by Nat Kozinn
“We’re going to the window so I can give the police the all clear. Now turn around, and walk in front of me. Any sudden moves, and it’s the end of you.”
“I never wanted to hurt anyone. I just wanted them to get off me,” is his response, but he seems to understand, and complies with my orders.
I stand next to him with my gun in his back as we make our way towards the front windows. I open up one of the windows to yell down.
Before I can open my mouth, there’s a boom loud enough to damage the microscopic hairs in my inner ear. I feel a warm liquid hit my forehead. I look over at Robert. He doesn’t have a face anymore. He has a gaping bleeding hole where his face should be. His body crumples to the floor in a heap. It takes me a few seconds to process what happened. Those bastards shot him!
My brain goes ballistic with rage. I don’t even try to suppress the emotion. Without taking any time to think about what I’m doing, I jump out the window onto the ground below. The three-story fall bursts blood vessels all over my feet and causes damage to my right Achilles tendon, but I couldn’t care less.
Police officers are already streaming out of the perimeter and towards the building. It’s a sea of blue coming at me. I pick out one young scared-looking officer who is on his way past me. I grab him by the collar.
“Who gave the order to shoot?” I demand even though I know the answer.
He doesn’t answer, but he points his trembling figure back behind the perimeter, right at a grinning Detective Rose. I make a beeline for the pig. He looks amused as I charge towards him.
“Looks like your lucky day. Pauly isn’t always such a good…” Detective Rose starts to say.
He can’t finish his sentence because my fist gets in the way of his tongue. I feel his jaw crack from my punch and watch as three of his teeth spill out to the ground. He follows them down to the asphalt. I jump on top of his chest and continue my assault. The skin on my knuckles tears and my bones chip, but that doesn’t stop me from hitting him. What does finally stop me is two officers tackling me to the ground.
I don’t give up though. I break free from the two cops holding me down. Three more join in, but still I won’t stop, I writhe and kick as hard as I can. Finally, I feel a friendly hand on my shoulder, snapping me out of my bloodlust. I look up and see Maria.
“Calm down,” she says, and I finally do.
The five officers who were pinning me down lift me to my feet, but they keep hold of my arms. Captain Murphy emerges from the crowd of officers that has gathered around us. Detective Rose is helped to his feet.
“You’re done. You hear me? Done,” Rose spits out through his busted jaw. He’ll be able to speak for a few more minutes before the swelling makes it impossible to move his mouth “No protests or letters are going to save you this time. Cuff him.”
“Whoa, whoa, everybody relax!” Captain Murphy decides it is finally time to speak up.
“Relax? Your little pet freak is out of control. First I catch him sneaking around my crime scene and now this? It’s time for him to go back in a cage,” Rose says.
“Sneaking around your crime scene?” Captain Murphy asks and looks to me. I shrug and try to form as innocent a smile as I can muster. “In any case, let’s not let this situation get blown out of proportion.”
“Out of proportion? He’s a murderer. I already had the situation under control. The sniper shot Robert in cold blood, and it was on his orders,” I say.
“He was still a threat. I warned you we would shoot if we got the chance.”
“So if you say the word threat you can kill any prisoner under my control?” I fire back.
“Enough. Obviously, there was confusion on both sides. Now we all know there are going to be a lot of questions from the press as it is. There are going to be even more questions if the Metro Area’s hero ends up arrested as a result of all this. Why don’t we chalk this up to two law enforcement agencies still learning how to work together, and go our separate ways? Right now, we’re all heroes who saved the day. Once accusations start flying and grand juries get convened, nobody is going to end up looking good,” Captain Murphy says. I’ve never heard him sound so competent.
Detective Rose glares at Captain Murphy for a moment, then it looks like a thought strikes him. He gives the officers holding me a nod and they let go, roughly.
“See, not so hard. Why don’t you two fellow law enforcement agents shake hands?” Captain Murphy says. When he catches the look in my eye he adds, “That’s an order for you, Gavin.”
Detective Rose and I walk towards each other. He has to lean on another officer for support while he walks. Is it wrong to feel good about that?
We meet and shake hands. He makes sure to squeeze my bloody knuckles, but I just smile. The joys of being able to turn off your pain response. I tell myself I’m enduring this humiliation so I can stay out of a jail cell. That way I can find some way to make sure justice is served to Detective Rose. Whatever it takes to win.
We release hands, and Detective Rose says something under his breath I cannot understand due to his broken jaw and missing teeth. I decide discretion is the better part of valor, and I let him get away with whatever smartass comment he made.
“Way to be the bigger man,” Captain Murphy says and puts his hand on my shoulder. “You might want to clean your face. You’ve got a mess all over you.”
I touch my face and realize it is covered in blood. But it is not my blood, or Detective Rose’s. It is Robert White’s blood. I can taste it in my mouth; it tastes like a chemical fruit salad.
12
Jefferson came back to start Game 7 only five days after doctors found a crack in his fibula that caused him to miss Game 6, evoking images of Willis Reed in the 1970 finals. Unlike Reed, whose contribution to his team was largely emotional, Jefferson provided meaningful minutes to this Timberwolves squad. Visibly limping and grimacing with each step, Billy the Kid still managed to score 18 points on 6-12 shooting, including the game-winning shot with 12 seconds left.
“Timberwolves Win Championship on the Back of Hobbled Jefferson” by Roger Burns, Minneapolis StarTribune
August 25th
Sit-ups: 861
Pushups: 1022
Pull-ups: 311
Running: 16.29 miles, 93.66 minutes total, 5:46 Average Mile time
Diet: 2,630 Calories, 197 grams protein, 296 gram carbohydrates, 73 grams fat.
Sleep: 8:17
Funds: $9,101.85
Ammo Count: 167 rounds 7N1, 324 rounds 9mm, 12 Stun Grenades, 12 Smoke Grenades, 12 Standard Grenades. Love that resupply!
Activities: Eliminated Target 21. Tattoo confirmed Male Gamma Cognitively Enhanced. Administered Cocktail Revision 5 to Male Beta Substance Producer.
Target Notes: Passed by Target 21 on way home from meeting with Money Man. Tattoo indicated Gamma, not a major threat. Ran ahead and took position in an abandoned apartment. Fired single shot, killing target. Increase in ammo supply allows for use of Dragunov. Easier to act with less preparation. Expecting an increase in kills.
Money Man Plan Attempt 5 Notes: Administered cocktail to Acid-Flinger. Closer but still far from the cigar. Still too irrational to present a realistic threat.
Personal Notes: Met with Money Man. He provided $20,000 in cash. I demanded end of drugging. Surprisingly, Money Man agreed. Said he is developing a new strategy but would not share details. Does not trust me any more than I trust him.
Mental State: Feeling strong. Resupply helped eliminate pent up anxiety. Funds and supplies are adequate to continue activities for some time even if relationship with the Money Man deteriorates. I’m going to show them what one man can do. Imagine what would be possible if the whole human race stood up.
13
With our police department too afraid to move in, this Metro Area’s hero, Gavin Stillman, once again risked life and limb to save the lives of complete strangers. With his partner unavailable due to injury, “The Beast Slayer” was forced to act alon
e in order to save the hostages taken by the criminal Different Robert White. As has become his habit, Gavin saved the day, with the only casualty being the criminal himself, who police were forced to shoot after he continued to resist despite being apprehended by Mr. Stillman. We do not know what has caused this seeming increase in violent outbursts by Different individuals, but we do know this, the Metro Area is fortunate that “The Beast Slayer” is fighting for us all.
“Another Win for the OEC” by Forest Brown, think.Net News LA
“You don’t think it’s a little suspicious that Rose didn’t mention me following him until now?” I say to Captain Murphy and Victor, the latter of whom is sitting up in his hospital bed. He’s finally looking better.
“You’re unbelievable Gavin,” Captain Murphy says and shakes his head. “You get caught lying to me, violating the terms of your parole, and interfering with a police investigation and somehow that’s proof that someone else is up to no good? You have it in for Detective Rose, but so far all he’s done is be a nice guy. He was happy to keep quiet about you sneaking around until you went and broke his jaw and he gave that Speedster kid a break, letting him off with a warning. Now suddenly he’s killing Differents on purpose?”
“Rose didn’t give the Speedster a break out of the kindness of his heart. He did it to cover his own ass. I talked to the Arnold. He didn’t take the drugs on purpose. He doesn’t know what happened. Rose made up that story so he could let Arnold go without an arrest report or blood toxicology test.
“Really? When did you have a chance to talk to Arnold? I don’t remember authorizing that. Is that what this is all about, your crazy Different drugging theory? That’s why you were at Rose’s crime scene?” Murphy demands.
“No, I was there for something else,” I say and pause. He isn’t going to like this. “I was helping a police officer who thinks there’s a serial killer targeting Differents.”
“Jesus Christ!” Captain Murphy yells. Then he puts his face in his hands and rubs his eyes in exasperation.
“It’s true. Victor was there the first time I talked to her. She says Differents have been getting killed all over her precinct but the higher ups don’t care. She says…”
“I’m going to walk out of this room and pretend I don’t know all the things I’ve learned about you in the last few hours. I’m not going to report you to my higher-ups because they might send you back to jail for violating your parole. I’m giving you a break Gavin. I hope that doesn’t get me added to your list of suspects,” Captain Murphy says and heads to the door before adding. “This is your one pass. If you violate your parole again, I’m reporting you for everything. See if you can talk some sense into him,” he says to Victor, then walks out of the room.
I stand next to Victor hospital bed, paralyzed by awkward silence for what feels like an eternity. I know Victor is waiting for me to talk first so I give in and get it out of the way.
“This probably wasn’t the best place for Murphy to give me a grilling. You need to be resting,” I say.
“The captain knows you won’t listen to him. He’s hoping I can stop you from destroying our relationship with the police department, which will mean they don’t call us in, which will mean the end of the OEC and you going back to jail. Is that what you want?” Victor asks.
“So the police can get away with whatever they want because we can’t risk making them angry? I want to be a good guy, not someone who looks the other way when I see the wrong thing happen.”
Victor doesn’t say anything for a moment. When he does speak, his voice betrays more emotion than I’ve ever heard from him.
“I was out on my third call ever for the OEC. It was in the Houston Metro Area. A Different who could generate electricity had shocked a police officer. The officer was alive but in critical condition. The assailant was on the run in the swamps outside Houston. We knew it was a race against time. The Houston Police didn’t care if it was our jurisdiction. The Different had almost killed one of their officers, and they were not going to stop hunting him. We had to get to him first. It took me and my Telepath partner a few days to track the offender down.
“He was hiding inside an old shack. My partner could tell he was in there, but couldn’t read his thoughts for some reason. We finally got him to come out. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen. He was dressed in tattered rags and he was filthy. I yelled to him, ‘Stay where you are! Lay down on the ground!’ But he didn’t listen. He was screaming, but I couldn’t understand him. He had his hands up though, and he was walking towards us. Suddenly, I heard a boom from behind me, and the kid went down. A Houston police officer had shown up on the scene, saw the kid ignoring our commands, and opened fire.
“The bullet hit him square in the chest. I knew there was no chance he was going to make it. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew he wasn’t going to make it either. He kept repeating ‘Dios me perdone, dios me perdone.’ Then I realized why he was ignoring our commands; he couldn’t understand them. He didn’t speak English. We killed a kid for the crime of not speaking English. I still see his face some nights when I’m trying to fall asleep. He wasn’t a criminal. He didn’t deserve to die, and he spent his last moment on this earth asking God for forgiveness for what he had done,” Victor says and closes his eyes.
“You didn’t kill him. The Houston Police officer did,” I reply.
“Tell that to my conscience. Maybe if I had been faster, maybe if I hadn’t been afraid, I would have been able to save that kid. What I’m saying is I know how it feels.”
“I don’t feel guilty. I feel angry. Rose is getting away with murder and who knows what other crimes.”
“Gavin, do you know how I made peace with letting that boy die in the Houston swamps? I had to accept the limits of my own power. I’m strong Gavin, stronger than you, stronger than most Differents out there, but I’m not strong enough to right all of the wrongs in the world. I had to accept the fact that despite the gifts God gave me, there is still going to be evil in this world, more than I can possibly fight on my own. I’m not strong enough to fix everything and, newsflash Gavin, neither are you. There are 25 million people in the Los Angeles Metro Area, which means more murder, corruption, and greed then anyone can fight. What takes true bravery is accepting that you only control a small piece of this world and doing your best to do the right thing in that part you do control. If you keep after Rose, you’re going to end up back in jail and you won’t be able to help anyone.”
“What about imagining you can win, then doing whatever it takes to accomplish that goal?” I reply.
“Life is more complicated than one motto. Let your girlfriend on the police force worry about corruption in her department. That’s her job. You focus on doing your job, which is protecting the Metro Area from Differents.”
#
I walk down the hospital hall, away from Victor’s room, but his words stay with me. Am I imagining plots against Differents to feed into egomaniacal fantasies about my own capabilities? Maybe there is no grand conspiracy. Maybe Differents are dying and going nuts because we live in a dangerous, destructive world where terrible things happen all the time, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I pass by a janitor mopping the floor. That’s weird, he isn’t a Walter. Is that a fake moustache… It’s Ben. I turn around and face him.
“I told you I’m good at disguises. You’ve got an enhanced memory and still almost went right by me,” Ben says.
“That’s because janitors are usually Walters. You might have been spotted if anyone gave janitors much thought. You’re lucky,” I say.
“I am, but janitors aren’t. Did you go to the lab? Did my little ruse work? I was right about the water, wasn’t I? Wasn’t I?” Ben asks rapid fire.
“You were right about the water contract, so I did check out the files. The food deliveries stopped at the same time the mine was shut down.”
“No, that can’t be right. Ultracorps is up to
something with that mine, and whatever it is, they’ll have to feed people.”
I consider letting that be the end of it. It would be nice not to have to deal with this lunatic any more. But there is the ever-so-tiny chance that all of his crazy theories are right. Maybe The Beast is alive, and maybe Ben knows how to find him. I’ll tell the truth; it’s never wrong to tell the truth, right?
“I did find something strange. On the same day the Manna deliveries were halted to the mine in question, another mine about thirty miles away got a big uptick in weekly deliveries. Fifty pounds of various Manna products to be exact.”
“See, I knew it. That’s enough to keep The Beast fed, isn’t it?”
“Barely, but maybe they moved some workers from the closed mine to that one, and they needed more food. Do you have access to Ultracorps personnel records?” I ask.
“Personnel records? Don’t be an idiot. Fifty pounds of Manna a week is enough to feed ten people, or one Beast. Do you think if there was room for ten more workers in the mine they wouldn’t have already been there? Have you seen the price of copper? I’m sure Ultracorps was like, ‘Of course we could have more workers and produce more copper, but we don’t want more money.’ All of those mines were already operating at capacity. That’s why it was so strange for one to get shut down.”
“What do we do now? Go to St. Louis so we can kill The Beast?”
“Whoa there with the bloodlust. Aren’t you supposed to have inhuman control of your emotions? He didn’t even kill your girlfriend, remember?”
“Yeah, he just horribly maimed her, left her for dead, and killed her father.”
“Touché, but this is bigger than The Beast. If Ultracorps is really hiding him, it proves they think they’re above the law. If we handle this right, there could be grand juries and a hearing in front of the Senate. Maybe Ultracorps will get shut down. At the very least, some people at the top will have to resign, maybe even Nita,” Ben says with a wide grin.
