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#1 Shades of Gray Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness- Sci-Fi Horror Suspense Serial

Page 6

by Kristie Lynn Higgins


  “We’ve all done bad things,” he said as he turned to her, and his expression saddened as he reflected on his own life.

  A red VX corvette with the license plate FromAshes drove by with a blonde woman at the wheel.

  “I feel like I should be searching for something.” Kat unzipped a backpack and removed the worn note, business card, and the music box, and then she said, “I know these are clues to my past, but how do they fit?”

  “Our Gracious Lord has a plan for you, Katharine. I know it and in due time, he’ll show it to you. You only need to be patient.”

  His words didn't help, and she said, “That’s all I seem to have, but even my patience is running out.”

  Preacher grinned and his blue-gray eyes and pearly white smile caught her attention again. His warm expression made her feel safe and gave her some hope; it gave her hope that her search would not be in vain.

  * * *

  Five months later...

  October 12...

  Tuesday...

  10:11 P.M...

  The day before Kat arrived at Topa’s estate...

  A car burned then exploded, sending fiery shrapnel in all directions. Bullet holes littered the buildings, and the citizens of Wayfaring Lane ran screaming for their lives as Kat returned from meeting an informant who never showed.

  An old bag lady holding a golf club ran up to her out of breath, “Kat, someone shot Preacher!”

  “What?! Where is he?!”

  The bag lady pointed with the golf club as tears streamed down her wrinkled face.

  Katharine's view...

  I take off running in that direction as anxiety presses against my chest. A million things run through my mind as I hurry toward the Kitchen, screaming, “Preacher! Preacher!!”

  I continue running till I spot Argus, and I notice he stands at the entrance of an alley and stares at the pavement. I run past him and find Preacher lying in a pool of blood. He's been shot several times in the chest. I freeze, paralyzed with dread and I stare in disbelief at his lifeless body.

  “No,” I whimper and take a step forward. “No.” I walk to Preacher and collapse at his side. I fear touching him and discovering the truth as my eyes burn with my cowardice and anguish. “He can’t be dead. He’s not dead.” I pick up his hand and his skin's cold to the touch.

  “Preacher,” I whisper, looking into his pale face. “Look at me.” He doesn't respond to me. “Don’t you die on me.” I squeeze his hand. “Don’t you leave me alone.” He still doesn't respond, so I turn to Argus and desperately order, “Hurry! Go get some help!”

  End Katharine's view...

  Argus didn't move or say anything. He knew he wasn't allowed to help, but he also knew it was too late.

  Katharine's view...

  I rub Preacher's cold hand as if to bring warmth back into it and tell him, “Don't worry. Help will be coming, hang in there. You have to. You can't leave me alone.” I lean to him, pleading, “I can't bear my life without you, so please... stay with me.” I lean back, looking at the man who had been there when I wake screaming in the middle of the night, the man who held my hand and stayed by my side for three days when I had been shot, and the man who didn't care that bio-mechas hunted me or that I'm the Pandora Project. He only cares about me.

  His eyes are closed, and he looks as if he's sleeping. I notice there's something missing about him, not something physical but spiritual. I know it's too late, and finally allow myself to believe he's gone as I scream, “Not you! Not you!!” I shake him and cry, “Noo!” I cradle his head in my arms and wail to the heavens. “Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me!”

  My heart aches, and my eyes swelter with a dry grief. Why can't I cry for him? Am I some thing like a bio-mecha? Am I not capable of expressing grief? I sit there for minutes, holding Preacher in my arms as his blood saturates my t-shirt, and then I rest my head on his and whisper, “Forgive me, I should have been here. You told me not to go to the meeting and that it might be a trap, but I didn’t listen. I had to go; I had to find that scrap.” I sniff. “I should have listened, but no... I had to find out if the man knew anything about my past, but he wasn’t there. No one was there.”

  I notice Argus’ shadow that's stretched down the alley. Is the Council behind this? Did they lure me away to kill Preacher? Is this another test? My sorrow turns to anger. Did the Council kill Preacher?

  I direct my rage at Argus and demand, “Who did this? Who shot him?”

  He doesn't answer me, and he stands there as the breeze whips his black trench coat as if he's a stoic knight standing guard at a drawbridge. I know he's no knight; knights are gallant and protect the weak. How could anyone protect if they only watch?

  I snap at him as if yelling at myself for not being there to save the man I love, “I know you saw; you’re always watching. Was it the Council? Did they have Preacher killed? Did they have him killed to get at me because I’m not passing their tests? Because I'm not passing something called the Gamma Phase?” I gently lay Preacher down, stand, grab Argus by his coat’s collar, and slam him against the alley wall. “You were here, weren’t you?!” I scream, wild with rage. “You were here and did nothing!” I beat my fist on his chest. “Isn’t that right? Tell me! Did you watch them kill him?”

  End Katharine's view...

  “Yes,” Argus answered as he looked down at her, taking her hits as a small part of his penitence. “My job is to watch.” His expression remained blank as he spoke, “I’m not to hinder or help. My job is to...”

  “Shut up! I hate you!” Kat dropped her fist, leaned her head on his chest, and whispered, “I hate you.”

  Her words stung him worse than her fists, and they were more vicious than any physical attack. The next thing that happened, surprised him; his eyes watered. Argus had never lost control of his emotions before. He had never lost them before today. Argus wanted to stroke her head and soothe her sorrow. This past year, he developed something his training should have prevented; he developed feelings for her. The Pandora Project was more than a job, it... No. Kat... Kat was... He let his thoughts drift away with the wind. He wanted so badly to console her as he gritted his teeth, fighting back tears, but it wasn't part of his job.

  Katharine's view...

  I deeply heave as sorrow and anguish drown me. “Tell me. Tell me who murdered Preacher. Was it the Council or the Factory?” He doesn't answer me and that makes me infuriated more with myself than with him. It's not Argus' job to protect Preacher; I should have been here. I should have listened to Preacher's advice, so I direct all my anger at Argus only because he's standing there.

  I yell, “For once in your life do something useful! Take a side... Take a stand!” I scream as I die inside, “Be more than an observer!” I look up into his watery blue eyes, looking... no pleading for comfort and whisper, “Kill me.” I strike his chest with my fist; it's the only thing I can think to do for no one will wrap their arms around me again. “Help me,” I beg as I hit him again. “Just do something!” I hide my face in his coat as my body trembles with sorrow and heartache; I know nothing will bring back Preacher and that I'm all alone.

  “Topa,” Argus whispers. “Topa ordered the Closing on Preacher. He has an estate on the outskirts of the Hellenistic Sector.”

  I sniff, pull myself back, and stare at him heartbroken; I slap Argus in the face, and he only looks at me as I say, “That’s for doing nothing and letting Preacher die.” My eyes still burn as I turn my back on him. “I don’t ever want to see you again. You’re my shadow no more, so don’t follow me.” I walk over to Preacher, take the Bible from his grasp, and head out of Wayfaring Lane.

  Chapter Eight

  From The Ashes

  Present time...

  October 13...

  Wednesday...

  9:47 A.M...

  Katharine's view...

  Topa’s office feels menacing and
reeks of corruption as the men in the photos stare at me. They seem to glare down at me as if I'm the monster in the room, but I ignore their silent accusations as my heart aches so much it makes me ill. Preacher gave me the strength to go on, and he made me feel like a person, not a project. Now I feel empty, alone, and part of some twisted experiment. Topa will pay for killing the only light in my life; I'll snuff out his flame as he had Preacher's life extinguished.

  My gun weighs heavy in my hand, and I don't know how much longer I can hold it up. Sorrow overwhelms me as I aim for Topa's forehead. I have to make the pain go away and this is the only way I can think of to make it stop hurting.

  End Katharine's view...

  Topa feared this was it for his own life till he noticed her hesitation, and he questioned, “Have you ever killed someone?”

  Katharine's view...

  I don't answer as I start to press my finger against the trigger. Topa’s death will be like the others; he will die just like the Un-Men. I'll squeeze the trigger, and the bullet will penetrate his forehead and enter his automaton brain. No... That's not right. Am I so naive? This killing will be different. Topa's flesh and not a bio-mecha, so I have to be honest with myself. I waver a bit. I'll be taking a life; it's the one thing I fought so hard not to do, but he killed Preacher. Doesn't that change things? Preacher was my friend, and I lov...

  I let the last word fade from my mind. I have no right to claim that type of relationship, not when I couldn't admit that simple word to Preacher. I pause in my thoughts as grief seizes me again, and I scream, “Nothing will bring Preacher back, so you have to die!”

  End Katharine's view...

  “It isn’t all that easy taking someone’s life,” Topa said as he reached down, opened a desk drawer, and saw his gun tucked inside. He only needed the opportunity to grab the weapon. “Can you do it?”

  “I will kill you! You murdered Preacher! You should die!” Kat’s arm shook as rage and grief shrieked at her to pull the trigger, but something held her back.

  Once he saw the hatred in her eyes, Topa became a little nervous, but then two of his men entered from the door behind her, and he regained his confidence and questioned, “Preacher? Oh... You mean the do-gooder causing me problems on Wayfaring Lane. You say he’s dead?”

  She yelled, “You know he’s dead! You ordered the Closing!”

  “Maybe I did.”

  Katharine's view...

  “I know you did!” The pain in my chest worsens as I can no longer withstand the sorrow wanting to consume me. My resolve to kill Topa vanishes as I wish with all my being that Preacher would wrap his arms around me and tell me everything will be all right. I know that will never happen, and my gun arm drops slightly, and I no longer aim at Topa. I pull into myself and aim the blame at my own feet. I should have never left Preacher's side. He's dead because I wasn't there to save him.

  End Katharine's view...

  “You’re here to do what?” he questioned. “Kill me?” Topa looked her over. “You don’t have it in you.”

  She lifted the gun as if that alone would give her the courage, but courage wasn't what she was missing. “You should die for what you did but before I kill you, I have to know. Do you work for the Council or the Factory? Which one of them had Preacher killed?”

  “The Factory I’ve never heard of, but the Council...” He studied her more closely before he questioned her, “What would someone like you know of them?”

  She snapped, “You didn’t answer my question! Who do you work for?!”

  Topa laughed. “I work for no one but myself.”

  Katharine's view...

  “So you refuse to answer me. It doesn't matter.” I scream, “You must die! You have to die because you killed him!”

  I aim the gun again as I wrestle with the trigger and my emotions; I don't understand. Why am I hesitating? Why don't I shoot Topa and finish it? At that moment, I feel the worn leather of the book I carry in my other hand, and it reminds me of Preacher, and I think I hear his voice. I drop my gun arm and sob as I finally understand. Preacher wouldn't want me to take revenge. It's wrong. He wouldn't want me to kill someone because of him.

  End Katharine's view...

  Outside the window...

  Kim muttered, “Idiot! You’re weak and spineless.” Kim gripped the PPK as she muttered, “Kill him. Take your revenge. I wouldn’t hesitate if someone had killed someone precious to me.”

  Within the Sanctum...

  An alarm sounded. The analysts and supervisors fell silent in the Chamber as they tensed, fearing the reaction of the Council. On the center screen in large red letters blinked, Third Evolvement Failure.

  “NO!” Mr. Decuma shouted as he slammed his fist on the table, jogging his laptop. “Pandora failed! Why can it not take a life? Pandora has no problems dealing with the Un-Men, but it refused to kill every human assassin we sent after it.”

  “The Un-Men are bio-mechas. They are not alive,” Ms. Nona stated. “Pandora knows the difference even with the conditioning.”

  “Should we terminate the project? “Mr. Decuma asked.

  An analyst turned off the alarm as Mr. Morta replied, “No, not just yet; all we need to do is find a sufficient catalyst.”

  “What about the tests?” Ms. Nona questioned.

  Mr. Morta ordered, “Call off the bounty on Pandora’s head and cancel the Life Closing for now. Pandora could use the rest.”

  “Agreed. I stated my concerns earlier over its fatigue,” Ms. Nona said. “We have been pushing it too hard. Most subjects would have broken by now, and what about the Un-Men? Can we get the Factory to call them off?”

  “We can request it, but I doubt they will,” Mr. Morta answered. “The Factory feels they have as much of a right to Pandora as we do and most likely, they will continue to test their bio-mechas. We will focus on finding a catalyst for now.”

  “Agreed,” Ms. Nona and Mr. Decuma said in one accord.

  Back at Topa’s estate...

  When she dropped her arm, his henchmen quickly grabbed Kat from behind, and one of them took her gun.

  “Vengeance is mine, says the Lord,” Topa said and then chuckled as one of his henchmen grabbed the book from her. “I think you should take up a new religion because this one has failed you.” He motioned to his henchmen. “Take her to the wine cellar and hold her there. I’ll be down later to deal with our new guest.”

  They nodded and took her out as Topa closed the drawer to his desk that held the gun. He stood, walked to a wall safe, and started to unlock it when he heard the door opened. “Now what is it?” Topa asked, irritated, and turned toward the front.

  Kim entered, locked the door, removed her knit mask, and then stated, “I usually don’t let anyone see me.” She knew the Mark didn’t know the reason for her arrival, but he soon would, and she took a bit of wicked pleasure out of that fact. Kim told him, “But you’re a special case.”

  “I’m going to have to do something about my security.” His expression changed as he looked over the beautiful blonde. “I suppose you’re also one of Preacher’s friends.” He moved back to the side of his desk and pulled out his chair but didn't sit. “Perhaps a lady of the evening who can’t live without her daily confessions?”

  She sneered, moving to the middle of the office. “Keep your hands where I can see them. I don't need you tripping any silent alarm, and as for my profession...” Kim threw a business card on his mahogany desk.

  Topa glanced down at it and then questioned, “What’s this? A firebird?” He recognized the emblem and sat in his chair as if someone had shoved him down in it. “No... You can’t be.” He peered up and panicked. “Puck! You’re the Phoenix?!” He stood, searching for a place to run. “You’re a Closer! Don’t kill me! I’ll pay you anything! I can give you credits or–” Topa motioned to his safe. “–I have cash.”

  “Hades... You really di
sgust me. Why is it I always hear the same old thing from you Marks? Do you really think you can buy off a Closer? Well, you can't.” She cleared her throat and then stated, “Samuel R. Topa, the Valhalla Corporation has decided they no longer want to do business with you. They're tired of losing their shipments of Sunna Snapps, so under the Life Closer Clause of your contract with Valhalla, I am authorized by the Assassin’s League to terminate your life.”

  “But why kill me?”

  “I’m only guessing, but it sounds like the narcotic Sunna Snapps hasn’t been approved for use, but you're selling it anyway for the corporation. A kind of clinical street trial, but the participants don't know they're guinea pigs. You messed up when you lost a few of the shipments,” Kim replied as she aimed. “The Valhalla Corporation is now tying up loose ends and using the pretense of your contract to do it.” She shot twice and smoke rolled from the silencer and with no emotion, she added, “You know... just business.”

  Gray matter splattered the wall as Topa fell back in his chair and blankly stared at the ceiling.

  “For once, someone got what they deserved,” she muttered. “For Ares' sake! To think you had a preacher killed and used an Illicit Closer to do the job. Did you really think the Assassins Guild wouldn't find out?” She glanced over the black and white photos on his wall. “I know people like us are going to Tartarus, but you had to provoke whatever god you believe in to send you there a little early.”

  Kim pulled the knit mask back on and headed out the front door.

  Chapter Nine

  The Un-Men Arrive

  Points of interest...

  Corporations had to develop alternatives for those addicted to nicotine since tobacco plants were nearly wiped out the first few months after the Dry Clouds appeared. The first year of the Dry Clouds (Zero Year), tobacco farms were started on the Light Side of the planet. Twenty-eight years ago, the Corporate Senate decided that crops planted on the Light Side had to produce food so NicPhake and other synthetics were created. The idea was to wean people off of smoking all together. The synthetic tobacco proved to be as addictive, and the secondhand smoke from NicPhake caused blindness in some infants. NicPhake was then regulated and could only be acquired with a prescription.

 

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