Walter nodded before he slinked away. Nathan climbed the stairs. Glass crunched under his boots as he scaled the metal grate steps. The haze grew thicker the higher he went. Halfway up, the toe of his boot kicked a discarded needle that fell through the murk to the concrete below.
The catwalk vibrated as he stepped on it. Cardboard huts ran the length of the catwalk in both directions as far as Nathan could see. In front of him, he saw a pile of filthy blankets tucked beneath a rotting cardboard box, a lone arm jutting out from beneath.
He shook his head in disgust and moved to the right. His footsteps clanged in the quiet and announced his arrival before he stood in front of the fifth bunk. From within, he saw a pair of beady eyes gaze out at him. Nathan stared back for a long moment before he spoke. “Do you know who I am?”
Damien’s eyes darted back and forth before Nathan saw him nod once. “Good,” Nathan said, “that will make this easier.” He turned away from the bunk and rested his hands on the railing encircling the catwalk. Looking out over the darkness covering the factory floor, broken only by sporadic fires burning, he watched the haze drift on stale currents before he turned back and leaned against the railing.
“Your mother’s worried about you,” Nathan said, “She thinks something horrible has happened to you.” Nathan glanced at the surroundings. “More horrible than this.”
“I’m fine,” Damien whispered.
“You have a strange definition of fine, kid.” Nathan motioned to his pile of stuff. “Get your shit, we’re leaving.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Damien said.
“Cute,” Nathan said, “You know who I am, yet you act like you have a say in the matter.”
Damien shimmied further back in the bunk. Nathan leaned back against the railing. “You a junkie, kid?”
“No!” Damien answered, “Just because I sell it doesn’t mean I use it.”
“Why do you want to stay here then?”
“Duh,” Damien said, “this is where my customers are.”
Nathan rose off the railing. “Your customers will stick a knife between your ribs the moment your eyes close. That’s why you don’t see any other dealers around, kid. If you were old enough to be out here you’d know that.”
Sullen, Damien said, “You don’t understand.”
“Humor me.”
Damien shifted forward bringing his face into the sparse light for the first time since Nathan arrived. “I’m making something of my life.”
Nathan smirked. “Not here you’re not.”
“I’m earning good money,” Damien said, “And, when I have enough, I’m moving inside the wall. Mom will understand.”
Nathan shook his head. “You’re coming with me.”
“You’re not my father!” Damien hollered. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Everything that happens out here is my business.” Nathan took another step closer. “Who gave you the shit to sell?”
Damien lowered his head and remained quiet.
“I appreciate loyalty kid,” Nathan said, “but it’s misplaced here. Your boss works for me. And they’ve broken the cardinal rule by hiring you. You’re fifteen. Kids don’t touch this shit on my streets. They don’t sell it and they can’t buy it. Give me the name.”
“I can’t. I—”
“Your days of pushing are over,” Nathan interrupted, “We can do this two ways. You either come willingly or I carry your ass out of here like a baby. Either way, you’re going home and giving up your source.”
Damien crawled out of the bunk and stood before Nathan. He only rose to just below Nathan’s shoulders. “I’ll go,” he said, “But don’t think you can keep me there.”
Nathan grabbed his elbow as he tried to brush past him. “You know who I am kid. I have eyes everywhere on these streets. I hear about you being back out here …” He squeezed his elbow until Damien winced. “…it will be the last mistake you ever make.”
He stared into Damien’s eyes until he saw the fear blossom there and knew he now lived rent free in the kid’s nightmares. Nathan let him go, and Damien said, “Jax—Jax is my hook-up.”
“Not anymore.” Nathan patted him on the head. “Good boy. Let’s go home.”
16
A chill wind swept over the hill, lifting the light dusting of snow into whirlwinds around Alexis. She moved closer to the pillars of the war memorial to get out of the bitter wind.
She’d been freezing on the hill for twenty minutes and still had not seen Ness. Clapping her hands together, she blew into them for warmth.
Alexis called the meet with a post on her blog by B. Bradlee to alert Ness. It read: Well done.
As she wondered if he checked the blog, she noticed the long shadow move across the white landscape. She turned and watched Ness approach.
He moved past her without a word and took a seat on the bench beyond the memorial. A moment later she sat next to him.
“It’s unwise for us to meet again so soon,” Ness said. “Not to mention dangerous.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.”
He rubbed his hands together for warmth. “What do you need?”
Alexis shook her head. “It’s what I have. I may have another way to bring Miller down.”
Ness looked sidelong at her. “I’m listening.”
She kept her gaze straight ahead as she spoke. “The Cabal used to have an accountant keeping track of all their illicit activities. You ever heard of Mickey Spagnuolo?”
He shrugged. “No, but I can’t imagine they let him quit.”
“They didn’t,” Alexis said, “His body has never been found, but I found his son Leo. He showed me a ledger Mickey kept.”
Ness rubbed his hands together. “You saw this ledger?”
Alexis nodded. “I have it tucked away in a safe place.”
“Why aren’t you using it?”
“This ledger only recorded legal transactions.”
Ness scoffed. “So, it’s useless then.”
Alexis insisted otherwise. “If Mickey kept a record of his legal dealings, it stands to reason he kept a record of his illegal dealings. I find his second ledger and the Cabal is finished. Including Miller.”
Despondent, he sighed. “Do you plan on asking the dead guy where he kept it? Going to see a medium after this?”
Alexis stiffened her posture. “I know where. Or, at least, I know who has it, I think.”
“We’re not lucky enough for it to be Leo, I take it?”
“No,” Alexis admitted, “theory is Mickey kept his illicit ledger in a safe deposit box. Leo only discovered the box after it had been emptied by Eli Wurth.”
“Jesus, and you think he still has it?” Ness asked.
Alexis lifted an eyebrow.
Ness looked away. “It’s gone. There’s no chance Wurth kept a record of his crimes all this time.”
“You don’t know that.”
He asked, “It would’ve implicated him, why would he keep it?”
“Leverage against his allies,” Alexis said. “He would’ve watched Mickey disappear. The temptation to protect himself against a similar fate would exist. It’s worth exploring.”
“Maybe. Why the urgency to tell me this?” Ness asked.
Alexis took a moment before she answered, “After our last meet, I wanted you to know there might be another way. I didn’t want you to do anything too risky.”
“Too late for that, I’m afraid,” he whispered.
She watched him stand and step away from the bench. “Is everything okay?”
He faced away from the wind and looked down at her. His expression shadowed and unreadable in the sparse light. She heard him sigh over the wind. “You ever feel out of control?”
He shook his head before she could answer. “Forget it.” He turned and walked a short distance away before he stopped. With a glance back over his shoulder, he said, “If you�
��re going after Wurth, be sure he has what you want first. He’s dangerous. Be careful.”
Alexis watched him leave, head down against the breeze. “You too,” she said. Her words scattered to the wind.
17
Nathan stalked the gloomy streets beyond the wall, adrift on the residual high of returning Damien home.
Ahead of him, ambient lighting from a shop window bathed the sidewalk with an inviting hue. Kiff’s Comics. Do children even read comics anymore? Paused on the sidewalk, he considered entering the store. Pushed by a mixture of nostalgia and curiosity, he moved to the threshold.
Festooned with posters and decals, the glass door advertised a crisis of the clones. As he pulled it open, a chime activated, and a voice spoke from speakers behind the counter, “This isn’t funny, Dean. The little voice says I’m almost out of minutes!”
Nathan gave the dark-haired girl behind the counter a strange look. She giggled and lowered her head back to the comic she had been reading. Ignoring her, Nathan moved further into the vibrant colored store.
While he browsed, the chime went off again. This time a nasal voice squealed, “I can’t swallow that!”
Sparse laughter spread throughout the store, but Nathan didn’t get the gag. Nor did he get the next one—something about being in a tub.
“Are you sure you belong here, mister?” The young girl asked him when he approached the counter.
Nathan pointed to the speaker. “What the hell is that all about?”
She looked him up and down and grinned. “That’s how we tell who has a sense of humor, and who doesn’t.”
Nathan smirked. “I guess to be in this line of work you’d need a sense of humor.” He waited as her grin faded. “Didn’t comics stop printing after the quake? What exactly do you sell here?”
“Memories mostly. We deal in nostalgia. There’s a lot of people who want to remember the way things used to be. Or maybe, they want to forget the way things are.”
Nathan couldn’t argue with that. Her eyes drifted back to her book, and Nathan turned from the counter. He noticed a comic sealed behind a plastic slab. Faded green stylized lettering against a yellow and white backdrop stood out above the brick wall drawn down the middle of the cover.
The speaker chimed again with an excited shout, “Pudding!”
Nathan glanced toward the door.
“Hey, Jess.” The new arrival asked, “My Mjolnir replica in yet?”
Nathan shook his head. “My what now?”
Jess rolled her eyes at Nathan and greeted her customer. “Hey, Jeremy. Not yet, but your cape is here.”
“Sweet,” Jeremy said.
Nathan asked, “What the hell you need a cape for?”
Jeremy laughed. “Dude, you for real?”
Nathan took a step toward him and Jeremy backed up. “Are you?”
Jess said to Nathan, “You’re obviously not a collector, so, how can I help you?”
Nathan scowled at Jeremy another moment until certain he’d subdued him. To Jess, he asked, “You always busy this time of night?”
“Comes and goes,” Jess said. “Can I help you find something? A sense of humor maybe?”
Nathan picked up the plastic encased comic. “How much for this one?”
Jess smiled. “If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.”
“You’re joking?” Nathan asked.
She stared at him and lifted her eyebrows.
“Okay.” Nathan replaced the comic on the rack. “If you can’t sell me something, can you tell me something?”
“What do you want to know?”
Pointing at the comic, Nathan asked, “His power—he runs fast, right?”
A chorus of muffled laughter swept through the customers huddled over their boxes of comics. The door opened again and speakers responded with a juvenile voice, “It tastes like…burning!”
Jess smiled. “That’s right, and Thor is really strong.”
Nathan narrowed his eyes at the mocking tone. Jess said, “Look, you’re obviously a neophyte here, so, not a fan or a collector. Why are you here?”
Nathan stared down a pimple-faced kid a few feet away before he returned his attention to the counter. “How does he run fast?”
“With his feet,” Jeremy cracked wise. More giggles spread throughout the store.
“Funny.” Nathan asked, “You treat all your customers this well?”
“I wouldn’t consider you a customer,” Jess answered, “I’m thinking…more a nuisance.”
“Humor me then.” Nathan turned from the counter. His trench coat fell open, showing a glimpse of his sidearm. The laughter stopped.
“His superpower is speed,” Jess said. “That’s how he runs fast.”
“How is that possible?”
Jess gave him another baffled look. “Possible? It’s fictional, dude. You’re seriously weird.”
“Fictional,” Nathan said. Thoughts of the blur ran through his mind. He took another look around the shop and caught the sidelong glances he was receiving.
I have to be out of my mind. Whatever that image was, it has nothing to do with this nonsense.
With a nod to Jess, Nathan walked toward the front door. He pushed it open and heard a man yell, “We were on a break!”
“Shit,” Nathan said, “I actually knew that one.”
Nathan was only a few blocks from home when he saw the firelight dancing on the brick wall of the alley. A trashcan was ablaze with three men huddled around it for warmth. The sight never failed to give him pause. Once proud people, laid so low when a few miles away opulence ruled behind an arbitrary wall.
He approached the men and recognized one of them from the neighborhood. “Evening Joe,” Nathan said. Joe came east after California fell, looking for work and found only protectionist fear-mongering. “Gonna dip low tonight. You be all right?”
“Be just fine, Nate.” Joe smiled and popped the collar on his filthy coat. “Thanks for asking.”
“Who are your friends?” Nathan asked.
“Gene and Bradley.” Joe made the introductions. “Gene here’s from out west too, and Bradley’s a southern boy.”
To Gene, Nathan asked, “Where out west?”
“San Francisco,” Gene answered. His voice was raw and full of loss.
“Hard hit,” Nathan said. Gene shrugged. Nathan reached into a pocket and grabbed three twenties. He offered one to each of them. “Get yourselves a hot breakfast on me.”
They pocketed the cash and offered thanks. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” Nathan said. He left them and resumed his trek home.
“Hey, Nate!” Joe hollered after him.
Nathan stopped to allow Joe to catch up.
“Can I talk to you a minute?” Joe asked.
“Of course. What is it?”
Joe scratched his head and said, “That mess over in Bennington Place …” He kicked his feet on the sidewalk. “It’s got a lot of us spooked…What happened, I mean. Anything you can say to ease some nerves?”
Nathan considered the request. “We’re gonna get the bastard. In the meantime, stick together and you’ll be fine.”
“They was together,” Joe whispered.
“They were,” Nathan admitted. He clapped Joe on the shoulder and said, “Try not to worry. I promise I’ll sort it out.”
Joe smiled, however weak. “I know you will, Nate. You’re one of the good ones.”
Nathan gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he said goodbye and headed for home. His thoughts plagued by the injustice and AmeriGEN’s complicity. Rounding a corner, he felt eyes on him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and his muscles tensed. Hyperaware of his surroundings, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Still, his hand hovered over his sidearm.
A long moment passed before he set off again. With his hand poised by his gun, he cut through an alley leading to his street. He could hear his footsteps echo in the silence m
oments before certainty gripped him.
Nathan spun around to face only darkness. He continued walking, shrugging off the feeling. He felt eyes on him again and spun back around. The alley was empty.
Nathan took a tentative step forward before he whipped his head around and saw an indigo blur. He jumped back and pulled his gun out but moved too slow.
The gap closed in an instant, and a force slammed into Nathan. The impact sent him off his feet. While airborne, the blur raced ahead and landed another blow sending Nathan sideways into a metal dumpster.
The force of the impacts ruptured a number of Nathan’s internal organs. He landed hard on the concrete and coughed up blood as he attempted to breathe.
Radiating waves of pain wracked his body. He struggled to lift his head from a growing puddle of his own blood. With glassy eyes, he looked up and saw a vibrating blur looming over him.
Then it all went away.
Act Two
Revelation
18
Orange light seeped through Nathan’s eyelids, tracing a spider web of crooked veins. His lids fluttered as he shifted his head away from the light. A stabbing pain began in the back of his head and worked its jagged spears forward. With reluctance, he opened his eyes a crack.
The light blinded him, sending his eyes in search of a comforting darkness now denied him. He groaned from the throbbing in his head and tried again to rise from the abyss that held him. He blinked rapidly as the room swam into focus. Bright overhead lights, white-washed walls, scratchy bed sheets, and a faint smell of disinfectant greeted him.
“You’re awake.”
Nathan froze, surprised to hear someone else in the room. He turned toward her voice, his brow knit together.
“How do you feel?”
Nathan shifted on the bed. His voice cracked from disuse. “Like a herd of elephants is tap dancing on my skull.”
Maria gave him a welcome smile that faltered once Nathan asked, “Why are you here?”
Her mouth formed a little circle as she struggled for an answer.
Nathan apologized. “Sorry, that sounded harsh. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s nice to see you again, I just wondered why is all?”
Singularity Page 8
