A beacon. His steps echoed through the corridor as he hurried the last few metres. As he approached, the door almost noiselessly opened, the brilliant white light inside stinging his retinas, as it always did. Xander stepped, blinking, into his home and was sealed tightly inside. “Xander, you're home!” came an excited female voice. He stripped off his mask and rain-soaked jacket. The cupboard next to him opened of its own accord, accepted the offering and then closed to, as he kicked off his boots near the door. The warmth of his apartment on his cold, wet skin felt like a blessing. His whole body shivered pleasantly at its embrace. Simply stepping into the apartment had given him a warm, satisfied feeling. “Yes, baby, I'm home. I've been waiting for this all day,” he sighed, peeling off his shirt and discarding it in the laundry hamper that had suddenly sprung from the wall. “The streets are so empty still, it seems so alien to me.” “I know, but we know why, don't we? You have to be. I pulled his short sword from its scabbard and broke it under my foot. "Would you like to swallow this?" I asked the young lieutenant, poking him in the neck with the shattered end of his blade. He shook his head. "You tell me then." There are four men out there, waiting, and they'll be here shortly if we do not emerge." He said in a rather choked voice that bespoke good schools and reasonable breeding."Well, then," I said, watching Bob start to get his courage up out of the corner of my eye, "suppose you," and I turned and hit Bob squarely in the forehead with the rifle butt as he lunged at me. It made a terrible and fatal kind of sound, things cracked. He fell like a tree and his feet kicked a few times. Blood trickled from his ears. "Suppose you," I continued, with my forearms numb, "you go out on that little porch and tell your men to get on back to their barracks. Tell then that Bob and you are going to horse Tildy for a while now that you have taken care of that infernal.
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