The Broken Ones (Book 3): The Broken City

by Jobe, David

  He leaned back, crossing his legs into a position that reminded Brian of Zen masters who sit and meditate for hours. “About six or seven months back, I decided to retire from my line of work. Before you ask, I was a solutions expert for the government; the kind that makes a lot of noise and a lot of destruction. Truth was, I was really good at it. Probably because I enjoyed it so much. But, I knew I was getting along in my years and in that line of work, one off-day ends violently for you. The problem is, the government doesn’t take two weeks notice when you are employed like I was. Too many secrets rolling around in this noggin of mine. So, I went into hiding here in Indianapolis. Managed it for a couple weeks before the depression set in. At first, I thought it was because I missed the job, or was finally coming to terms with some post-traumatic stress shit. Found out later that the stuff that gives you powers has a nasty extra piece to it. It makes most suicidal. Though the Doc has never come out and said it, I think he planned that. Makes sense if you think about it. People get powers, off themselves. They swoop in and steal the bodies at some point, probably right before burial for most. Put a bunch of rocks in the coffin or something. People are less likely to start poking around than if they started snatching folks off the streets.”

  He sighed and took a breath. “I really wish I had a cigarette. Anyways. So, there I was, deep in the trenches of depression when I decide that I don’t want to spend my life like this. So, I rig up a brace in my garage and fashion a noose to it. A quick kick of a chair and I was off to the races. I take it if you knew there were weapons in here, you know what my power is?”

  Brian nodded. “I have the same power.”

  Shane whistled through his teeth. “Sorry about that. Well, as you can guess, my final solution ended up not being so final. Three days later I was back. Only problem was, I was still in a noose. So, my return to the living became short lived. I lost count of how many times that shit played out, but it was far too many. It was only after my rent became late that my landlord came by to check on me. They cut me down, and I stayed dead until I ended up in the morgue. After that, the superpower Gestapo here snatched me up, and I’ve been here ever since. The people here nicknamed me The Hanged Man from the tarot cards set. Which transformed into Mister Tarot after a while.”

  “That’s horrible. I’m sorry.”

  Shane shrugged.

  “But, why was it a bad thing that you kept dying over and over? You said you liked it there more than here.”

  Shane stared at him hard for a few moments. “Why did you want the gun?”

  Brian nodded. “I plan to escape. Figured I might need firepower at the end of the day.”

  Shane laughed and slapped his knee. “A suicide mission for an immortal. That’s irony right there.” He leaned forward. “Alright, kid. Since I know you are a good person, I’ll tell you what Doc had been trying to get me to reveal for I don’t know how long. But, you have to promise never to tell anyone else. Deal?”

  Brian nodded and crossed his heart.

  Shane nodded, a scary grin spreading across his lips. “When I did the deed in the garage, the other side was waiting for me, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. The movies, stories, what-have-you do not do it justice. So much pain and anguish. Everywhere was screaming, though I couldn’t see anyone else. There was no fire, or anything like that, just darkness, and I promise you, that was worse. The only thing I saw was the demons when they lunged out of the darkness to do their horrible deeds. Things even I hadn’t thought up in my most twisted schemes. There was this one demon, I liked to call him ‘Hooks,' who would stroll up out of the darkness like he owned the place. In each hand, he’d have an array of tiny little hooks attached to what looked like fishing line. He’d start stabbing me with them, then handing the line off to others in the darkness. They would hoot and howl and then yank. Sometimes all at once, or changing it up at random. Hooks never held one of the strings, no, he just stood there staring at me with his arms crossed as whoever, whatever, got their jollies from my pain. And the messed-up part is that whatever, whoever, was beyond the darkness, they sounded like people I knew. People I had loved. People I had killed. And they said some of the vilest things you can think of. Their verbal barbs hurt just as bad as the hooks, sometimes worse. And you tell yourself you’ll get used to it, but you don’t. Each new poke, stab, yank, utterance, what-have-you, is like it’s your first.” He visibly shivered.

  “Those few moments between sessions were both a blessing and a curse. I think the demon’s enjoyed the brief times I jumped back here. It just made going back all that more scarring. After they cut me down and I ended up here, I began to pray, to whatever God I thought might listen, all gods. I tried to ‘right my soul,' as my Grams would say. And I had every intention of staying alive and never doing that again. Then that son of a bitch waltzes in here with a shotgun and blows a hole in my chest. He had grown tired of me spouting religious text and not getting on with the whole dying song and dance. Only, this time there weren’t demons and darkness waiting. No, whatever I had done had gotten me a pass. Now the beyond is filled with wonderful things that I won’t soil by trying to describe. They’re mine and they are my everything. My hands itch to grab one of those weapons and go back, even though I know it is only for three days. Like Jesus after his, but I don’t have the devil torturing me. Not anymore.”

  Brian stared at the man for a bit then in a soft voice asked, “Can I ask you something without it offending you?”

  Shane laughed. “Don’t know. I say give it a shot.”

  “Are you sure what you experienced was the real deal? I’ve read some things online that say the mind lives a little after we die, and that we still experience things, like dreams for a bit. And dreams can seem like they last forever, even if they are minutes long.”

  Shane nodded. “I thought of that too. Is why I used that gun over there once to plaster these walls with as much gray matter as I could. No way my mind was working after that blast, but I still went to my special place. No shortening of time, no distortions, same as it was all the other times before. Could it be that I am still a nut-job, and this is all in my head? Sure. But, I believe it’s real. Now, let me ask you a question. You say you have my power. I’m guessing they haven’t devised a test that lets you know that before taking the plunge. You try to off yourself? Did you see anything?”

  Brian shook his head. “No, I accidentally killed someone. Well, two people. The husband of one shot me. I went down and like you, woke up here. No memories of the time in between though, which I am now kind of thankful for. With the amount of innocent blood on my hands, I’m sure I would not have fared well.”

  Shane shook his head. “You’ll go to the good place, no doubt. I can see it in you, and I’m not being metaphorical. After my repeated trips beyond, I can sort out the good people from the bad. The good are just people, but the bad have a stink on them like rotting corpses. You have no such stink. Are you sure you died? Who told you that you had actually died?”

  “The doctor.”

  Shane nodded. “That man is shady, for sure, but I get the vibe he doesn’t lie to you. He may tell you in just such a way that you think he’s telling you one thing, when he’s actually saying another, but he doesn’t lie. It’s an intellectual game with him. I wouldn’t mind spattering his grey matter; I’ll tell you that. If you can’t remember exactly what he said, I would say err on the side of caution and try not to rush into dying. I mean, it’s all good on the other side if you do, but there is no reason to stop enjoying this life if you don’t have to.”

  Brian nodded. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Brian. I know you don’t know me from Adam, but if you do decide to escape, come get me first. If your plan doesn’t allow for that, I understand, but if it does, I know I’ll make your chances of success far better.” He extended his hand.

  Brian shook it. “I’ve not formulated anything, so I’ll come get you if I can. I don’t even know where the way out is.
”

  “The Corridor of Corpses,” Shane said. The unsettling smile returned. “Something I heard one of the techs say awhile back. Remember me mentioning how old boy collects corpses? Well, he keeps them here, and when you leave, you have to walk through the cold storage where he keeps them. My bet is it’s supposed to be a visual reminder to his staff what the possible consequences are for crossing him. Just like Vlad and his forest of impaled bodies.”

  “Holy shit, that’s dark.”

  Shane nodded. “The good Doctor may truly be the devil. If not, at least one of his chief lieutenants. Look, you better get going. I’m not sure what time they start strolling back in, but I know it’s before the lights come back on full. Do me a favor turn the camera back on when you leave. I’ll shut off the lights again, and hopefully, they won’t notice the time gap. In the meantime, I’ll see what I can do about getting that gun’s trap unlocked.”

  Brian nodded and stood up. “Stay alive until I come back.”

  “That’s the plan. Thanks for giving me something worth sticking around for.” That grin returned.

  Brian shivered and ducked out. By the time he got to the observation room, the room beyond was dark again. Part of Brian wondered if the man stood on the other side, staring at him through the window. Brian shivered again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mouthpiece

  “Mouthpiece is awake.”

  The sound of voices speaking crashed through the darkness that had enveloped Stephen’s consciousness. Soon after the feeling of being jolted around registered, followed by the quick understanding that he was strapped down. Each jolt of whatever vehicle they were in, put pressure on the straps that he could feel going around his arms, torso, legs, and head. He felt his left eye being pried open as a bright light shined into it. Blinking and trying to tell whoever it was to stop, he found that there had been something foul stuck in his mouth and secured there. The only sound that escaped him resembled that of a Charlie Brown parent in full lecture mode.

  “Shut up,” someone directly above him hissed. “You’ll dislodge the towel and choke to death. Not the end I think you want for yourself.”

  Stephen’s vision returned, and he could see a slender yet muscular man standing over him, flashlight in a raised hand. The man’s buzzcut had been cut closer on one side, giving his head a lopsided look.

  Stephen narrowed his eyes at Lopsided but said nothing.

  “Apart from being an asshole, this guy’s fine.” Lopsided gave a shrug to someone to Stephen’s right before vanishing from view to his left. “Probably shouldn’t have given him the elixir. Wasted healing on a dead man.”

  A female spoke up. Stephen guessed it was the one Lopsided had been speaking to. “Why do you say that?”

  “This one’s doomed to haunt the Corridor.”

  Stephen struggled to move his head, turning it to look at the female speaker.

  The woman sat with her head resting against the side of a heavily armored van interior. Like her male counterpart, she had a buzz cut, but it somehow had an appealing feel to it. Her face held some of the angular features Stephen would have attributed to a man, but the tight black shirt she wore illustrated just how much of a woman she actually was. Along the left side of her head, a green serpent tattoo coiled over the ear, slipping down her neck and over her shoulder, disappearing down the front of her shirt. Nothing on her showed any insignia, but the muscular build and the all black clothes gave Stephen the impression the woman and her partner were soldiers, probably mercenaries.

  Next to her sat a small mountain of a man, more muscle than height with a matching haircut but no tattoo or impressive breasts. Dark skinned with a broken nose; he stared at Stephen with cold black eyes. “Eyes up, Mouthpiece.”

  Something about the menace in the man’s voice, or the cool feel of his gaze made Stephen turn his head to stare at the ceiling.

  “What makes you think he’s set for the corridor? Why would the boss have us keep him alive if that was the case? We already have blood samples. No need to do the extra work to transport live cargo, if the Boss wants him dead. Not his style.” The Nose sounded bored as if talking about killing a man amounted to asking a picky girlfriend where she wanted to eat.

  “Oh, this one’s for the Boss’s pet, that Bulletproof kid.” Lopsided gave a low chuckle. “This one’s going the way of Wolfe.” From the corner of his eye, Stephen saw Lopsided making motions like he was hitting something with a bat.

  “That’s nonsense,” Serpent Lady countered. “The Boss has already established with Bullet how things work in the facility. Another show of force isn’t his style. If you don’t get it the first time, you become the next example. He doesn’t bring in act two with it being the same as act one.”

  Lopsided stood so Stephen could see his face. “But that’s the beauty of it. This guy is the one responsible for Bullet being one less an eye. Well, had been less. Was less?” He paused as if trying to determine something. “Whatever. This is an offering to his pet. A test to push him to the dark side. ‘I brought you the man that tried to kill you. Here’s a lead pipe. Batter up, kiddo!’ And the kid’ll come out swinging. Mouthpiece here will meet the business end of lead and then be on display in the corridor. From Mouthpiece to Mushhead on display. Another example for the troops why you don’t dick around with the Boss’s people.”

  “All well and good, but you know the boss likes to test people on their abilities first. Might be this one get’s the battery of tests on what his powers can do.” The Nose gave a resigned sigh. “If it were just for a beatdown, why have us heal him?”

  Lopsided laughed. “Why do we clean the needles we use for lethal injections? Insult to injury. Literally.”

  “That’s not why they clean needles, Jackson. You’re such a dumbass.” Serpent Lady said.

  “Whatever.” Jackson, aka Lopsided, sat down. “What powers are you going to have the boss give you, Twist?”

  Twist, or The Nose, either being an iconic name for him, spoke in measured tones. “I think I am going to have this one’s powers if I get to choose.”

  “Because that worked so well for this tool,” Lopsided replied.

  The Nose gave a cold laugh. “This one’s a moron. No sense of style. No planning or forethought. No panache. It’s what happens when you hand a power to an infant. All impulse. Granted, the check bit was inspired, but then to foul it up on petty revenge with the front desk girl. And then suits, and getting hemmed up by a beat-cop. Amateur hour at its finest.”

  “Oh?” Serpent Lady asked. “How would you do it then?”

  “Easy. I’d work in gentle pushes. Nothing as stupid as outright murder or anything like that. Hell, walk into a bank and ask for a high dollar loan with zero interest and no collateral. Open a self-help clinic where you ask people what they want. They tell you they want to stop smoking. Tell them you got them, give them a price, and then tell them to stop smoking. People pay you to help them sort out their personal shit. No one comes looking for you. You get on Oprah or Ellen, and you get fame and fortune and not police and pissed off Altered looking to wax you.”

  “Damn, Twist. Who would have thought you so down to earth? Ellen, though? Really?” Serpent Lady gave a shrill laugh.

  “What about you Jackson?” The Nose asked.

  “Oh, invisibility for sure.” No hesitation in his answer, like he had been waiting to be asked. “I could have so much fun with that.”

  “Perv,” replied Serpent Lady.

  “Oh yeah? What do you want, Camile?” Lopsided said her name with scorn.

  “I don’t want any powers.”

  “What? Why not?” The Nose and Lopsided said in unison.

  Serpent Lady laughed. “You two haven’t been with the Boss for long. He doesn’t share power. Not if he doesn’t have to. If he comes to you and offers you a power, you can bet your ass the shit has truly hit the fan.”

  Steven could see Lopsided wave this off. “We have more combined tours between u
s to make any stateside outbreak be a walk in the park.”

  “You are truly dense, and you’re missing the point. Yeah, we’ve got a higher kill count than some small countries in the middle of a war, and the Boss has about four different teams of people just like us. So, if he comes to you and says, ‘that’s not enough firepower, I need you to have a superpower,’ know in your heart of hearts that this’ll be some biblical level shit-storm. The kind us grunts likely won’t be walking away from.”

  “I don’t know. He gave those powers to the two freaks, that slick-haired asshole, and a few others.” The Nose said.

  Serpent Lady scoffed. “Those were test subjects. The latest in a long line of convicts sent to death row. Now that’s he’s perfected the art, and he’s got all these test subjects running loose in the streets, there is no need for more. Plus, do you want to end up like the Twins? Jesus, those guys were twisted before the Boss got his hands on them, but that was on an emotional level. They didn’t even look human when he was done. No thank you. I’ll work for the man, but if he comes offering powers, you best believe you are making a deal with the devil, and that never works out well for you.”