Nathan shook with the effort to control his anger. His top lip curled and bared his teeth. He left the circle and Logue said, “Remember in order for us to help, you need to keep a low profile. No more solo acts and we’ll get through this just fine.”
Nathan stopped at the doorway. His left hand splintered the doorjamb. He left without looking back.
39
He watched them huddled together. Their heads bent and their hands stuffed in the pockets of filthy coats. A mixture of odours wafted in his direction. The ripe smell of the unwashed blended with the pungent aroma of their scraps cooking over the open fire. Beneath it all, Blur savored the stench of fear.
It’s all over them.
Blur stood invisible to them. He vibrated at such a speed, he could hardly be said to be in any one place at any one time. His eyes burned with a voracious hunger and missed nothing.
“I think it should be good,” one of the displaced said, pointing at the encrusted pot burbling over a fire in a trash can.
Another said, “Don’t be hasty, George. Stew takes time.”
George rolled his eyes and adjusted his coat. “Excuse me, Dad. While you try for perfection, I’m starving here.”
“Relax, George.” Blur’s focus slid to a woman stooped over the fire. “Your father’s not after perfection, but it’d be nice if it was warm.”
George brushed her aside. “Oh, come on, Mom. Dad always does this with his stew. He still thinks he’s cooking in the goddamn restaurant.”
“George!” His father hollered. “Watch your language.”
Blur raced around the burning barrel. Flames caught in his wake rose above the lip of the canister and threatened to burn stray hands. He watched the layers of clothing pull against them. Just another stiff breeze.
“Where are you going, George?” His father asked.
“For a walk,” George hollered over his shoulder, “Can’t eat, not gonna stand around and freeze.”
“Don’t be silly, son. It won’t be long now.”
“You shouldn’t go on your own.” His mother took a step away from the fire. “You know it isn’t safe.”
Blur smirked.
George whirled on them. “As if it’s safe here.”
“We’re safer together,” she said.
“Tell that to my friends in Bennington Place,” George said, “Oh, that’s right, you can’t because their dead. All of them together. Maybe we’re less of a target alone.”
“You don’t mean that,” his father said.
George ran his fingers through his unkempt hair. He kicked at garbage under his feet and said, “No, I don’t. Just goddamn hungry.”
“And scared,” his father said, “We’re all scared. Least together though, we can watch each other’s backs.”
Blur watched George move back to the group. He slowed his vibrations enough to appear amongst them. Their eyes widened and their mouths opened but never formed words. Blur hummed and sprinted through their ranks.
He lifted George into the air and collided with his father, sending him against a steel pillar. His body bent an unnatural way and fell broken to the ground. The barrel toppled and flames licked at the trash strewn about the loading dock.
George fell onto the concrete and the crack of bone widened Blur’s grin. He gripped the woman by the throat and showed her the face of her nightmares. Blur punched his fist through her stomach and shook the gore from his hand before she could collapse to the ground. Her cries died out fast.
George attempted to crawl away, but his broken leg kept him in place. Blur raced around him, his speed cloaking him from sight. He circled closer and used the whirlwind he created to lift George off the ground. In mid-air, Blur grabbed his head and twisted it around.
He lingered in the space between breaths and left before George took his last.
40
Maria licked the marinara from her finger and smiled over at Nathan. “Perfect.”
Uncomfortable in his own kitchen, Nathan said, “You didn’t have to go to all this bother.”
Maria dipped the wooden spoon in the pot on the stove and brought it over to Nathan seated at the table. She held her other hand beneath it to catch any wayward drips. “Taste this and tell me it isn’t worth a little bother.”
Nathan looked at the spoon a moment and then raised his gaze to her smiling face. He opened his mouth, and she set the spoon on his tongue. Flavor exploded on his taste buds. He closed his eyes and swallowed.
“What did I tell you?”
He opened his eyes and smiled at Maria. “Delicious,” he said, “best marinara I’ve ever tasted. What’s your secret?”
Maria wagged a finger at him and returned her attention to the stove. “Old family recipe—only one way I’ll tell you.”
Nathan stiffened in his seat and noticed Maria’s shoulders tense. He stood and moved to the cabinet. Changing the subject, he said, “At least let me set the table for this feast.”
She shook her head and shooed him away. “I won’t have my hero setting his own place. Go and relax.”
Nathan’s mood darkened. He reached for his beer and took a drink. Pulling a chair out he collapsed into it, a frown on his face.
Maria placed plates and cutlery on the table. She set a long stem glass by her plate and Nathan wondered where it came from. The pot of spaghetti rested in the center of the table, and Maria dished out a generous serving to him. She smiled and sat across the table.
Nathan returned her smile. “Looks good enough to eat,” he said.
“Doesn’t it though?”
Nathan paused with the beer bottle inches from his lips. His gaze drifted to Maria’s left where Quinn sat staring at him.
“Is something wrong?” Maria asked.
Nathan licked his dry lips and set down his beer. Looking at Maria, he ignored Quinn, lifted his knife and fork and said, “Nothing. Let’s dig in.”
“You know I always liked spaghetti,” Quinn said, “Such comfort food. This one’s a keeper, Nate. Think you can keep her without being honest with her, though?”
Nathan forked a huge mouthful of spaghetti into his mouth and chewed hunched over his plate. He glanced up at Maria and gleaned his bad manners from her expression. Setting his fork down, he sat back and swallowed.
“Hungry?” Maria said.
“Famished,” Nathan answered. One eye slid to look at Quinn smiling unseen beside her. “This is good.”
Quinn groaned. “God, you always were the worst at small talk. How have you kept her this long?”
Nathan ground his teeth together.
“So how was your day?” Maria asked and took a bite of her own meal.
“Yes, how was your day?” Quinn said, “Tell us all about it.”
Nathan glowered at the spot next to Maria. She turned her head slightly to look then returned her expectant gaze to Nathan.
Lifting his beer, Nathan took another gulp and answered, “Not much to tell.”
“Oh, come on,” Quinn said, “nothing at all new? Don’t be modest. Share with her all the heroic things you’ve done.”
Maria took another bite. “How are you coping with everything?” Nathan stared at her, silent as the grave. “It’s just,” she continued, “I mean, you’ve suffered a loss. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Oh, that is rich.” Quinn chuckled. “A loss. You really have this one snowed, Nate.”
Nathan stood, and his chair clattered backward against the cupboards. He watched Maria flinch and tempered his tone. “I’m fine. I’ll let you know if I’m not.”
She looked down at her plate, and Nathan walked to the refrigerator for another beer. Behind him, he heard her ask, “What about your enemies? The other night you mentioned they were trying to pin your partner’s death on you.”
“Is that what they’re trying to do, Nate?” Quinn stood on the other side of the fridge door while Nathan bent inside.
Nathan too
k a deep breath. He reached for another beer and banged the door shut. His eyes burned with hatred. Quinn only smiled in return. Nathan turned back to Maria and softened his features. “It’s under control. I told you, don’t worry about it.”
“It’s so unfair, is all,” Maria said, “Why do the bad people have to tear down the good. You’re a hero, Nate. You deserve better treatment.”
Nathan slammed the beer down on the table beside her elbow. Maria jumped. A little cry escaped her lips. Nathan breathed heavy and sweat dotted his forehead. “I’m not a hero.” He walked a few steps away and said, “Stop calling me a hero.”
He watched Quinn sitting on the counter, his feet dangling care free above the floor. Closing his eyes, Nathan turned back to look at Maria. A mask of hurt and anger twisted her features into something unrecognizable.
Nathan exhaled and moved to comfort her. She raised a palm to stop him. “Don’t.”
“I’m sorry,” Nathan apologized.
She stood and left the kitchen. Nathan followed her to the front door. “Please don’t leave, Maria. I’m sorry for the way I acted.”
She spun around to face him. “Answer me one question. Honestly.” Nathan gave a small nod and Maria asked, “Why do you hate yourself so much?”
“Good question,” Quinn said from behind Nathan, “Often wondered that myself. Yes sir, Nate, she’s a keeper.”
Nathan wanted to answer. More than anything, he wanted to be honest with her. The words choked him, though, and never made it past his lips.
Maria shook her head. “It can’t all be because of …” she indicated his left side, “… what they did to you. They saved your life. So they didn’t do it the way you wanted? They still did it. Or is it because you didn’t stop the explosion in the first place?”
Nathan remained silent and Maria pressed her point. “What is it? Tell me why?”
She left without an answer.
“Wow. That was impressive.” Quinn chuckled. “Rare I witness such charm. Tell me, how did you get her to date you at all?”
Nathan rubbed his eyes and stalked down the hallway. “Fuck off, Quinn.” He left him in the foyer and saw him seated at the table when he entered the kitchen.
“I’m curious though,” Quinn said, “Why do you hate yourself so much? Is it the guilt?”
Nathan leaned over the counter. His arms quaked from the pressure. Eyes closed, he struggled with a mounting headache. He reached over to a cabinet and withdrew a pill bottle. Running the tap, he popped three pills followed by a sip of water. Once swallowed, he turned to the room and met Quinn’s smug expression. “I’m not talking to you. You’re not here—you’re not real.”
Quinn’s smile broadened. “Like to believe that wouldn’t you?” He made an annoying buzzer sound and said, “Sorry, wrong answer, Nate. I’m as real as you are.”
Nathan’s face twisted with rage. He grabbed a glass from the counter and hurled it at Quinn. It missed and shattered against the far wall. “Get out of my fucking head!” A wave of vertigo swept over Nathan. He clutched his head and closed his eyes against the spinning sensation.
Quinn appeared next to him and whispered in his ear. “That any way to treat a friend?”
Nathan roared and lurched forward. He grabbed the table and upended it. Dishes and food went everywhere. The crash echoed in the quiet room. Nathan whirled on Quinn, a lone plate rattling behind him. “We’re not friends.”
Quinn’s smile vanished. He stepped toward the fridge and said, “No, I guess we aren’t. Not after what you’ve done. Go ahead, Nate, say it. Say what you did.”
Nathan’s chest heaved. He wiped his brow with his hand and kept his venomous gaze on Quinn. “What about what you did? You betrayed me. I defended you to Logue and Vargas and Eli. I vouched for you in front of Semple. You not only made a fool of me, you’ve risked my life.”
Quinn stared blank faced at him. Nathan spat. “I have no guilt over what I did. Can you say the same?”
A loud sigh passed Quinn’s lips. He turned away and rooted through the fridge. “If that were true, I wouldn’t be here.”
Nathan took a step toward him, and Quinn materialized right in front of his nose. He tapped Nathan between the eyes. “I’m living rent free right here. You pulled the trigger, you live with the consequences.”
Nathan lunged for Quinn’s throat. He fell forward against the open fridge. Scanning the room, he saw no trace of Quinn. He’s gone. The kitchen was a mess, and his head throbbed. Ignoring the mess, Nathan grabbed a bottle and stumbled from the room.
He collapsed on his sofa and eyed the Viz shades. It’s time I got back to work. He reached out and made a call.
41
“Can you turn it up, please?”
The barista made no acknowledgement. Alexis couldn’t be sure if her request had been heard or just ignored. She raised her eyebrows at her but received no response. Alexis strained to hear the newscast over the raucous morning crowd in Jitter’s Coffeehouse. Moving closer to the HoloSphere projection, she tilted her ear toward the image and listened to the clipped tone of the news anchor.
“A spokesman for Identchip confirmed yesterday that the company suffered a data breach last week. An internal investigation has revealed the breach centered on location tracking data. In a press release, the company assured the public none of their more sensitive data was affected, and those individuals affected by the breach would be contacted. Police continue to investigate.”
Alexis turned from the newscast. Suspicion clouded her thoughts and pinched her brow. Who would risk hacking into the secure Identchip network? Would Miller try something so bold? She shuddered and heard the barista call over the din. “Alexis. One vanilla latte.”
Alexis retrieved her cup from the counter and turned to leave. Her eyes settled on a familiar face standing in her way. She sighed and took a cautious sip.
“Can we talk?” Elise asked, “Please?”
Alexis stepped around her and said, “How does it work, Elise? I don’t answer your calls so you wait to ambush me at the coffeehouse?”
Elise shrugged. “You wouldn’t answer my calls. What else could I do?”
“You could take the hint.”
Elise reached for her hand and Alexis recoiled. Slowly, Elise withdrew her hand. She looked around and said, “We need to talk.”
Alexis sipped her latte. “No, you need to talk. I said all I needed to already.”
“Please, Lexi.” Elise pleaded, “all I ask is five minutes.”
Alexis noticed the dark circles under her eyes and her skin’s pale complexion. She recognized the longing in Elise’s plea and relented. “Five minutes,” she said and led her out of line toward a stand up table. “You don’t look well. All night gambling session?”
Elise unslung the bag from her shoulder—the bag Alexis gave her two birthdays ago—and set it on the table. “I’ve actually stopped gambling. Not that it’s helped my sleeping any.”
Alexis noted the tear running down Elise’s cheek. A moment later, Elise wiped it away. Alexis took another sip and set down her cup. In a friendlier tone, she asked, “You’re not sleeping?”
Elise looked to the floor and admitted, “It’s been hard.”
“Can I help?”
Elise took a deep breath and said, “I want to come back.” Alexis shook her head and picked up her cup. She took one step, and Elise moved to block her. “Hear me out. Please.”
Alexis stepped back to the table and waited.
“This was always more than a job for me,” Elise said, “I betrayed your trust, and I’m so sorry for what happened. I’m sorry I hurt you. It hurts me though, how easily you believe the worst of me. You have to know, I never intended for anyone to get hurt.”
“Your intentions aside, your actions caused irreparable harm.”
“I know that.” Elise wiped her hand across her eyes. “I have to live with what happened the rest of my life. Believe me, I do
n’t need you to remind me. I need you to help me make it right.”
“Make it right?” Alexis glanced around the room to see if anyone was paying them any attention. She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “How are you going to make it right, Elise? Leo is dead. He’s dead because I trusted you. We both have to live with that.”
“Then don’t make it for nothing.” Elise straightened her back and lifted her chin. “Let me help you finish what we started. You can’t do it alone. If you want to free this city from the Cabal’s grip, you’re going to need my help.”
Alexis turned her cup between her fingers but said nothing.
“Please, Lexi. You know I’m right about this.”
Alexis shifted her gaze back to the HoloSphere projection. The news anchor’s voice joined the cacophony of other voices in the room and was lost. An image of a fetus made her turn away.
“All right, but it can’t be like before. You work for me. If you want friendship or trust, you’ll need to earn them.”
Elise agreed, “I understand. I’m in. Thank you, Lexi. I promise you won’t regret this.”
Alexis nodded. She took another sip of her latte and said, “If you’re in, then let’s get started. How long would you need to borrow one of Sky Network’s drones?”
“Not long. What’s up?”
Alexis answered, “I have a meeting later that I want surveillance on. Grab the bird, I’ll send you the when and where once you have it.”
Elise pressed her lips together in a thin line. She asked, “Who are you meeting with?”
Alexis slid the tip of her tongue out the side of her mouth and cocked an eyebrow. “Nathan Miller.” She relished the slack-jawed gape Elise gave her. “He wants to talk.”
42
Steel wheels whistled on railway tracks. Alexis endured the deafening roar from her perch above Shenandoah Ave and continued her stroll across the pedestrian walkway over the railroad.
Her destination loomed ahead. She watched the circular building. Four arms jutted out of it like spokes on a bicycle wheel. The parking lot next to the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial housed a sparse four cars.
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