Ravenport: Luna's Awakening

by Alistair Jones

  Carl casually reaches down towards one of the bottom drawers in his desk and pulls out a small metal case, the name ‘Perego’ emblazoned on the top. He takes a moment to brush the dust from its lid before bringing it up to the desk. Smiling nervously, Carl offers the box to Miguel, pressing the button on the lock to open it. Three expensive looking cigars rest on the velvet exterior.

  “Cigar?”

  Miguel looks towards the offering and reaches a hand towards it. Rather than taking the gift, he reaches up and presses the case closed with his metal hand and then presses Carl’s hand down towards the desk.

  “What happened to Commissioner Hanes?” Miguel’s voice turned cold.

  “Hanes? Ah...he had to take an early..retirement. Very...very sudden.” Carl pulls his case out from underneath the cybernetic hand. “Something about shifting priorities.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the Hanes that I knew. Old Hanes loved his job. Used to liven up the place. Used to hear that crazy hearty laugh of his every morning he came in. But you know, I also noticed something else weird.” He taps his finger against the side of his head and before pointing back out towards the hallway. “There were lots of names I knew up here. I used to be a popular guy. We...used to be popular guys. Now just about every single one of them is gone. That’s very...very ‘interesting,' wouldn’t you say?”

  Carl offers a complacent shrug. “The line of work we have is very stressful, Morales. I can’t be held responsible for people deciding they’d rather find someplace else to be. I assure you that everyone we have on board is quite competent.”

  “All except you apparently.” Miguel quips, holding up the manilla folder from the evidence room and dropping it on the desk. “Do you know what this is?”

  Carl raises a brow at the folder and shakes his head. “For all the gifts I possess, being psychic is not one of them.”

  Miguel smirks in defiance.“I figured you say something like that. I paid a little visit to our Evidence room in the basement and found a story that I just couldn’t help but share. You know, for old times sake. It called ‘Case A-4711: The Golden Aces Incident.’”

  Carl’s heart skips a beat as the name comes up, a hardness forming in his throat in response. Miguel notes the Commissioner's stalling, a wide, sadistic smile forming on his face in reaction.

  “Oh, you know this one? What a coincidence, I do too! But just so we’re on the same page, I’ll go over it with you. It’s a real treat. I hope you don’t mind if I summarize a bit because there are a few parts I really want to review and discuss. So, see if you can follow me on this one.”

  Carl shifts uncomfortably as Miguel begins to read in an unwavering, narrator-esque voice.

  “Wednesday, October 14th, 2054. 9:30 pm. Detective Winston and Detective Morales, along with a small group of officers, investigate a search warrant on The Golden Aces Club, on the corner of 24th and Lothrop. The owner of the establishment, Benny Scardino, otherwise known as Scar, entered a verbal confrontation with the two detectives. Scar claims that there was little reason to search the club for anything, despite the production of the proper paperwork. At 9:35 pm, Scar then, with little to no provocation, decided to punch Detective Morales in the face, knocking him down.”

  Miguel rubs a hand over the right side of his face, a thumb brushing over his cheek.

  “That was a hell of a punch. Anyway, Detective Winston calls in police backup and orders all immediately present civilians out of the building. At approximately 9:36, Scar’s own security forces open fire on the detectives and the police officers. The gunfight lasts until approximately 9:41 with a surrender from Scar’s guards and himself.”

  Miguel stops reading for a moment and looks up towards Carl’s stiffened facial expression, his own lips forming into a heavy smirk.

  “And here comes my favorite part of this entire story.” His brows raise as he sarcastically clears his throat. “Detective Morales sustained serious physical injuries as the result of this escalated violence and had to be immediately rushed to the hospital. Upon further investigation, the search warrant was invalidated by faulty paperwork, and all arrested parties were pardoned. See docket B for more details on the parties involved.”

  Miguel closes the manilla folder and places it underneath his hands, both of which were rhythmically tapping against it.

  “So, just so I can get his or her information, who was the bullshit artist you hired for this? Because holy crap, this is priceless. It belongs in a museum.”

  Carl holds up a hand, gesturing for him to stop, his voice remaining calm. “Morales…”

  “No no no, I’m serious,” Miguel says, his ire starting to show. “I could see it now, hanging on the wall, next to the great works of art of still life and shit. The museum could sell miniature prints of it in the gift shop.”

  Carl starts to frown, his brows furrowing. “Morales...I will not tolerate-”

  Miguel erupts, slamming his hands into the desk hard enough to rattle the entire thing and gritting his teeth through every word. “You and I both know what the hell went down that night. Those guys were dodging bullets. NOBODY is that fast. Some of those guys were walking around with holes blown clean in them. NOBODY can do that! Guys like that, WHATEVER they are, could have killed us all, but they didn’t. They gave up. They LET us take them. And by the way, one gunfight with a bunch of thugs with low caliber peashooters does this!?”

  He pulls off his leather jacket and starts to pull up his white dress shirt to show off his cybernetic arm. It still has the contours and shape of a human arm and appears to be linked to his shoulder. It moves just as fluidly as his real arm as he flexes it, curling it in front of him. He places his regular hand over the top of the dull silver one, squeezing it.

  “You are saying that the injuries I sustained from a gunfight where they didn’t harm any of us, was enough to get three limbs amputated? NOBODY WAS HURT WINSTON. And we did make a MAJOR bust that night. We seized an entire shipping room full of all sorts of crap. Illegal weapons...drugs...some orange crap we couldn’t identify. What happened to that stuff? Why isn’t it in the report? It doesn’t even mention what happened later on that night.”

  Carl pushes himself from his seat, matching Miguel’s angry tone of voice with one of his own.

  “MORALES! You are out of line! You will lower your voice this instant-”

  “11:50 pm, that same night. Scardino and two of his men storm into my house-”

  Carl roars the next command, his eyes widening. “Those are unsubstantiated claims!”

  “...and blew away my Maria in the kitchen. In cold blood.” Tears start to well up in Miguel’s eyes, but he keeps up the same level of animosity in his voice. “I was upstairs, trying to read a bedtime story to my daughter when I heard the gunfire. I told her that Daddy needed to go check on on something and to stay quiet. I told her I’d be back. I ran downstairs and grabbed my pistol. When I got downstairs, they were dragging her corpse into the living room...her head all busted up. I shot at them. I gave them everything I had, but the bullets, they just weren’t connecting like they should. They were doing the same crap that they were doing at the Club. I know where I aimed. And I know I’m not that bad of a shot. One of em pulled out a shotgun and got me in my shoulder.”

  Miguel runs a hand over the upper part of his cybernetic arm. “There were getting close, and I needed to get the hell out of there. I booked it upstairs and grabbed my daughter and said that we have to go. I told her that it would be okay.”

  Carl’s expression softens as Miguel continues to tell the story, his facial expression softening.

  “I jumped out of the window with my baby girl and sprained my ankle in the fall...but she was safe. The guys jumped out after me faster than I thought they could and...just like that, they took her from me. I was still holding her when they did it. I watched her die. Right here.”

  He raises a hand to his heart, clutching it tightly.

  “They turned on me. They shot me in the
arms and legs so I couldn’t move. They started stomping on me, talking about how ‘this wasn’t apart of the deal.’ Over and over again, those assholes hit me. I didn’t even think it was possible to lose that much blood. I thought for sure I was a goner. I couldn’t feel anything Winston. Everything was busted. And then, just like that, they stopped. I thought maybe they might be done, but they weren’t. They backed off to set my place on fire. That place I’d saved up for. The place I was going to raise a family in. The place I was going to grow old in. They took that from me too. The last thing I remember from that night is my place going up in flames.”

  Miguel’s voice turns stern, leaning forward to stare Carl in the eye.

  “None of that is in your report either. Fast forward to five years later, and I hear that my good buddy not only did NOT get attacked but instead, he got promoted to a position that very, very, very few people qualify for. I figured that if Scardino attacked me, you would be on his hit list next because we busted him together. So yeah. That’s pretty damn suspicious, don’t you think?”

  Carl regains his hardened composure and doesn’t back down from Miguel as he continues to speak.

  “So I ask you, Winston. Man to man. Why is the truth being hidden? By whose hand? Why were three men that I personally watched get arrested, in three hours, given a supposed pardon to come and then come attack me? Why was I the only one attacked?”

  The commissioner finally breaks his silence, speaking in a calm but strict voice.

  “As sad as a story that is, I am afraid that I must stick by the official documentation provided by the department on that day. If you pursue this manner further, despite our previous partnership, I will TERMINATE your employment immediately and personally see to it that you will never get a job with the city again. I have entertained your unsubstantiated theories long enough for one evening.”

  Miguel seemed almost taken aback at this statement as if he’d been hit in the jaw. He sat for a moment, seeming to think of something before looking back up towards Carl in defiance, pulling out his wallet, retrieving his golden Ravenport Police Department badge and slamming it into the desk. He drives his metal hand into it hard enough to crush the convex medal flat against the desk. The imprint of his knuckles even damaged the wood beneath it. The physical shock makes Carl jump back a foot or two in surprise.

  “If this is the kind of man that is running the police department, the kind of man who will turn a blind eye to criminals, the kind of man that does not seek the truth, then I want NOTHING to do with him, his organization, or his city. And let me make something else perfectly clear since we’re laying down ultimatums.”

  Miguel pulls his fist back up and rolls his shoulders, pulling back on his leather jacket and glaring at Carl the entire time.

  “If I find out that you had anything to do with my family being taken from me, you will wish I had the kindness of killing you.”

  “Morales…” Carl’s stern tone returns, though not quite as neutral as he had been before. “Is...that a threat?”

  Miguel makes his way towards the door, opening it, but turning to speak one last time. “An innocent man wouldn’t be worried right now, would he Commissioner Winston? I suggest you read your own damn badge, it might inform you how to do your job.”

  With that, Miguel slams the door closed, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking down the hallway. Carl, with his former partner gone, takes a deep breath and moves to sit down at his mildly disturbed desk, looking over the badge that Miguel had flattened. The ornamental metal contained a shield emblem that that featured a star in its center with a raven flying over the top of it. The words surrounding the formed a circle reading ‘Cast in the name of the law, we shall protect thee.’ Carl pries the badge up from the indentation in his desk and flings it into a nearby trashcan. That done, he reclines in his chair and covers his forehead with his palm.

  “If only you knew…”

  Chapter 4

  Continue?

  Luna awakens groggily, slowly sitting up from her prone position on the ground. Her eyes didn’t want to focus as everything around her seemed to be somewhat translucent, almost like it wasn’t there but desperately trying to be. She lazily drags a hand down to her stomach to not only feel that her wound seemed to be gone, but that she couldn’t feel much of anything, let alone pain. She startles herself into awareness and squints, concentrating on clearing her vision.

  At first, she didn’t quite understand where she was, as there were few details to go on. The sky is a pale, stark white with nothing prevent it from feeling like some sort of empty void. The sand beneath her was a translucent blue but solid, her hand could sink into it and pull out of it like it’s corporeal counterpart. On the one side of her was an ocean, blacker than midnight and with soft waves crashing into the beach. On her other side looked to be a forest, not terribly unlike the one she lived near. The only sound she could hear was the dark ocean and looking lengthwise down the beach, it seemed as though this was a very small island.

  Luna stands up and looks down at herself, realizing that she also shared the same translucent quality of her environment. She tried to speak, but when she opened her mouth, no words came. It was as if there was no air to breathe in. Still though, this place felt...familiar. Like a second home that she’d never visited before.

  A soft purple pillar of light shoots up from somewhere around the middle of the island, ethereal swirls flowing around it gracefully. Luna clumsily steps off of the beach and wanders into the forest, using the beacon as a guide. A feeling of warmth starts to permeate her as Luna draws closer to the center of the island and as she did, she felt...stronger. Her steps gained purpose and balance, her body started to turn more solid and tangible and her vision sharpened. It wasn’t long before she was before the purple pillar, looking up into the sky. It seemed to go on for forever.

  Luna reaches out to touch the pillar cautiously and for that brief moment of contact, she felt...at peace. This was something she not only wanted to do...but needed to do. Compelled to do. She pushes her hand into the pillar, and a tugging sensation nipped at her fingertips, almost in a ticklish manner. Luna takes a deep breath and finally pushes herself into the pillar entirely, letting its light engulf her form. A great force propels her upward into the beam, sending her up and away from that island speeds that were hard to comprehend.

  A comfortable, motherly voice booms in Luna’s head, as if it was something familiar but never spoke up until now.

  ~”We are all connected.”~

  Luna wakes up a second time and this time things felt as they should, with the omnipresent cold reminding her of the snow she was currently resting in. She starts to move, but the sound of two sets of soft footsteps make their way closer as well as the conversation they were carrying. The voices were masculine and somewhat hushed, the men keeping their presence to a minimum. Luna lays as stiffly as possible, keeping her eyes closed and her ears open.

  Dwayne grins, pointing towards Luna. “Aww...it looks as though one of our guests had an accident.”

  “Is she dead? Should we let the bear have his dinner?” Austin says, looking around for any sign of either their ursine charge or it’s prey.

  The conversation pauses as Dwayne draws close to Luna, threatening to inspect her a little more closely. He crouches down and reaches a hand towards her. Luna holds her breath silently, expecting a roaming hand of some sort. But instead, Dwayne draws his hand back and stands, speaking with his companion again.

  “No. At least not yet.” Dwayne says, pointing back down towards the fallen girl. “She is not going anywhere right now. We need to find the other one so we can finish.. No loose ends.”

  “Of course. He’s just a regular kid, right?”

  The voices start to retreat away from her, heading past her and into the forest proper.

  “Just some two-bit punk with a gun. More filth to wipe away.”

  “Can you sense the location of the bear brother?”

 
“It’s west of here...not far.”

  The voices become too faint for Luna to follow and once they were out of earshot, she opens her eyes. The snowfall had been relatively constant while she was unconscious because she sunk in it by a few centimeters. The moon’s brightness is still enough to see her way through the forest, just like it had been before falling unconscious. As she pushes herself to a sitting position, a dull, heavy pain sits in her abdomen. Leaning over herself to investigate, it wasn’t hard to see why she could be mistaken as dead. Blood heavily stained the belly of her jacket, even going so far as to seep into the nearby snow, turning it pink. Her wound also seemed to be healed, but the skin there was still incredibly tender and exposed to the elements. A brief thought is given to where the bullets might have ended up, but a similar tenderness is also felt in her back at roughly the same spot, ended her speculation. Just how long was she out for?

  Her eyes widen in shock as she recalls where the incident that left her for dead. She and Percy never really gotten along pretty much their entire lives, but...did he really hate her this much? Why? She never really done anything to him to deserve it, even going so far as to avoid him in school and at home. Even so, she still didn’t wish to harm him and was genuinely trying to find a way to protect them both. The fact that he’d wound her intentionally to save himself...the thought incinerated any kindness she may have had for him. She crushes her hands into fists and stands, a barely controlled rage bubbling up inside her.

  As she gets up, she immediately senses that something is fundamentally wrong. The anger seeped into her heart and held it tightly, seeming to flow away from her head. Instantly, Luna’s balance weakens, causing her to waver where she stood. She takes a few quivering steps to a nearby tree and uses it as a crutch, wrapping an arm around it tightly. Luna looks down at her shins and sees nothing but a snow clotted jeans and no visible damage. The pain intensified in both of her shins, almost as if something were applying mounting pressure onto them. Unsure of what to do in this situation, Luna grabs the sore spot with her spare hand, desperately trying to diagnose the problem. Almost as soon as she laid her hands on it though, her leg shifts cleanly, bending backwards of it’s own accord. The agony was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Her other leg follows suit, repositioning in the same way her first one did. She slams into the snow face first with a short and ragged breathing, her vision swimming with tears. The pain forced her into a tight fetal position, her mind trying and failing to be anything but in a state of silent panic.