IS
31

I was awakened naturally this time. There were no dreams of death or feelings of despair resulting from the insidious ways that had, over the past few days, swallowed me whole and incessantly spit me out. There were, for the first time since this all began, no dreams at all.

I was calmly awakened by the random and distant sound of a car horn. My eyes blinked open and the familiar, anxious feeling rushed into me; so warm, like warmth had finally found its home.

I could see through the window that night had not come yet, but was on its way. Another inspiring sunset was holding fast to its dying performance yet again. I sat up and looked around my room, feeling as though I had missed out on something; or just feeling that something was missed-–out of sorts.

A familiar stench of rotting fish and ammonia came presently. I turned to a dark hallway and called out to a lost friend.

“Powder?”

It remained silent.

“Please tell me you’re here,” I whispered. The light outside was burning only faintly by now.

“You have missed me, Joshua?” I heard my voice ask. He then moved through the doorway, his disgusting odor stronger than ever, and yet, welcomed with no regard to its revolting repercussions. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“You son of a bitch-–where the hell have you been?” I yelled.

“You show anger at me, Joshua,” he said, surprised. He moved closer and I was surprised myself to see a hint of what resembled human emotion on his face.

“Powder. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you looked worried.”

He reached up and touched his face, and then dropped his chin as if embarrassed. He went on to tell me something. “I was remembering what you said to me that night; when you said that I must have wanted to live. Well, I did want to live, Joshua. And I still do.” He then lifted his face to mine, and continued. “I also remember how upset you were that we had no time to construct a plan.” His face was a cold stare, now absent of any expression whatsoever, let alone his signature smile.

I started to feel bad for him. “Powder, I didn’t mean—”

“That is where I was, Joshua,” he interrupted.

“What… where? Where were you?”

“Our plan, Joshua. I was constructing our plan,” he smiled.

“I don’t understand.”

“Your daughter, Joshua. She is the answer.”

“What? No-–what are you talking about?”

“She has a power within her.”

“She sees things. She has visions!” I stated angrily.

“Her power goes far beyond her visions, Joshua. She is much stronger than you know. She is much stronger than she knows, but she is learning.”

“I still don’t understand. How could this be?” I asked.

“Joshua, you are now, and always have been my chosen. The essence of my being has always been around and within you, long before your offspring came into this world.” And then he paused for a moment. “Do you understand what I am telling you?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” I answered. He then looked to the floor and struggled for the right human words once again, before lifting his eyes to mine.

“Sometimes… usually… certain genetic qualities of our being are filtered into your human born, but only once, with one child. In this case, it is your little Alley.”

“No, no-–are you telling me that she has your power?” I asked.

“Much stronger. If she can learn to harness, and control it.”

“No, I don’t think I can believe that. That’s impossible!”

“Is it that you cannot believe it, or rather that you choose not to believe it?” he asked.

I had no reply.

“Surely, with everything you have been forced to accept this far, what I am telling you could not be so difficult to understand.”

“But she’s just a little girl. My little girl,” I said, as my eyes began to tear.

“I know you very well, Joshua. Therefore, I understand what you are feeling. But you must understand this; she is our only hope.”

“Wait, wait! You told me before that you and it possess the same power. That would mean that you and I could stand a chance against it–-yes?”

He moved to the window and looked out onto a dark street. “Joshua, you say that you are aware of Alley’s visions. Then you know also how they have frightened her.”

“Yes, of course I do. You know I do!” I replied.

“She is changing, Joshua… she has already changed from when you saw her last. Rather than just accepting the vision and the inhuman fear that it gives, there is a certain genetic quality in your human being that, when blessed with such a gift, one is able to push back-–fight the physical essence to which one is challenged. Your daughter has this gift. And she is learning it, learning to fight. We need that fight, Joshua.”

“But, what about you?” I asked.

“I fear that my power would not be strong enough to defeat him. I feel-–” and then he paused to correct himself. “—I know that I have become weaker. I can feel that I am becoming more like you, Joshua. And the more like you I become, the more my power goes away from me.”

“But—”

“She is growing stronger while I am growing weaker,” he stated, cutting me off. “Why is this so difficult for you to accept?” he angrily shouted, turning from the window to face me.

Just for a moment, I could not only hear the anger in his voice, but I could see it in his face, as well. And then it quickly faded away, and was silent.

“Maybe if you took that anger with you into battle, we could defeat it for sure,” I said.

He then lowered his head in shame once more. “I am sorry, Joshua,” he said.

“I know you are, my friend,” I answered.

He lifted his head and smiled at hearing his new title.

“And I am sorry also, when I tell you that I cannot do that to my daughter.”

His smile went away.

“You and I will have to do this on our own,” I stated.

“I do not agree with your wishes, but I will respect them, my friend.”

Suddenly, there was a knocking sound coming from the back door. My eyes grew big and I looked at Powder.

“Relax, Joshua, I do not believe he would announce himself before killing us.” There was a series of knocks again.

“Maybe it’s a trick?” I asked.

“Maybe he has put the fear in you so that there is no question,” he replied. “Go! I will just-–hang.”

I raised my eyebrows at his last remark, and left him standing there. I turned from the hallway and into the kitchen with caution. I saw Scott pacing nervously on my deck, looking as though he was ready to come out of his own skin.

When he saw me approach the door he looked surprised and relieved, all wrapped into one frantic emotion.

The deck was dark, just as the rest of my house. I opened the door.

“Shit, Josh, I was freaking out!” he rushed in, pumped with anxious fear. “I saw the gun on the deck, and then the bloody knife in the shirt, and I…”

I slid the door open a little further, disrupting his thought, and switched on a light.

“What the fuck is that?” he asked, gazing, astonished at the dried mural that had been painted there. He had the gun I left behind in his hand, while another, more larger one was tucked behind his belt.

“I found it there this morning,” I replied. I chose not to tell him that I had been on the deck when it happened; that the evil entity had mysteriously crept past me to leave his grotesque artwork while I slept.

“What does it mean?” he asked, as he reached forward, almost touching it.

“How the hell should I know? It can’t be good!” I answered.

He handed the gun back to me. “You can’t go leaving a gun on your deck, for Christ’s sake. What if somebody found it?”

“I know, I know–-I was delusional!”

“This whole fucking thing is delusional!” he yelled.

“Scott!” I yelled back. It fell silent for a moment.

He tilted his head back, drew in a good long breath and pushed it out. He then dropped his head forward and looked at me. “Sorry man, I’m just freaking out a little,” he apologized. “What’s with the bloody knife?”

“It’s mine. I lost it the other day and it showed up buried in my door frame next to that,” as I pointed to the obscure drawing on the glass.

“Who’s blood?” he asked, as he quickly scanned my body for injury.

“I don’t have any idea. Right now I’m really hoping the answer is what, rather than who.”

“Okay then, what do we do now?” he asked, anxiously awaiting some sort of plan.

“Not we, Scott. Only me.”

“What are you talking about? I can’t let you go into this alone!”

I slowly placed the gun down on the table next to the door and then looked him in the eyes. “Scott, I love you like a brother.”

“I know, but—”

“Let me finish!” I angrily interceded. I took a deep breath of my own, and blew it out with puffed cheeks. He obeyed my order. “I need you to do something for me. I need you to take your family away from here for a couple of days.”

“What?”

“Let me finish… please!”

He stopped talking, but looked away, frustrated. I could see his face scrunch with disgust. I knew he could smell something. I moved to divert his attention.

“It’s almost the weekend again. You can take Dianne and the kids up to the lake. It’s a good three hours away.”

“Can I speak now, Captain?” he asked.

I nodded.

“You can’t do this on your own, and I wouldn’t be much of a brother, or even a friend, if I went and let that happen.”

“Yeah? And just what kind of friend would I be if I let something happen to you when this really wasn’t your fight to begin with?”

Again, quiet fell between us. He looked to the floor as if it had answers for him there.

“Scott, look at me.” Again, he obeyed my request.

“Two days… I’ll be okay, and this will be over–-for good!”

“You have a plan?”

“I have a plan,” I answered. This time I had no choice but to lie. I had to. But deep inside, I was hoping to rectify that lie by actually coming up with an idea to put this whole nightmare behind me; behind us! This roller coaster ride of good versus evil was taking its toll on everyone who was now involved, and someone would have to put an end to it; that would be me and Powder. Like a deranged Batman and Robin.

“I’ll think about it. I can’t make any promises, just yet,” he said. “What’s your plan?”

“It’s a work in progress, but I have high expectations!” There, I had already resolved the lie.

“You keep that gun close by, Amigo. And I’ll check on you later.” He was all ready to leave when he turned to me and asked, “What in the hell is that sick smell?”

A chill came over me, when my imagination was again put to the test. “Bad fish,” I answered.

“Bad fish meets Mr. Clean, more like it!” he said.

“Yeah well, I tried to drown out the stink with some stuff. It’s that bad?”

“Fucking disgusting” he replied. “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.” And he was gone.

For someone who didn’t like to lie, I felt I had done pretty well. I was almost proud of myself. I watched Scott move past the back window to my right.

I turned around and was taken back yet again by his disturbing presence. Amidst the dark quiet of the kitchen, he stood there with the Stanton’s patio light making only half his face present to me. The other half shadowed in mysterious recourse.

“Powder?” He made no move, he made no sound, and I felt the spot between my shoulder blades tingle with a fear that it may not actually be him.

“Joshua.”

I felt myself breathe again, until he continued with his actions.

His cold stare was back. He moved toward me, and then past me, to the door, not acknowledging my physical presence. I thought he might knock me over in his quest to get to the blood mural. He was quiet and still again. That is, until he finally spoke. “This is very bad, Joshua.”

“What does it mean?” I asked, though I’d never been more afraid to hear an answer in my entire life.

“He has made his message.”

“To me.”

“To your race,” he said. “This is a calling to your world, to tell it what his plans are for you, what he plans to do to you. This figure resembling a man is you.”

“I kinda figured that,” I said.

“These three symbols over you are very important in his message. This symbol to the left tells of your ending; he has confirmed your last breath. This symbol over your head states just when he plans to finish his mission, to finally complete his purpose.”

“When?” I asked.

“With the passing of another moon.”

I must have looked uncertain.

“Tomorrow, Joshua!” he confirmed.

“And what about that one?” I asked, pointing to the last remaining symbol.

He was hesitant to give that answer. He actually turned away. The symbol appeared more jagged and wicked looking than the others.

“Powder, what does that symbol mean?” I commanded, as my body began to shake.

He still would not look my way, but obeyed my request for an answer. “It is yet another promise to your world, Joshua.”

I didn’t ask. I just stared in his direction, waiting for him to finish.

He soon felt the anticipation of my gaze and finally turned my way, looking as though he had already lost his new friend, and said, “He has vowed to not only end your existence… but the lives of your offspring as well.”

“Why? All this because I know about your kind?” I screamed.

“To begin with, yes.”

“To begin with?” I asked.

“It has become-–” He became confused, searching for the right word. “Person-– person-–”

“Personal?” I blurted out.

“Yes!”

“But why?” I asked, desperate for answers.

“You have disgraced him, Joshua. He should have been done with you, many times over. Even though he must extinguish me first, in his thoughts I am not what is important. I am merely an obstacle in front of you.” And then he looked down at the mural again and said, “I fear that he may soon go against our law to complete his purpose.”

“He would do that? He would defy your law?” I asked.

“I see that you have moved past acknowledging him as It,” he stated, as a smile tried to form, but soon went away.

I was without a response.

“Perhaps the name you gave him before was correct. Perhaps I should refer to him as the same.”

“What are you trying to say, Powder?”

“As I tried to make you aware before, its purpose is all it knows, Joshua; the only true reason for its existence. And you need only two human words to describe its existence.”

“And those words are?” I asked.

“Evil. And pain,” he answered. “It not only gives pain, but feels it too. Although, it is unable to react to it the way you would, so it continues to feed the evil that he or it is.”

“But, you made clear to me in the beginning that your species doesn’t feel human emotion,” I said.

“Joshua, there is nothing human in what it feels, or reacts to. I have only put a human name to it so that you may understand!”

“I saw it cry!” I blurted out.

“What?”

“The other night – when it knew it couldn’t kill me. It became so enraged that I saw tears run down its face. Call me crazy, but I would say it was reacting to its pain pretty good!”

“That is impossible. You must be mistaken, Joshua,” he said. He looked to the blood mural again, lightly touched the symbols, and then looked out into the field beyond. He looked bewildered.

“What are you thinking, Powder?” I asked.

He turned to me, and I could read a look of question on his face; almost fear.

“Joshua, what if it is not only I who is changing, but all of my kind? What if the existence of my race is evolving?”

“Evolving into what?” I asked.

“I do not know; something different than what we are, or what we have been.”

We were both quiet for a short time, when I moved to change the subject. I noticed he was still taken with the grotesque display of art in front of him. “Where do you suppose the blood came from?” I asked, nonchalantly, not expecting the answer I would soon receive.

“I would guess, from someone, or something that you care for. That you hold dear to you.”

“What? Are you serious? How can you say that so calmly?” I yelled. “And you’re just telling me this now?”

“I am sorry Joshua. But you have just now asked me.”

I walked forward a few steps and kicked over a chair in anger. “Dammit!” I screamed.

Powder just stood there, not knowing how to respond to the fury that had suddenly consumed me without warning. I looked back at his blank stare. “You don’t get it, do you?” I yelled, still heated, anticipating the wrath of morbid and painful discovery that surely awaited me.

He only tilted his head slightly, not sure of what I was asking him.

I was scared and furious. “You’re telling me that it killed something I loved, right?”

He nodded once, slowly.

“This is pain, Powder! I’m hurt and angry!” I screamed again. I dropped to my knees and fell forward onto my hands. “Dammit,” I yelled again, loud and strong, pounding a fist into the floor.

“Yes–damn–it,” I heard my voice yell again. I looked up, panting with exhaustion, and saw him grab hold of my wife’s antique crystal bowl from the bakers rack. He lifted it high in the air.

“Wait, wait!” I yelled.

He stopped and looked at me. “I wish to show anger too, Joshua,” he confessed. His hands came down, bringing the bowl down with them, exploding onto the ceramic kitchen tile.

I dropped my head, surrendering to the reality of what had just happened. A few seconds later, I looked up to see him staring at the hundreds of translucent pieces, scattered across my kitchen floor. He then turned to me and smiled.

But I wasn’t smiling. I was engulfed with remorse. Not from what had happened to Corey’s crystal, but rather from the unknowing, and then ultimately, the fear of knowing. I stood up and walked to the window that overlooked my neighbor’s back yards, all in a neatly trimmed row. My imagination was beginning to get the best of me, and I feared what was the truth; the unimaginable that I was twisted enough to imagine. The only one I knew I could rule out was Scott and most likely his family. And then again, I was assuming blindly that the blood was that of someone, not something. But it had to be a person. I knew in my heart that that would be the most devastating; just as I was sure it knew that as well. “I must leave now, Joshua,” I heard myself say. I turned around and saw him presenting the bowl to me, somehow whole again.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

“I am not completely without power, Joshua” he said. “But I am still unable to see him, or it, at far distances. Therefore, he is not near, and I must go.”

“And you can’t see who, or what it sacrificed?” I asked.

“I am sorry, Joshua. I cannot.”

“I still have a lot of questions, Powder. Things I still don’t know about you. You keep disappearing on me.”

“In time Joshua, but this is not it. I must go now. Remember, you have this night, but the night that follows will be his final judgment upon you. If I feel later that it is safe, I will return so that we may construct your plan.”

“It’ll be your plan too. I need your help!” I said.

“I have made my plan, Joshua–-and you have made it clear to me that it cannot be done,” he stated, almost vindictively.

“Powder, even if you’re right about Alley, I can’t put my little girl in harm’s way. You understand that, right?”

“I understand that I have done what I feel is necessary to overcome the evil that comes for you and I. I said that I would respect your wishes, my friend, not that I understand, or agree with them.”

“You seriously can’t see why I can’t put my little girl into battle against that monster?” I yelled.

“There are things you cannot see as well, Joshua. Only a part of what you remember is your little girl now. The other, the part you have yet to encounter, has the possibility of being a great warrior with little boundaries.”

“We’re talking about Alley. My Alley. The same little girl who would rather die than be in the same room with a spider?”

“I am wasting my time here, Joshua. I must go now.”

“And you’ll be back?” I asked.

“I will try,” he said, as he moved out onto the deck, and disappeared into the secretive spaces of yet another night.

Having him leave now left me empty and cold; a feeling that rivaled the loss of a favorite pet. I then began to wonder and worry what other loss I would eventually discover, and just how much more the intensity of the pain would have to be.

I glanced to my mantle and rediscovered my lost family again. I picked up the phone and finally made my call. I was comforted to hear my children’s voices, and hear their joys, as well as the chance to console their pain. After all, I was their father; a title I at one time had almost forgotten. Alley was quiet. She wasn’t the same excited little girl whose voice ached for her father. Not now. Her fear was somehow subdued. She seemed confident, but more distant as well.

All the while I talked to her, Powder’s words kept running through my head… maybe he was right. But she was still my Alley; my little girl, no matter what. Shane hadn’t much to say either. And I felt sad. I felt I had missed a window to be there for them, that they had gone on without me, and that it was fine; no big deal.

And then there was Corey. She said more to me than both of them combined. She laughed, and she cried, proclaiming the mysteries and the pain of everything she had encountered without me. And I could hear in her voice that it had made her stronger. She had weathered a storm, and came out a victor.

It was during her conversation with me that my mind started to wander. I looked to the mural yet again, and wondered whose blood I was staring at, when she said something that yanked me back.

“So we’ll still be home tomorrow.”

My attention quickly shot over to our family portrait, and my ears began to ring. “What? Tomorrow?” I asked. The ringing increased to the point where it was nearly as loud as her voice.

“Yes, Josh. We’re still coming home tomorrow. Nothing’s changed.”

She had no idea just how wrong that statement was—coming home tomorrow-–of all days to come home. Panic devoured me. I tried to contain my fear just a bit longer.

“That’s great, hon. What time’s your flight?” I asked, cool, and composed.

I heard nothing I cared to hear, until, “…so our flight should arrive approximately 5:15.”

“Tomorrow night” I said.

“Of course tomorrow night, silly!” she said, then laughed at my ignorance.

I began to laugh right along with her. Only she soon stopped, while I kept right on laughing, increasing in depth and volume, with no apparent end in sight.

“Honey! Honey!” she finally screamed for a second time.

My emotions hit the brakes and I stopped, realizing that I had just made a complete ass of myself.

“Are you okay? Because you’re seriously scaring the hell out of me right now.”

“I-I’m okay. Just a little tired,” I said.

“Whatever. So try to be there by no later than 5, okay?”

I tried to focus on where I was supposed to be. I knew I couldn’t ask! “Yup,” I replied.

She then went on to give me more specific information, but my attention was drawn to something, or rather, someone walking through the field. I watched through the window, through the open spaces between the blinds. I could just make out the figure of a large man moving slowly.

“So, you got all that, hon?” I heard Corey ask.

“Sure do,” I replied, having no idea about anything she had just said.

“Okay, I love you and can’t wait to see you tomorrow. We have a lot to talk about, Joshua. About Alley!”

“I understand. Love you too. Bye.” My attention on matters outside made me miss putting the phone into the base. I finally had to force myself to actually look at what I was doing. I felt inconvenienced by such a menial task. I then moved out onto the deck for a better view.

It was Dave Gust. But what was he doing this side of the street – and in the school yard? “Dave!” I yelled.

He glanced my way and responded. “Hey Josh!” he called back.

I stepped off the deck and went to join him. It wasn’t until I got close enough to see his face that I could tell he was troubled by something. “What’s going on, Mr. Dave?” I asked, as I was now within ten feet and could sense his distress.

It was with the next words he spoke that I felt my heart hurt inside my chest. “Hey Josh, have you seen Hercules?”

I was speechless, and for the moment found it difficult to think of anything but the dog’s big, dumb face. I again had to contain my emotions. “No, actually, I haven’t seen him for a couple of days now.” I was dying inside.

“Nobody’s seen him all day. The crazy thing is we thought that maybe he got out again last night.”

“Oh, yeah?” I stupidly replied. I could feel my eyes start to water and my nose burn with the agony of finally knowing.

He turned and looked at me. I hoped the dark was dark enough to hide my pain.

“I don’t get it Josh… the gate was still latched. And he’s never jumped the fence. Christ, I don’t think his big ass could get over it anyway.” He turned his attention away from me, and cleared his throat. I knew he was holding back some pain of his own. “Oh well, I’m sure he’ll show up eventually,” he said. He didn’t sound too convinced. And then he turned to me again.

“I’m heading home. If you happen to see him, would you give me a shout?” he asked.

I swallowed hard. “Sure will, buddy.” I finally answered. I wanted to finish with a comforting little speech; something like, “Don’t worry, Dave, I’m sure he’ll show up hungry with his tail between his legs, knowing he’s going to be punished.” But as I have stated several times before, I don’t like to lie.

After he left, I just stood there on weak knees, and cried. How could it do something so terrible to such a beautiful and innocent soul? I pulled up the bottom of my shirt and wiped my face dry. Sadness turned to rage. I looked up and out into the dark field, focusing my attention to where I hoped it could see me. My eyes watered again, but this time with the intensity of fury that made me hate him to the point of wanting to end him right there. My ears were burning and I felt my anger building; increasingly growing. I knew I would have to release with a scream at any moment-–and then I heard a distant sound coming from somewhere in the darkness ahead of me.

I took control of my rage for the moment, focusing on the sound, desperately trying to identify it. I dragged a hand across my nose and wiped my eyes again. I heard barking. And as I listened intently to it becoming louder, seemingly becoming closer, I began to realize that maybe I was wrong. It definitely sounded like Hercules.

I started to feel a sense of relief as I began to move in that direction, quietly calling his name. The thought of actually showing up at Steve’s door step with his lost canine companion at my side made me feel happy.

“Hercules!” I called. “Come here boy! Come to Josh!” It grew quiet again. I moved into and around the large trees that surrounded me. Just for a second, I glanced back to the security of my home, and to the distance I had traveled away from it. I was incredibly uncomfortable, knowing I had once again become vulnerable.

Different scenarios were starting to play out in my head. Like, what if Powder was wrong about the message? And, what if it was using Hercules to lure me all the way out here? I started to make a turn to leave when I heard a whimpering sound. It seemed close, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it was coming from.

“Hercules?” I whispered with one final effort, and then I felt something hit my chest. I was startled, and had no light as I tried to focus on the ground around my feet. It was when I bent forward that I could feel the weight of it still there, stuck to me. I reached up with my right hand and peeled it away.

By the time I realized what it was, It stepped out from behind one of the trees, smiling, and whimpering. Most likely it was the last sound it heard from Hercules, before his innocent life expired for good.

I tossed the slimy object away, then stumbled backward and fell. I quickly climbed to my feet and started to run. I was soon reminded of my injuries all over again, as the whimpering morphed into barking, and then as I got closer to my yard, I heard a loud and drawn out howl!

As I passed over the berm, frantic for my life, I stumbled and fell clumsily and painfully to the ground. I lay there, panting and wincing in agony. There was nothing left but quiet.

All at once I heard the sound of a katydid in the tree overhead, and questioned its true identity. Pain and anguish could not hold me there any longer. I stood and ran for the door wall on the deck; sliding it open and then slamming it shut behind me. Exhausted and out of breath, I fell against it while my hands clamped onto the curtain, eventually pulling it from its rod. Ultimately, I slid to the floor.

I recalled my thoughts as I sat there, thinking about the slimy object that It had presented to me with such gruesome gesture. I felt as though I would be sick… it was a tongue. It was a dog’s tongue. The very same that had licked my face so many times before with his friendly canine act of love and acceptance. I vomited, and I wept. I could stand no more… It would have to die.

Unlike her father, Alley did dream on this night. She saw herself mighty and victorious, wielding a large sword to opposing creatures in battle, and with heroic confidence and stealth. She envisioned herself triumphant with every fight, and eventually being crowned for her masterful skill and service to the human race.

As she lay there in her dark room, a smile came over her young, innocent face. She had dreamt that she had become a great warrior. And for the first time in a very long time, she felt no fear; only the calming reverence of what she had become… a legend in her own time. But there would be no Kings or Queens, or even ceremonies rewarding her achievements in battle, and there would certainly be no crown.

For this was, in the most equivocal state of a child’s mind, a dream after all. But let us not put to rest the basis by which dreams are conjured in the human mind, and put to test the foundation of human spirit.

Some dreams do in fact come true… and tomorrow, Alley Stone would be coming home.

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