[Hiarhu]: 631.Dominion (Pt 1)

Brittany Sims waited patiently, her mind entranced by the sound of torrential rains on the roof was dwelling on past storms of a different nature. Brittany was the evening clerk at the Home Town Supply. The new night clerk Marcus was late, of course. Home Town Supply was one of the few convenience stores that managed to avoid trouble in her gang controlled town.
The owner, Emmanuel Richardson, was a nice man in his mid-fifties that everybody couldn’t help but like. His store was in the heart of Corta territory, but he was never held up, vandalized, or in any way assaulted. This was due to the fact that Richardson’s only son, Jake had been a Corta, as were many kids his age. Jake had been sixteen, and in his second year as a member, while riding in a car with five other members they were spotted by the cops. They tried to run. But the driver, Nail, was too high and they never got a mile. The car had been doing about eighty when it hit the railing on the bridge and flew into open space. No one survived that night. Cortas had a supposed code, as did most gangs, the families of any member where untouchable. Emmanuel’s store was protected, for now, by his son’s death.
Brittany forced her mind form such thoughts, but they were merely redirected in a worse direction. At 19, Brittany had never been in a gang. She hated them, but that wasn’t why, after all, no gang gave a damn whether or not you wanted to be in one. No, she was free of tattoos and oaths because she was the youngest of three girls. When she was only ten, her twin sisters, Jane and Rebecca had joined the Cortas to be part of the cool crowd. Not three weeks later they where in the ground, victims of a random act of harassment by the Cortas rivals, the Black Clouds. Brittany snorted, what was with these names anyway? A bunch of losers that’s what they were, all of them.
A violent crash of thunder that shook the shelves was what it took to free her of her reflections. She glanced at the clock, 10:26 her shift had been over for almost a half hour.
“Damn it,” she muttered., “where the hell is Marcus? He’s only worked here a week and already he’s showing up late.”
“Calm yourself,” she scolded, “this is one hell of a storm, that’s probably why he’s late.” Emmanuel lived above the store and was the one who usually ran the store at night, but he was in the hospital after he hurt his knee on the stairs. So he hired Marcus until he could handle it himself. She stared out into the night, the rain was coming down harder than usual. Here it rained often, but lightly and storms where never more than around twenty minutes. Brittany doubted whether or not anyone would battle this to get a jug of milk tonight. As she stared, a pair of twin orbs of light appeared around the edge of the building and stopped in the lot. They dimmed and died. A flash of lighting showed Marcus running through the rain towards the door. His old high school jacket was pulled over his head. The bell clanged as he stepped through and she saw he was soaked.
“Damn has anybody called Noah?” Were the first words out of his mouth.
“What’s the matter is it raining?”
“Smart ass”, he laughed.
“I know. Incurable”.
He laughed again. Marcus was one of those people who could laugh at anything and make you find the humor in even the most depressing of situations. It was either you laughed with him or you wanted to beat him senseless with a garden hose, no middle ground. So Brittany laughed, and sighed her relief.
Brittany was a worrier by nature, and she couldn’t deny she had worried about him on these streets. But she didn’t like to worry, and wasn’t very happy with anyone who made her.
“Your late” she snapped as he hung his jacket up on the rack by the door to the security lounge.
“Sorry I couldn’t decide to drive or swim,” he smirked. “I mean, come on, have you looked outside tonight?” He gestured out at the lot where the rain was coming down so hard it seemed to be trying to flood the very air.
“Not that I can remember.” Brittany answered. “It’s like a bad horror movie or something.”
As the words left her a tremendous crash of thunder marked the destruction of a power transformer somewhere, plunging everything in sight into total blackness.
“Nice” remarked Marcus and you could hear the smirk on his voice, “remind me to never get on your bad side ok?”
“What are you yapping about now?” Brittany was impatient. She was feeling around under the counter for the emergency flash light but was having no luck.
“This is your fault for saying that you know.”
“Saying what?” She finally found the light but the damn batteries where dead, typical. She started rummaging around for the pack of spares Emmanuel kept nearby.
“Bad horror movie” Marcus quoted, “that always happens, tonight’s a night to watch the clichés Babe.”
“Call me that again and I’ll drown you in my vomit. And by the way, anyone ever tell you you’re weird?”
“Oh, the odd garden gnome now and then, why?”
Brittany found the batteries and popped them in, and shone the bright light in his eyes. “Well come on weirdo, we’ve got work to do.” 
“Isn’t your shift over at ten?”
“Thank you for reminding me why I was mad at you in the first place.”

She was being a bit mean true but she wasn’t really mad at him anymore this was just how she behaved around people she felt comfortable with. More than a few had accused Brittany Sims of being a shade weird herself. As she thought this she wondered why she felt so comfortable around Marcus, after all, she had only known him a week. As usual she was answered by the slightly mocking voice in the back of her head. You know why. Shut up. She commanded and was rewarded with the sound of her own giggle echoing through her head.
She had been down this road before and had no interest in walking it again. Her mother was a good hard working woman but she needed help raising the new girls in town. Brittany’s Aunt and Uncle had been run off the road two months ago by a drunk that turned out to be the sheriffs son. Their daughters Beth and Sara had been six and eight at the time. Now Mrs. Sims had taken it upon herself to see to the children. Brittany was a writer by passion, and a clerk by trade. It was the only way she could help her mother until she got back to work. She had taken off to help the girls cope. Brittany knew that now was not the time for a relationship of any kind.
Unfortunately it seemed that Marcus knew the effect he had on her, and worse, that she really did want a relationship she just had to figure out how.
“What work are you talking about the powers out and…” He trailed off. Brittany who had started towards the security room hesitated.
“What is it?”
“Shine that light here, would you?” She obliged and Marcus locked the door.

“Why make it easy on the little bastards?” He said in response to her quizzical expression.
Catching on Brittany responded, “I doubt we need to worry they don’t touch Emmanuel’s store.”
“Yeah I heard, but still.”
“Fine”, she was getting impatient again, “now come on”
She had a little trouble opening the door to the security room. It was a heavy metal slab that was used to protect employees. If there was ever an attack then they could just hop in and wait it out. Sort of like a panic room. Inside it was small, nothing more than a little hallway that was being filled up too fast. At the other end lay two more doors, one leading to the steps to Emmanuel’s little flat, the other, heavy like the first, to the dumpster in the ally. In-between sat a long desk on it were a telephone with an underground line that couldn’t be cut from the outside, a dusty computer that Brittany wasn’t even sure had ever run. And a system of four VCRs that recorded the security footage. On a shelf above sat a small worn TV that allowed the clerks to monitor suspicious customers.
Brittany reached into one of the desk drawers and pulled out another flash light. This one was at full power and she handed it to Marcus.
“I figure we’re going to do something, but I’m at a loss here.”
Brittany shot him an annoyed look that would have stopped a cobra in mid strike. Marcus however didn’t even notice. She sighed, well she thought you ought to know him by now.
“Look the powers out and we need to do some thing about it.”
“Like?”
“Like go downstairs and turn on the generator.” She was dripping sarcasm.
“Oh, right, fine lets go then.” He was looking a bit edgy so Brittany asked. “What’s with you anyway?”
“I’m major creeped out, something’s not right about tonight, don’t you feel it?”
In truth Brittany was not having the time of her life either but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
“What are you a wuss, it’s a storm, they happen, get over it, yesh!”
“I’m not scared,” Marcus felt the need to explain even though he figured it wouldn’t do any good. “It’s just that I have this feeling about…” His voice trailed off again. Then, “Okay fine lets get that generator on, we’ll probably be needing it to call the Navy.”
He stepped in front of her in a determined manner and strode purposely towards the wrong end of the room. Brittany watched him pass with a smirk on her face, she let him get half way to the other side of the store before. “Hey Sherlock!” Marcus turned and, grinning, Brittany shone her light on the door to the basement. His face was bright red, even in the dark, as he retuned.
“Honest mistake.”
“There’s only one door.”
“Oh, come on.” He strode of in the right direction now muttering under his breath.

Brittany smiled again and followed, You’d think that this would be simple wouldn’t you?
Sadly, simple isn’t the word you’d use to describe what would happen to them next.

Less than two miles away form the Home Town Supply store a predator stalked his prey.
The prey was a young prostitute fourteen maybe fifteen no more. She wore short pink latex pants that seemed to cover slightly less than the basics. A top that was designed to show cleavage but the poor girl had none to show. She huddled under the edge of a building trying to escape the rain but not having much luck. She was, naturally, a runaway, a drugy, she had no family here no one to miss her. It was almost certain that these thoughts were going through her head right now. She had journeyed here from four states over trying to escape a small town existence. The man she had thought she loved had sold her for a few ounces of coke and a six-pack. Now she catered to the sick desires of sick men. She had no idea that a much more perverse client was considering striking up a barging.
The so called predator was 26 a skinhead youth that was nothing special but thought himself the world. He wore dirty jeans and a faux leather jacket. He was a coward. He had no life to speak of and was a runaway as well though in his case his town very well may have rejoiced at the sight of his back. He was a sociopath if that. He thought he was angry and filled with a need for justice so he got his fix from violence. He liked to beat and rape women that he knew where defenseless. Now he set his sights on the young girl he saw before him.
He was to stupid to plan anything really so his victims where chosen at random wherever he found them. Tonight he had been out trying to score a little dope for the rest of the night when he had seen her. She had been on the other side of the street trying, halfheartedly, to entice a customer. This was before the rain but not before the signs of its coming. The far off rumblings in the sky put her clientele off.
Businessmen getting off the nine to five and having a drink in town before heading home where the most common john. But the threat of rain would always drive lust from their minds. Their wives were smarter than them, and they would know what was going on if they stayed out in the storm.
Still the rain would not be a satisfactory excuse to abandon her post and as she had already been broken once, she felt no need to repeat the experience in a hurry.
She tried to tempt a customer as he left the bar for his car but the rain had him so distracted he didn’t even see her. She countered this by yelling obscenities at his retreating back. The girl went back to her brooding huddle as the skinhead watched her.
The skinhead was so full of himself it never occurred to him not to take her but merely when and how. Of course he was to much of an idiot to do any thing other than grab her when her back was turned and drag her into the ally behind the bar. The poor fool was so cocky that it never occurred to him that he might ever be hunted himself. 


Across the street and on the roof of what had once been a dilapidated hotel but was now an even more dilapidated crack house a real predator watched. This man appeared most peculiar, he was white if a little pale, black hair, so black that it would almost have to be dyed but wasn’t and tall maybe six four. A black cloak of sorts a seeming cross between a trench coat and a very fashionable bulletproof vest. He wore dark glasses. Expensive frames and lenses as dark as obsidian glass. Despite the fact that the storm made normal people almost blind and running for cover this strange man seemed unaffected. He stood atop the roof edge strait backed defiant of natures fury. Though he himself should have been blind he watched the goings on below him as a hawk watches the mice in its meadow. He saw every detail even the ones that the most observant person would have been oblivious to.
This man was a hunter. He had been traveling as he always was, he had not put down roots in many years. He had always wandered. On his journeys this man had learned many things one of which was how to walk unseen among others. He had made use of this gift today and it was unlikely you could find anyone who would remember him. He could pass unseen through a crowded room even though he should have been visible for miles around. Today he was hunting his only prey these meager days, humans.
Across the street the skinhead saw his opportunity and took it. He darted out from the shadows. He may have been a failure in every thing else but he was fast. He was on the girl before she could ever react. He had tried to hit her at full speed but the rain had made him slip, he skidded and caught her in the chest, they both went down hard.
She was stunned, in this neighborhood attacks happened and she should have been ready to defend herself but she was young and broken. After all, if she had tried to fight off her pimp he would have killed her and found a replacement. She was weaponless as her profession’s uniform wasn’t designed to conceal, period.
The skinhead reacted first, he rose up and delivered a hard punch to the side of her head. Her yelp of pain pleased him and he hit her again. This time in the face he just missed breaking her nose but the force of his blow knocked her head into the side walk. The combined blows rendered her almost unconscious. This suited the skinhead’s plans fine for now, as he picked her limp form off the sodden ground, he smiled.
Atop the roof the newcomer smiled as well. Show time.


Brittany followed Marcus to the basement door and thorough it. They climbed the steps down into the dark little room. They could hear the rain very clearly down here but Brittany couldn’t figure out why. Marcus coughed as they where assaulted by the smell of mold.
“Geez, what is that stink?”
“Mold.”
“Mold? Doesn’t anybody ever clean down here?”
She shot him a contemptuous look that was wasted in the dark.
“Of course we clean and often, we store food down here after all. I don’t know why it smells like that, it never has before.”
But as they descended the source of the offending odor became apparent.
“Shit” was all Marcus said.
“What?”
“Look.” he shone his light at the floor. There was about half a foot of water everywhere. Instantly Brittany understood that she was not hearing the rain but the sound of a torrential leak. She flashed her own light around and found it. There was a small waterfall coming through the ceiling. She figured it must be coming from the gutter outback, it must be raining to fast to drain it all off. “Shit” she agreed. Then once more with more feeling. “Look! Damn!” “What! What is it?!” Marcus sounded nervous. “There.” She pointed. The water was failing right on the generator. It was an old model, enough power to keep the freezers running but not much else. And it certainly wasn’t water proof. It’d never start now.
“Well what now, Oh fearless leader?”
“I don’t know so stop asking me.” She paused then made a decision. “Let’s head back upstairs and wait it out. There’s nothing else we can do.”
They traipsed back up the steps shutting the door behind them. Brittany moved back to the security room and dug up an emergency battery lantern. She turned it on and set it on the counter. Next she pulled two metal folding chairs out and set them up. Marcus stood by and watched. It may have seemed like he was being lazy and inconsiderate but this was not the case. He would have been happy to do that but he knew from the short time they had know each other that Brittany was fiercely independent. She was at her happiest working alone and would only be insulted by an offer of help with something she obviously didn’t need help with.
But Marcus was not an inconsiderate person, as he settled into his chair to listen to the storm he grabbed a couple of sodas and a bag of chips. He set a few bills by the cash register as it wouldn’t open without power and he didn’t want to forget to pay. Brittany returned yet again from the security room carrying a crank powered radio. She charged it up but the storm caused so much interference that she soon gave up trying for a signal.
She saw the sodas and chips and opened her mouth to object. Marcus headed her off with a gesture to the money on the counter. Brittany closed her mouth, shrugged and took the drink that was offered to her. They sat that way for a while, eating in silence when without warning a crash sounded from the behind the closed door of the security room. They both jumped. “What the Hell?” yelped Marcus. Brittany shushed him. “Don’t shush me!” he hissed indignantly standing up and facing the door. Brittany stood on his foot momentarily.
They listened intently for a moment before they heard the sound of the storm coming from the security room. Marcus said, “The wind must have blown the door open.” Brittany rolled her eyes. “The wind blew open a fifty pound security door did it?” “Well it’s pretty darn windy tonight.” “Next you’ll be saying leprechauns unlocked the dead bolts.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” He sounded insulted. “Leprechauns wouldn’t do that in this weather.” Now he sounded serious. “Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?” Brittany asked. Marcus winced slightly “Jack. It must be rubbing off on me.” Jack was Marcus’s best friend and a tad strange.
Brittany grabbed her flash light and moved toward the door. Marcus’s arm held her back, “Wait.” “Why?” He looked at her for a moment then shook his head and moved in front of her.
Brittany let him go on for a moment before she remembered. The Spray! Emmanuel had always kept a can of Mace taped under the counter for years. She felt around until she found it, but it seemed much too large. Instead of the small pocket size that was usually there Brittany found a can about the size of an average spray paint can. She brought it out and looked at the label next to the lantern. A small smile came across her lips. Apparently Emmanuel had read somewhere that an economy sized can of bear deterrent was more effective than ordinary Mace. Emmanuel was a very nice man but he took this store very seriously.
Marcus had noticed her pause and had turned to watch. She waved the can and stepped in front of him again. “Let me have that, I should go ahead anyway.” “Why?” Marcus fidgeted a little then he said, “Well I’m a… and you’re a… er.” Brittany stared for a moment then raised the bear spray to his face. “If your trying to say what I think your trying to say you’re about to regret it.” Her tone was almost casual but Marcus wavered anyway.
He stepped aside and allowed her to pass. She gave him an over sweet smile patted his head and said, “Good boy.” Brittany was nervous suddenly, she had just realized the fact that she was about to lead the way into an unknown and possibly dangerous situation. For a brief instant she regretted her decision to go first but she was loath to show that to Marcus. So head held high and every outward sign one of utmost confidence, she grabbed the door handle and in one smooth motion through it open. Her flashlight beam danced around searching for the yellow eyed, green toothed scumbag that Brittany was half expecting.
The room was empty. The outer door hung open, so did the locked door the Emmanuel’s flat. A trail of water connected the two.
As Brittany realized what this meant the storm abruptly died. So abruptly that it was unnerving, one second it was poring to high heaven, wind wiping in great gusts. The next, the air was still, the last rain drops fell leaving an eerie silence in their wake. Marcus looked out at the now peaceful alleyway, “Hmm, guess someone forgot to pay the bill.”
Then he noticed the water leading to the stairs. He stiffened, on edge in an instant. “You still want to lead?” His voice still sounded calm and casual but inside he was freaked. The situation did definitely call for some nervousness but he had a feeling that this was worse than it looked, much worse. 


The skinhead dragged his catch into a filthy back ally. There were brick buildings on either side making up the walls. Overflowing trash cans where scattered about, their stink usually so apparent was washed away by the storm tonight. The ground was littered with the normal trash of people and the trash that human garbage itself left behind. One of the buildings had a door leading to the alley and above it a very dirty flickering bulb provide what you could call light.
This suited the skinhead fine. He moved her onto a pile of bags filled with waste that were just at the outside of the light. She groaned a bit as she was unceremoniously dumped, but she was still out of it. Her captor looked at her, and was pleased. He touched her hair and saw blood on his hand before the rain washed it clean. The sight of her blood was to much for his violent spirit. Where he had been calm and as calculating as his limited brain would allow, he now gave in to his perverse desires. His mind became clouded with lust, his will reduced to that of a mere rutting animal. But this creatures sexual pleasures came not from simple copulation, but fear, pain, and dominance. He needed control. He also needed a victim who could feel fear, and pain, and, his personal favorite, beg. He kicked her in the gut, not very hard, just to try and rouse her. When she did not respond he kicked her again, and again. Each kick with just a little more ferocity.
The girl cried out in pain and awoke. She looked up uncomprehending at the ugly man she saw above her. Then her stunned brain ground back into gear as she registered where she was, the pain she felt and worst of all the evil gleam in the man’s eyes. She had heard stories about men with that look from other prostitutes on the job. She had even seen that look in men on the street before though fortunately they were never looking at her.
But this time it was for her. She gathered her voice and made to scream. She had only made the first hint of a sound before the man, anticipating what she was about to do, clamped a hand over her mouth. “Hush now bitch, that’s not the noise I want.” Keeping his hand over her mouth he began to tear at her shirt. The pathetic excuse for clothing gave way easily and her breasts were exposed.
The skinhead stared hungrily for a moment at her chest. The poor girl was so young she had barely noticeable bumps. This exited the man even more, he liked to break innocence. And although this girl was far from innocent her youth made it easier to imagine she was. He wasn’t a patient man and he had lost all control now. He began to fumble one handed at his own pants.
Before he even had his belt undone something seized him from behind and he was hurled backwards through the air. He struck the wall hard and slid down it landing atop a few standing trash cans. They gave way as he hit and with a tremendous crash that was lost in a boom of thunder, scattered in all directions. He was momentarily stunned when he saw out of the corner of his eye a black shape come at him again. Before he could react he was struck a terrible blow and skidded across the ground, casting a wake of filth as he went. He waited for the next blow, but it didn’t come. He tried to move but the pain in his side left him winded and going nowhere for a little while.
The girl was still laying on the bags, she was to scared to move though she new she should run. She watched everything through eyes blurred by tears and rain. She was sure that any moment she was about to be hurt, maybe even killed. Then out of the shadows a man emerged. Not her captor but someone new. This man was tall and in the diminished light of the storm tossed night he seemed to be insubstantial, as if he was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Some hallucination brought on by an overload of stress on her system. The apparition drew nearer and she saw that it was indeed a real man his invisibility due to the fact that he wore all black even black glasses. For a brief moment the sight of a real person terrified her, she had lived in fear to long and had long since abandoned trust. She saw this new man not as a savior but as some new torturer.
But as the man drew nearer still she looked into his face and suddenly she felt no fear. It was not within her to understand why but, even though she had never seen his face before she knew that she could trust him. Indeed she felt as if she had trusted him her entire life. The man reached her and she saw that he was carrying the jacket the other one had worn, the one who had grabbed her. He knelt down and, even though she could not see his eyes at all she knew he was looking into hers. No that wasn’t right he was more than looking into her eyes he was looking into her soul it felt like. She noticed what must have been a trick of the light and weather, the man was there in the storm plain as day but the was not wet the rain seemed to just miss him.
Before she could contemplate this, he smiled, it was a warm gentile smile one filled with kindness and caring, the kind of smile she had not been graced with in a long time. “Here.” he said as he draped the leather jacket around her shoulders, covering up her breasts. She was momentarily surprised, she had forgotten that she was now half naked. She was surprised also at his voice, it was normal but not quite normal, but it perfectly matched his smile. She tried to speak, to say something, anything, but even if she had found her voice she would not know what to say. This strange man seemed to have wiped her mind blissfully blank. He smiled again, understanding. Her reaction was obviously nothing new to him.
“It’s okay now, you don’t need to worry, your safe.” She believed him. “What’s your name?” At once her voice returned and she stammered the answer. “M-M-Megan”. The smile returned to his face. “Well Megan I know you’ve been through a lot tonight, but I need you to listen to me okay? Can you try and do that?” Megan nodded. “Good, now I’m a good guy Megan I’m here to help, is that okay?” She nodded again. Is that okay?! Really, he may have just saved her life, did he expect her to complain? “Are you happy here?” She was taught to say she was, to prevent her from being helped away, but she could not lie to this man. She looked down for the first time breaking away from his gaze. She shook her head and hot tears of shame ran down her cheeks, how strange that she would think them hot in this icy downpour.
Megan felt his hand under her chin, gently guiding her gaze upward. She obeyed its pressure unhesitatingly. As he looked into his face once more he smiled and she found comfort in his smile. “I though not. I felt your pain Megan.” At these words she was once more over come with shame, shame at the life she lived. Though this time she did not break her gaze, she felt more comfortable knowing he was watching her. “No. Don’t be ashamed.” Her shock at this words must have registered on her face because her gave a small laugh of amusement. “This is not a life of joy or peace or of safety. Why do you lead it?”
Megan was speechless for a moment, but next she was telling her story. She told how she had been a young happy teen back home. She had nothing to worry about except homework and whether or not the cute boy who lived next to her best friend liked her. She had had a family that loved her and she knew they loved her, and Oh how she loved and missed them. Her voice broke here and the man waited patently for her to continue.
When she had regained her composure she told of how she had met Him, as she though of him now. His name was Brian he was nineteen and had moved in with some friends of his down on her street. When she met him on the sidewalk one day she had been instantly infatuated. She thought he was the world, because he spoke with a voice that seemed to be coming from someone who had seen the world. He had been kind, even sweet. But the closer she drew to him the farther away she was pulled form her family.
Eventually they ran away, or rather he moved on and she followed. It was then when they where traveling that she saw him for what he truly was, a drugy loser. But unfortunately she had convinced herself that she loved him and needed him, so when he offered her drugs she took them. He was never really abusive, just a loser. Her voice failed once more as she told how she had been sold.
“And then Dante…he…he.” She could not go on. She looked at the ground once more and sobbed. Next she felt his had on her shoulder and heard him say, “Shh, that’s enough. Was Dante your pimp?” She nodded again. Then her head shot up terror filled her eyes, “Dante Oh God, no! I’m late, he’ll kill me!” She gave freedom to a mournful moan. “Hush. Didn’t I say you don’t have to worry any more?” “But…but I have to get back. Now!” She moved to rise to her feet but the man held her back. “Listen Megan please.” She cut him off. “No! Dante wi…” “Never mind Dante. You don’t have to fear him anymore, your safe.” His words calmed her, and she stopped struggling.
“Listen I don’t lie if I can help it. I said your safe and safe you are, understand?” Megan simply stared. Who was this man? He smiled again, “You said you miss you family, why don’t you go home? “I-I-I can’t Da…” He cut her short once more, “Enough fear. It doesn’t suit you at all. Your too strong at heart to be afraid of a coward like Dante.” Megan puzzled over his words and did not respond. Her mind was in overload, her brain was not mature enough to comprehend what was happening. “Megan I’m here to help you remember?” She nodded. “Good. Now, you want to go home to the family that loves, and needs you, so just say the word and that’s what will be.” Megan was silent for a moment, her conditioning to strong. Then, in a soft childlike voice, “Okay.” The man stood up, “Cool.”
He reached inside of his cloak to an inner chest pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He flicked it open one handed and pressed just one button. Out of nowhere a black Town Car sped up to the alley, jumped the curb, and came to a stop. The driver side door opened and out leaped a tall black man. This man was dressed in all black as well but it seemed to be of a more business fashion. The man hurried forward, he seemed almost jovial. He was practically skipping as he opened an umbrella and raised it over Megan’s head.
The first man held out his hand to her and she took it, rising to her feet with a querying glance at the newcomer. The black man raised the umbrella to keep her dry and smiled at her savior, “Evening, Boss.” He had a crisp voice with just a hint of an accent that Megan had trouble placing until she remembered an old sitcom her mother had watched. She couldn’t remember the name but it had been set in Britain. Yes! That was it, the man’s accent was British.
His boss nodded in return but did not respond. His gaze retuned to her. “Megan, this is Leroy, he’s a friend, he’ll help you get home.” Megan shifted her attention to Leroy. He smiled a smile that was far to cheery for the night and said, “Evening, Miss. And call me Mickey would you? Every one does but Mr. Formality here.” He gave a small chuckle and inhaled some rain through his nose. He coughed and sputtered. The cloaked figure took the umbrella and Mickey stepped of to gather his composure.
Taking advantage of the situation her new friend spoke, “Listen, Megan, Leroy will take you to a nearby hotel, there you will receive medical attention, some actual clothing and, hopefully a good nights sleep.” He paused to smile once more, it was obvious that he understood the uplifting effect his smile had on her. “Tomorrow he will take you to a bus stop, and get you a ticket home. I’m sorry that he can’t take you all the way but he is needed here. Do not worry, you will not be alone. I will have a friend nearby but you will not recognize them. They will see you safely to your destination.”
Mickey retuned looking slightly sheepish. “Sorry ‘bout that, happens all the time with me.” He took the umbrella back and said to Megan, “Well, Miss, shall we be off?” Megan was still staring at the man who had saved her she was trying to say something as a way of thanks but all that came out was, “Who?”
“I’m a friend, and your wet. We don’t want you getting sick on top of every thing now do we?” Megan felt Mickey’s hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the car. She allowed her self to be lead off.
When she was safely strapped into the back seat Mickey returned to his boss’s side. “So?” The cloaked man gave him a quizzical look. “So?” repeated Mickey. Then, “Is she one of th…” The man cut him off with a shake of his head. “What? You mean she’s just a…a…girl?” Nod. “But then why man? If she’s jus…” “Just a girl who needed help.” Pause. “I’m sure you understand, Leroy.” Mickey paused then, “Of course. I just wondered if it was wise that’s all. And call me Mickey man you know that” “What else would you have me do Leroy?” Mickey suddenly looked very sheepish now and was obviously regretting saying anything. “Yeah. Right. That’s why you’re the boss.” He cleared his throat importantly, “Well then sir I’ll be off. Will you…er…finish up here then?” Another nod. “Right. Well good day Boss.” He turned to go when, “Leroy.” He looked back, “Yeah, Boss.” “She’s been through a lot tonight try not to talk her to death, how about it?” Mickey smiled, “Aww, Boss now you know me.”
“That’s why I mentioned it.” Mickey let lose a giant laugh tossed his head back and quickly resumed his sputtering.
Shaking his head in amusement the strange new man in town turned and strode purposefully towards the shadows in which he had left the stunned skinhead. 



The skinhead still lay atop the rubbish that he had been beaten down to. He was battered, some of his ribs where cracked for sure, but that wasn’t what had held him in place. He was nailed to the pavement not by any infirmity but by fear. Pure, cold, unreasoning fear. He did not know the reason for this bout of terror but he knew it’s source. The man. The strange man who had been the one to pull him off the girl. His girl. He felt such rage and loathing that he was driven to a desire for violence so strong that if he did not find a release soon he was liable to attack himself. But still he sat curled up into a fetal position until he heard the man speaking to the girl.
His voice! His voice made him sit up so fast he thought he might have finished the job already started on his ribs. The man’s voice sounded normal but it held some quality that he could not place. It was a sound that filled you with an impression of thinly veiled power. Though the man was not speaking to him or even about him he felt terrified and began to shake in his spot.
He watched everything that happened in the alleyway. And he also heard what was said though he tried to block out that terrible voice. When it was done and the girl, Megan, had been driven off by that freak, the man turned and came towards him. He almost lost it then. At any other time he would have been thrown into a bloody frenzy but today his only thought at the moment was keeping his pants clean.
The man stepped into the dark and looked down on him from on high. The skinhead was overcome with the urge to meet this threat face to face and turned his gaze upward. At the sight of his tormentor’s face he tasted bile. “W-Who are y-you?” The man looked down, disgust glowing from somewhere deep within his face. He was silent for a moment then, “Trust me, you really don’t want to know.” With that his hand shot out and grabbed the skinhead’s throat. The man was incredibly strong, with one hand he lifted his captive to his face until they where nose to nose. In a growling voice of forced calm he demanded, “You, what is your name?” Fear coursed through his body and as the skinhead answered he finally lost his battle for his pants. “R-R-R-Rick.” His voice was just a pathetic squeak now. The tall man smiled, his smile was cold, mocking, “Rick… I thank you Rick I prefer to know.” Without another word he closed his hand slowly. Rick felt his throat collapse his eyes burned as though they were trying to burst forth from his skull. The muscles in is throat tore, blood vessels falling in on themselves. Since the blood couldn’t go down his gullet it gurgled out of his mouth and over his chin. The next thing he heard was the word, “Bastard.” Just that one word spoken almost conversationally but filled with such hate that even Rick’s sick mind could not fathom it. He never heard his neck being snapped, never felt his brain stem wrenched from its place. That’s the only thing the man with the obsidian eyes would regret.
As the young man died the storm died with him. The still air carried a quiver on it that the cloaked man registered. A quiver that he had not felt in years and had hoped to never feel again. For the first time in a very long time he felt the beginnings of the once all to common feeling of fear. Turning away from his finished work he strode purposefully to the end of the alley. He produced his phone as he went and dialed the number he had hopped to never again need.



They stared in silence at the ominous sight before them for almost a minute. Finally Marcus took charge, “Give me the spray.” Brittany opened her mouth, every intention of arguing but he headed her off. “Listen, don’t even think about arguing on this one, give me the can, go get your cell, the storms over it might work, call the police. I’ll take care of this.”
Brittany stared open mouthed at him then, “Look I can handle mys-.” “I know that but, I am not going to let you this time understand?” “No.” He sighed, “Look this is bad okay and I think I should go first.” He was actually looking nervous saying this so Brittany cottoning on said, “That’s sweet Marcus,” she paused to look sweet herself then, “But I don’t think so buddy, so move your ass.” “No.” “You need to work on your tough guy Marcus.” She kicked him in the knee. “Ow. Hey what the hell is wrong wi-.” He stopped short because the heard a sound from above them. It was a low creaking sound as if something very heavy was walking around where it shouldn’t. Next second a great crash came from the same area as the creaking, it sounded as though someone had swept an arm full of pots and pans off the kitchen counter. Then more sounds of movement followed by silence.
They listened intently but when no more sounds came they looked at each other once more. “Still want to go first mighty man?” “Yes.” Brittany rolled her eyes, for the life of her she could not understand why they were both taking this clearly serious situation like some dumb game. Jesus, we’re acting like a couple of drunk kids. She gave her head a little shake then said, “Your right about one thing we should call the police, you go get my cell and…” “Un-Uh. That cell’s in your bag and no man in his right mind would go through a women’s bag.” They continued in this manner for a few minutes when a new sound brought them back to reality. It wasn’t more crashing but a high piercing scream that Brittany didn’t think any living creature could make. Such was the level of terror and pain. “Shit” Marcus ran forward he raced up the steps so fast that Brittany was still wondering what the hell was going on when: “OH SHIT!!” Marcus came back down the stairs so fast she didn’t think he’d touched a one. “Move!” He grabbed her arm and spun her around and tried to drag her out of the security room back into the store.
“Hey! Let g-”
“No! Move! Move!! MOVE!!!” His voice shot up a few octaves with every “move”. he was gripping her arm so tightly I hurt and it was making her mad, but luckily she knew fear when she saw it and knowing that Marcus didn’t scare easily, despite his manner, she went along as he led her to the store.
Marcus was royally freaked, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds stumbling forward dragging Brittany along for the ride. He was so preoccupied with whatever had him moving that he walked right into one of the lawn chairs that they had left out. His foot tangled and he panicked trying to get free. He trashed and threw Brittany of balance sending her crashing to the floor. A moment later he joined her and in the process struck his head on the hard counter, lights flashed behind his eyes before they all went out. 

Brittany lay on the floor stunned, but only for an instant. She was shocked, and a little scared but true to her nature she was also pissed. She started to sit up when she stopped suddenly. She listened, she hadn’t heard a sound, more of felt that there had been one. Still straining her ears for, for what that was the problem. What the hell was going on tonight? Looking around she noticed several things. First that the lantern had been knocked over as well, one bulb was broken and the other was casting a pale light marred buy shadow. In the gaps of light caused by the fallen chair she saw one of Marcus’s legs but nothing else of him.
Now worried she sat up and crawled to him. In the darkness she found him unresponsive, she grabbed the light and brought it to her to better see his face. Brittany started when she saw red. Shit. Just above his right eye Marcus was bleeding. She figured he must have hit his head on something. Brittany knew no first aid beyond applying a Band-Aid but she didn’t think it was that bad, movies at least had taught her that head wounds bleed. Glancing around for her bag to call someone she heard the sound again. This time she knew it was there but beyond that she was at a loss. She froze. It was then that reality came back to her, she supposed she must have hit her head to because she had forgotten what was going on, not that she even knew.
The problem was that she had forgotten that Marcus had been running as if his life depended on it, had been so freaked he had knocked himself out. Brittany now was a little worried about herself, it was in her mind likely Marcus had been running from a bat or something. But still. Fixing her eyes on the black doorway from which they had run she moved the light. Its fragmented glow caught something. Just for an instant Brittany saw a flash, like when you were driving and found a deer in your headlights. The deer’s eyes shone bright yellow, only this shine was a pale orange. The light was too feeble to touch any other part of the room or to reveal the owner or the eye. Brittany guessed it to be about three feet off the ground and as if the thing was crouched just as she was now. Brittany’s mind was in overdrive racing like a car stuck in the mud. The wheels moving but getting no where in one hell of a hurry.
Brittany tried and failed to comprehend what she was seeing. In this situation a normal person would do one of two things, they would either panic or they would deny what was right in front of them. Humans are well practiced in ignoring the reality of their worlds and so Brittany chose that road. Deciding that the light was not an eye but in fact some combination of her over exited imagination and some normal reflection, she tried to return to helping Marcus. He moaned as she tried to wake him again and seemed to becoming around. His eyes opened and fluttered but were glazed. Brittany wanted to focus on Marcus, to ignore the strange light in the security room but her eyes began to move upwards on their own as if someone else was guiding them. Soon they were once again staring into the eye that couldn’t be an eye when it vanished. Brittany was breathing deep for her sigh of relief when it reappeared, then quicker than before flickered and returned. Realization hit her like a slap in the face, It blinked. Now faced with the truth Brittany reconsidered her options, and screamed.
Brittany prided herself on her independence and strong image, she was not a screamer but now she let lose a wail to chill a banshees blood. She didn’t jump up and try to run she didn’t react at all. She merely sat and screamed. Of course a full hearted scream of terror is an excellent alarm clock and Marcus sat bolt upright and stared at her.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Brittany was still shrieking, one long high unbroken note and chose not to multi task by answering him. Marcus stared at her then he seemed to remember the night also because he stared to at the blank wall of dark inside the room. His own eyes wide he found the eye, then it shifted to the side a second appeared and looked right at him. With the synchronicity of seasoned performers Brittany became silent while Marcus took up the call. To his credit he was screaming only a little higher than she had.
Then the owner of the eyes made it’s self known. Out from the shadows it came, not the dark beast that that the two clerks were expecting and not the harmless stray that you probably were. No, out came a girl. But she was somehow wrong, she was paler than the white linoleum beneath her and with such an emancipation to her that you might guess that she had some how been drained of almost all of her substance and left with only the physical. Her limbs were long and seemed incapable supporting her, perhaps that was why she crawled. She was dressed in designer clothing and looked drenched. While in the safety of the shadows she had held their gaze she now avoided it, glancing around the room as if she was a young child about to sneak into her mothers room uninvited.
She crawled strait at Marcus, who’s yell died in his throat, he seemed to surprised or to scared to make any sound now. Brittany was certainly confused herself but no longer scared. She couldn’t understand why they had run from this girl who most likely needed help. The visitor reached Marcus and raised her face to his, her nose almost touching his. She looked intently into his eyes for a moment then sneered with disgust or maybe disappointment. It was the first time she had shown any emotion. The girl shook her head almost sadly, when Brittany reached out with a tentative hand whispering,
“H-Hello? Are you okay?” the newcomer reacted instantly, she left Marcus and was in Brittany’s face before she could react. Brittany now received the same scrutiny, but rather than displeasure she saw puzzlement looking back. This poor wretch was looking at something in her that she seemed confused by. Then she brightened, the smile did not make her look more normal on the contrary she now gave off the air of one who is very dim. One skeletal hand reached up and stroked Brittany’s long hair brushing it back behind her ear.
“Pretty.” she said in a vague way.
“T-Thanks I-”
“Pretty never lasts.” she said this in a conspiratorial whisper, and may have been speaking from experience.
A tear slowly slid down her cheek.
Then without warning she grabbed Brittany’s throat and the other hand once again found the lock of hair this time with rage rather than tenderness.
“Pretty always dies!”
This creature squeezed Brittany’s neck with a strength that was completely surprising.
“Hey!” Marcus jumped up and grabbed the thing around the waist and tried to pull it off Brittany but it was to strong. It merely released it’s hand full of hair and swung a fist into his stomach. With a grunt he fell back against the wall, winded. It turned it’s attention once again to Brittany and let lose a shriek of rage so high pitched it was inhuman.
The creature would have certainly killed it’s captive but it must have sensed something because it’s head darted up and gazed at the front entrance like a prey animal that has scented danger. Next second the door was launched off it’s frame by a powerful blow from the outside. Two lights entered. The lights were very bright, casting beams that shrouded whoever was carrying them. The first through the door flashed around the opposite end of the store. The second found the girl thing, it seemed to glow in the startling light then in one motion shot to it’s feet and ran out through the security room.
“Damn!” someone shouted, a woman.
The second light lowered to the ground and without the glare the outline of a person could be seen. She started to chase the thing, but stopped just before another voice called, “No!” this one a man’s.
Brittany lay choking leaning against the counter her thoughts not on anything other than that she was free of that thing. Marcus was still against the wall and had regained his own breathe. He started to stand up when the woman moved to him and shone her light in his face. She held it in a two handed grip and they saw that it was not a light but a gun. A flashlight attached to the end, both the gun and it’s user looked like they meant business.
“Don’t move.” She spoke slowly with the air of one who was accustomed to giving orders at gunpoint. Brittany stared, now this is getting ridiculous, she thought had she fallen asleep and was this a some weird dream? Next second she was once more blinded by a bright light and knew she had a gun of her own to deal with. “You heard her.” said the mans voice. Brittany really didn’t want to move she just wanted to wake up now.  Anytime now would be good… Without warning she felt a small prick on her arm and saw the women’s silhouette touch Marcus with something on his own arm. Guess not. The woman backed up a few paces and looked at whatever was in her hand, Brittany guessed the man was doing the same. “Clean” announced the woman, lowering her gun a fraction of an inch. 
“Clean…but…” the man sounded vaguely surprised. “What?” asked the women well she more demanded it actually. He seemed to toss something to the women who caught it deftly. They never let their guns waver, whoever these two were they obviously did this kind of thing often. She looked at it for a moment then produced something else Brittany couldn’t see. A small beep later she heard her say, “I think we might have a situation here sir.” Pause. “Yes sir, a Kreta. Yes sir. No sir, but an unidentifiable trace in one of the witnesses, Yes sir. Understood.” She returned her phone to a pocket, “They want a look.” She switched off the light on her gun and put it in a holster attached to her side. By the light of the mans own gun Brittany caught a glimpse of a second gun on her other side. Guns didn’t worry her one bit, around here everybody had at least one gun, and one of those crazy guys on Hamilton had a small arsenal. His wife had a considerably larger one herself. But guns pointed at her were a slightly different matter. Fortunately the man followed the woman’s lead and holstered his own weapon. Brittany guessed that the woman was in charge, Brittany being Brittany was a little satisfied to see a woman in charge….even if she did seem to be crazy.
The man knelt down beside her, her eyes were slowly adjusting back to the dark and she saw he seemed kind of young couldn’t be much older than herself. “Are you alright miss?” he seemed much nicer now. Rather than check on Marcus’s condition even though he was now bleeding again the woman walked away and made another phone call, this time Brittany couldn’t hear a word. “Uh…yeah I’m…yeah I..wha…? Brittany stopped and suppressed an involuntary shudder at how weak she must sound. Well she’d have none of that! Taking a deep breath she returned herself to normal by demanding, “What the fuck is going on here?” The man gave a small huff of amusement and turned to Marcus and checked him. Finding Marcus ok and quickly returning to normal himself he stood up and flashed a badge of some sort. “We’re FBI, I’m agent David Langley, and that’s special agent Olivia Carter.” “Right” Brittany didn’t believe a word but decided now wasn’t the time to argue.
“And to answer your question, you have just been the victim of an assault by a drug addict.” “Drug addict?” “Yes miss we’re working to track a new drug that is being distributed in this area, the girl you just saw had fled from a bust nearby and we tracked her here.” “Huh?” “That girl was a heavy addict, and is basically insane.” “What about that thing you stuck me with?” Brittany was doing her best to sound angry about this and it was working but the man calling himself Langley didn’t seem to notice, which of course pissed her off more.
“Nothing to worry about miss,” he held up a small device a bit like a Palm Pilot, “Unfortunately the distributors of this drug are being quite forceful in recruiting new customers. They’re offering free hits if some of the stronger addicts inject street people and such with a chemical derived from the drug that creates an instant addiction but has no other affects, this tests your blood to see if you’ve been injected expedient treatment can reverse the addiction in most cases with little trouble.” It sounded like a likely story to Brittany and she wasn’t sure whether or not to believe it. She was about to ask some more questions when the woman called Carter returned. “We noticed some odd trace in your blood and we need to take you to a nearby clinic to see if you have been injected with something and we can get your friend some treatment for his wounds.”
“No look I need to get home and I can take Marcus to the hospital on the way, the store can close for one night.” Carter blinked at her and Langley opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off. “Miss I understand your position but this drug is a very serious matter if we have to we can arrest you on obstruction charges and take you in for the test by force.” Langley held his mouth open for a moment then closed it with a shrug, “She’s right you know. It would be easier to just come with us. “Oh I don’t think so. How do I know you really are who you say you are and either way you cant just force us to do something we have rights you know!” Brittany was just starting to build momentum when Carter barked, “Oh for Christ’s sake!” she shot her arm out and touched Brittany’s arm again this time instead of a sharp prick she felt a slight tingle heard a buzz and then she was out.



He got to the end of the alley and the last number to press when he stopped. No. No not yet. He vowed never to call and he was going to stick to that. He’d solve this himself as always. First things first, if what he felt was correct and that ungodly bitch was still alive then he had to find her but not her just yet. If she was back she had to have a reason and it was unlikely she was working alone. Find the others and he’d find a road to her.
Returning his phone to his coat he stepped of the curb and move quickly to what he believed was a likely spot. He’d sensed something odd earlier but had needed to stop the attack on the girl first, plus it didn’t seem like anything that looked to be interesting but now…who knew? As always with this man he was a bit better than most. When he moved quickly he move damn fast. He was standing where he wanted to be in just a few moments. Now this strange man was standing on yet another roof top. Looking across where large blue letters proclaimed this the Home Town Supply. The air was cool and clean here, and he breathed deep while he watched the goings on. People were moving around the store and it looked like most of them had just arrived because several black SUVs were parked side by side. He sighed, what was it with these guys and black SUVs? You’d think they thought people wouldn’t see them if they had tinted windows or something
The apparent new comers were moving around in the store and in an alley at the side. They were using handheld devices that even from his position were recognizable to him. They were after all made to electronically mimic his own sense of what all the creepy crawlys left behind. Based on the model it looked like he was second in line. He gave a small chuckle guess he didn’t need to notify them after all. But this presented a problem, he specialized in people even if he didn’t like most of them very much. He could tell there had been witnesses to whatever had happened, he could feel their confusion and some fear, but he couldn’t get to them to find out what they saw without drawing unnecessary attention to himself.
While he could just walk in there without being spotted he couldn’t talk to anybody with out being made. Witnesses weren’t always reliable of course but he knew how to deal with most people, it get good information out of a witness you needed them to trust you to want to help you. You had to be gentile and subtle….or. You could just tazer them and drag them you your car and drive them wherever you chose. This wasn’t his favorite method and he only knew of two people who would make this their first option. And since one of them worked for him and was out of the country, it probably meant that the other, less pleasant one was here. He deduced this because he was now watching some grunts load two unconscious forms into the back of one of the SUVs. He gave another small chuckle, some things never changed
He looked around once more. Whatever he needed to find it looked like his best place to start looking would be that alley. He stepped off the roof and calmly walked over to the alley, he could say he wore the black to conceal himself at night and that the felt too conspicuous without it. While this was partially true, the rest of it was that he felt like an idiot in anything else. He didn’t know why. But there was no denying it was useful at times like this, he circled around the back of the alley and began his search.
It didn’t talk long. The stench was noticeable, not an actual smell more of a spore left behind by the thing. No question, it was a Kreta. A look of annoyance crossed his face briefly. These things where like roaches to him and he would deal accordingly. Stepping past one of the techs who was running his scanner up and down the wall, so intently that he may not even have noticed this man even without his gifts. He walked to an open door and stepped through. A glance to his right up a set of stairs and he sensed that the Kreta hadn’t been alone. He did not need to search further as he knew that these two had been alone…he also knew that his earlier suspicions were being proven right. Another old friend had been here tonight. He walked out back into the night, purposely knocking over a trash can just to make the tech jump. Back in the shadows he thought, if he could sense that someone was here, then they could most likely tell he was here too. And they would find him in time. The signs would be showing up all over soon, might as well tie up a few loose ends. Besides he had time, and a pimp to kill.


In a supposedly nondescript black SUV David Langley and Olivia Carter rode in silence. Carter driving, and David glancing at her every few minutes. It was clear he wanted to say something but he couldn’t seem to get the words out. Judging by the way that Carter sat it seemed she knew not only that he wanted to say something but what it was. Finally it seemed David had had enough, he opened his mouth but Carter cut him off with a sharp “Don’t”. “Damn it Carter do you ever do anything the easy way?” “Not if I can help it.”
“You do know that this is going to be a mountain of unnecessary paperwork right?”
“Most likely.” David made a noise of exasperation, “Not to mention that they might decide to sue the FBI over this when we let them go.” “Not our concern.” David looked like he very much wanted to argue but he merely contented himself with rolling his eyes and looking out the window.
“What’s our ETA?”, he asked instead. “Twelve minutes.”
Twelve minutes later they pulled into the lot of a brick building. The building didn’t look abandoned exactly but all the windows were blacked out. Carter killed the engine and the both stepped out at the same time. David looked up at the building appreciatively, “I know it’s odd but this place always gives me the creeps.” Carter raised an eyebrow at him. David sighed, “Don’t ask.” “I wasn’t planning on it.”
A second black SUV pulled into the spot next to theirs. Two men got out, both dressed in dress slacks and a shirt to match. The looked to Carter and David, “Grab em.” said Carter. The men nodded. The two agents moved towards a door a few feet away across the immaculate lot. They didn’t say anymore as they reached the door, which David opened for Carter. And which earned him another raised eyebrow. He rolled his eyes and followed her inside. They entered what looked like a dilapidated lobby. Crossing to a door to there left Carter touched a place on the door frame and a barely audible click ensued. She then swung open the door and moved inside purposefully, leaving David to catch the door before it swung shut.
Beyond the door was blackness, but both Carter and David knew the building well and walked down a flight of stairs without difficulty. As they reached yet another doorway Carter, unseen in the dark, waved her hand at the wall once. Immediately there was a soft beep and with a hiss the door as well as the wall holding it slid aside. Both agents were illuminated by brilliant bluish light. David blinked suddenly in the bright light even though he had been expecting it of course. Carter didn’t even seem to notice it. Behind what was naturally a hidden doorway, was not just a hidden room, but a hidden football field. As always David was impressed whenever he saw it. Bright blue-white lights lit the expanse from above, reflected in the jet black and highly polished floor. Scattered in what may have seemed a random way were clear glass cubicles, some small with one occupant at a desk much like a normal office building, others were large some very large with tables lining the wall. In some of the larger cubicles there were men and women in lab coats working in, surprisingly enough, what appeared to be labs, and in still others there were sections of chain ling fence holding a section of weapons to rival that of a small, or even a medium army.
All around this large room were people, some worked at stations, others ran about everywhere, and still others just stood around watching. Most were dressed casually, at least casually for whatever this place was. Men and women in business suits, normal daywear, and even a few young people who were dressed in gaudy gear that you might see at a rave.
David and Carter stepped into this room, David breathed in the purified air with a slight frown. He always found the odorless super sanitary atmosphere here to be too unnatural for his tastes. He followed Carter as she strode purposely towards the very center of the room, a medium cubicle and also the only opaque one. One the way a skinny girl who looked maybe seventeen or eighteen literally bounced on her feet, out of one of the cubes. She was dressed most odd, long black and white stripped leggings a bright blue halter top and to complete the ensemble her hair was dyed bubble gum pink and spiked in thick beams. “Hey David!” She said in a very cheery voice, “Wha…” David cut her off, “Later Midge, gotta see the boss man.” And he continued on his way, reaching the center cube with Carter. A white metal door rimed by a strip of blue light blocked them from entering, but Carter waved her hand again and it opened in the same sliding manner of the first one. She stepped through shadowed by David and came face to face with Henry Deacon Morrissey.
Morrissey was the Regency Director for Section 126. Deac as he preferred to be called was a tall athletic black man just entering his fifties, but looking much younger do to his rigorous exercise regimen. Though he could have had a promotion to the Agency’s Headquarters in New York years ago, Deac could never give up the freedom and relative field work of his current position. Though his office appeared to be one of the utmost professionalism Deac was by no means a buy the book boss, like most of the people in this Section, and a few others, he was comfortable with the people and let loose a bit from time to time.
“‘Liv, D,” he said by way of a greeting, demonstrating his dislike of formally in his need to give everyone some kind of nickname. “Deac” Said David with a nod, Carter simply nodded. Deac didn’t offer them a seat they’d worked together long enough to know that Deac expected you to be comfortable in his office, if you weren’t supposed to be he’d tell you to stand, it was that simple.
Looking down at some papers on his desk he said, “Ok so do you two…” he paused. “I mean, ‘Liv would you like to tell me about these two kids that are on thier way down to medical right now?” “Sir, as you can see from the preliminary report…” Deac gave a slight role of his eyes, it was well known that if it wasn’t flagged red he never read a prelim, and he had given up telling Carter not to call him sir. Carter sighed and continued, “Agent Langley and I responded to a report of a signal disturbance from UARV 04 in the area of…” David leaned back in his seat while Deac relaxed himself, though both of them were following her every word. They both tolerated Carter’s strict manner with reports, though it was never really necessary.
Carter worked her way quickly through the report of the incident at the Home Town Supply, and Deac asked for clarification. “I need to know more about this trace you found.” “Sir, we…we know nothing about it.” “Well that’s helpful.” David stepped in, “We’ve got Rickter running it through DStat now.” DStat was the Agency’s database that encompassed every known law enforcement database in the world, as well as some that the world didn’t know about “If there’s anything to find, he’ll find it.” Deac sighed. “If there’s one thing I don’t like it’s a loose end. Keep me informed.” “Yes, sir.” “Sure thing Deac.” Prelims were often simple with Deac, and with that, it was over.
Carter and David left Deac’s office.