Free Herculanium by Alex G. Paman

literally sprawled across Darienne’s lap, almost swimming in her effort to open the door and get out. Lilian staggered out of the van and ran towards the hall. Darienne closed the door and sat quietly in her chair. She didn’t want to get in the way, so she decided to sit in place and wait for things to calm down. Micky will tell her all about it later, anyway. This was as close to history as she could get without getting trampled.
    Three silhouettes swung their arms forward and pointed their industrial flashlights directly into Clay’s and Micky’s faces.
    “Let us through,” demanded Clay. “We’re with KMNL News.”
    “My name is Michelle Suarez, and this is my camera man, Clayton Smith.” She pulled out two press badges and handed it to the lead officer. “We’re just here to get a statement from Preston Jones.”
    “Sorry, folks, but they don’t want anyone going in. You guys are going to have to turn around and leave.”
    “Off the record, guys,” said Micky with professional tone, “if you let us in, I can get you a lot of cool free shit from the station. I’ll even get you a personal station tour. What do you say?”
    The three guards looked at each other, smiling and considering the offer.
    “There are already people in there ahead of us. I’m not going to say shit to anybody that you let us in. And if they ask you, all you have to say is that we got in before your barricades went up.”
    The guards stepped aside and gave them a free path to the front entrance. Clay shook the hand of the lead guard as they proceeded forward. He could tell Micky had given this speech before, with little variation.
    “Leave your card with me when I leave,” said Micky over her shoulder with a wave. “I’ll hook you up. Thanks, fellas.”
    Lilian reached the three guards a few seconds later, out of breath and soaked. She inadvertently strayed into the path of a rogue sprinkler.
    “Let me through,” she demanded. “I’m with those two. I’m that woman’s agent. I have an invitation.”
    “Sure you do, grandma,” smirked the same lead guard. The three stood unmoving in their spots, a wall blocking all access to the event.
    Lilian screeched and gritted her teeth in frustration, almost lunging at the men with her long nails before catching herself.
    “Ma’am, you’re wet,” said one guard with sympathy. “Would you like a towel? It’s freezing out here.”
    “Well of course I’d like a towel, you idiot. You think I like staying out here like a popsicle? Surely even your minimum wage salary job can see that.”
    The guards looked at each other in disbelief. They all quickly pointed towards the exit simultaneously. “The towel’s over there,” they said in unison.
    Lilian screamed and stomped back towards the news van, throwing her soaked hat onto the glittering lawn. The three men broke out in laughter.
     
    The limousine passed the crowd slowly, almost in a defensive posture. Preston and Max felt their eyes staring the car down, with fans breaking into screams and cheers every few feet. Flash pulses filled the air like distant lightning, exploding before quickly dissipating away. The crowd was small for now, but it was sure to grow in the coming minutes.
    Preston lowered his window a crack and peered outside. The veterans’ hall itself was elevated high above the road, accessible only by an ornate staircase that led to the tall front doors. A narrow red carpet snaked its way from this entrance to the curb, flanked by velvet rope. Security guards stood alongside the steps in a staggered pattern. Several men stood on top of the staircase, with one person seeming to dwarf the others in presence. He was dressed in an expensive, European–style suit, and seemed to command over the property.
    Even from their position at the bottom of the staircase, he could tell this man was smiling.
    “Alright, Pres,” said Max with urgency, “it’s show time. This isn’t anything different than what you’ve