Furies- Thus Spoke
Page 39
He shakes his head, smile widening. “Francie and I are getting married.”
Thunder grumbles outside.
Bisset’s head jerks back a bit. “Who’s Francie?”
“My girlfriend. Well, my fiancée now.” He passes the bag of food between the bars of his cage. “Here, before it cools.” She accepts the bag with a small tremble in her hand. “I didn’t think it was possible for me to love another person as much as I love her.” His eyes go distant. “My God, that woman has saved my life. Adam should have asked her to be on the team instead of me.” He turns his attention to Bisset. “Well, I just wanted to bring you something to eat. Let me know if I can get you anything else, change of clothes, jacket maybe. Nights are starting to get colder.”
A nod. “I will.” Laughter still sparkles around her mouth. “Leo?”
He stops and turns, a smile touching the side of his bruised face.
She points at her own face. “I can try to heal that for you, if you’d like.”
He seems to remember his battered and bruised features. His smile flops as he raises fingertips to his forehead. “Maybe later. They remind me of something I don’t want to forget about just yet.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key, holding it up to the light. “Adam wanted me to give this to you. Just make sure you give it back to him before sunset.” He tosses the key to her.
The woman in the titanium cell catches it and watches him wave goodbye.
She looks in the bag.
Blueberry pancakes.
Her favorite.
Giorgio stands in the rain, ignoring his drenched clothes. His curls are matted to his forehead and his shirt and jeans stick fast to him. He looks over at the people dressed in black standing under umbrellas. He watches as the coffin speckled in rainwater is lowered into the muddy grave.
Tears intertwine with rain.
Prayers are carried away by the winds.
Faces are buried in shoulders, handkerchiefs, or locked behind rigid masks.
Giorgio looks around the graveyard at all the tombstones. He looks at his home, his birthplace.
He looks down at the grave before him.
It has his name on it.
But he is not in it.
He presses a hand to his tombstone.
Then he walks away into the rain.
Vanishing like a ghost.
Or a distant memory.
Perry is giving Walter a final embrace when there’s a knock at the door. The two part and Perry opens the door on a tall woman with kinky black locks flowing free and full around her head like an unbridled galaxy. “Amala.” Perry grins. “C’mon in.”
“Hey, guys.” Amala steps inside the apartment, looks to Walter. “All set?”
“Yeah. Lemme just do a final check before I leave.” He hurries down the hall.
“Thanks for takin’ ‘im. I know you usually reserve using your powers for the older residents.”
“Absolutely no problem; you guys are family.”
Perry crosses his arms over his chest. “You ever think about working with us? An A-O who can teleport would go a long way in helping us get to crimes-in-progress faster.”
She leans a forearm against the doorway. “This coming from someone now working with a guy who can fly.” Head tilt. “And I’m sure you wouldn’t mind being carried, or anything else, in those beefy, loving arms.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t have as much swagger and style as you.”
Adam slides into the parking spot under the awning, cuts the engine. “I was going to suggest that I fly you to the airport, but now I’m glad we got caught in traffic.” He looks over at Maggie. “Gave us a bit more time together.”
She looks out the windshield at the parking deck across from them. “The idea of you flying me to the airport before I fly off in a plane.” A soft laugh. “Sounds like a comedy sketch.” She turns her blue gaze to him, mirth softening around the corners of her eyes. “So...we agree not to contact each other for a few weeks?”
Adam nods. “As difficult as it might be.” Grip tightens on the steering wheel. “But it’s probably for the best. We both need some time to get properly adjusted.”
Maggie unbuckles her seatbelt, leans over and wraps her arms around his shoulders. “I love you, Adam Kensie. Take care of yourself, and may the Lord watch over you.”
“I love you, too, Maggie.” He presses his free hand to her back. Then he watches her step out of the car, grab her suitcase and shoulder bag from the backseat, and walk into the Dominion City International Airport. She turns and gives a final wave and smile.
Gone.
Adam’s phone vibrates just as his eyes start to burn. Detective West.
“Good evening, detective.”
“We got a robbery in progress at a Wholesome Foods in Cade District. One of the perps is a highfalutin A-O who can only eat organic and gluten-free, I guess. Wouldn’t be surprised if they’re wearin’ yoga pants or sportin’ a horribly unkempt beard and big-ass glasses without lenses. Can we expect you out on the dancefloor?”
“A choir of angels seems to be playing my song.”
“Keep tryin’, you’ve almost got a decent sense of humor.”
_____ retreats back to the mental shadows to wait patiently for the next chapter in the story. And to ponder their part in it.
Dominion City breathes, lives, and pulses around them.
E N D
Acknowledgments
“Furies” (originally titled “Fury Us”) was birthed in 2008, back when I was still living in Alabama. Over the years, I met several characters in Dominion City, and in the real world, all of whom helped bring me to where I am today. While you’ll eventually meet the many citizens of Dominion City, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank and introduce you to the very real, very kind people who helped me realize my dream of sharing The Furies with the rest of the world.
First, I’d like to thank my parents, Grace and Gregory Gunn, and my Aunt Ann for nurturing my love for the written word. Growing up, I remember sitting in my aunt’s lap reading to her at my Grandma Ruby’s house, and how my parents took me and my sister to the library every other week. I have a feeling you wouldn’t be reading this book if it hadn’t been for them.
Jason Heller, I met you at Denver’s first comic book convention back in 2012. I was nervous to approach you after your writing panel, but knew it was something I had to do if I wanted to further my writing abilities and career. You have my eternal gratitude for taking a look at the first few pages of this novel and giving me your feedback.
R. Alan Brooks, my writing brotha from anotha mutha, you’ve been a wellspring of inspiration, encouragement, insight and friendship. Many thanks for helping to guide me on my journey in the short time we’ve known each other. Maybe I’ll have the pleasure of writing a script for The Burning Metronome (which everyone should check out...after they finish this book, of course).
Nate Ragolia, a galaxy of thanks for taking a chance on me and the wild imaginings bouncing around in my head! I’m proud to call Spaceboy Books the home of The Furies, and I’m excited to see what the publishing future has in store for both of us.
Finally, I’d like to thank everyone who’s encouraged me over the years in my ongoing writing quest. As a perfectionist, there’s never a final draft for me, only one that’s (please, sweet Jesus) a bit better than the last. Your excitement and requests to read my stories give me the motivation I need to finish my stories and push them out into the world.
No matter what life brings, I know I’ve been blessed.
Forever onward and upward
About the Author
A world weaver and word wrangler, O'Brian Gunn was born and raised in Alabama and now lives in Denver where he writes about geek culture for Westword, Pop Culture Classroom and NerdTeam30. His writing sirens often lull him to the expansive shores of the speculative, the supernatural, and the superhuman. While he’s had short stories published on Fiction on the Web and The Society
of Misfit Stories, FURIES: Thus Spoke is his first published novel...and hopefully not his last. You can find him on Twitter at @OBrianGunn.
About the Publishing Team
Nate Ragolia was labeled as “weird” early in elementary school, and it stuck. He’s a lifelong lover of science fiction, and a nerd/geek. In 2015 his first book, There You Feel Free, was published by 1888’s Black Hill Press. He’s also the author of The Retroactivist, published by Spaceboy Books. He founded and edits BONED, an online literary magazine, has created webcomics, and writes whenever he’s not playing video games or petting dogs.
Scorpio Steele is an illustrator, graphic designer, and comic-book artist. Among his works he has co-created the educational science-comic series The Adventures of Mr. Tompkins, based on the character originated by physicist George Gamow in 1937. To see more of his work please visit scorpiosteele.com
Shaunn Grulkowski has been compared to Warren Ellis and Phillip K. Dick and was once described as what a baby conceived by Kurt Vonnegut and Margaret Atwood would turn out to be. He’s at least the fifth best Slavic-Latino-American sci-fi writer in the Baltimore metro area. He’s the author of Retcontinuum, and the editor of A Stalled Ox and The Goldfish, all for 1888/Black Hill Press.
* * *
[1]Deleted because it’s a bit atonally twee.
[2]I might have missed this, but who is Twiggy? Let’s establish this name earlier
[3]Was this the “officer”? A little confusing.