by Mark Gardner
“I don’t get it,” Joaquin protested.
“I sent my people, my network out and they track down strange activity throughout the city. They film it, take pictures, hack into hospitals, and…no offense, police departments…to find out information on the super. I even have you in the system. Here, look.”
Andy brought up Joaquin’s profile.
“Whoa, man. This is some crazy stalker shit.”
“You have an impervious skin, yeah?”
“You know it! I’m invisible!”
“Invincible you mean?” Andy quirked an eyebrow.
“Same shit, man.”
“What do you gain from all that?” Massey interjected.
“We want the world to know there are heroes out there, people that don’t even know how special they are. We share some of these videos through social media to try and prepare people for what’s coming.”
A chat message popped up on screen.
‘SerpentMuse: Sean, you gotta watch this man, this shit is bad.’
Andy clicked the message and responded.
‘xXiSkillXx: What is it?’
‘SerpentMuse: Just play it! NOW!’
Andy clicked on the shared link. It was a broadcast from Q-13 running with the message, “EXCLUSIVE” and then another message, “SUPERHUMANS AMONG US: ARE THEY A THREAT?”
“This is live,” Massey noted.
Dr. Jacob Globe’s face appeared on the screen. He took the podium wearing a serious mask and went silent a few seconds before addressing the audience. His modulated voice reached all attending.
“My friends, as the days go by, and the mayoral elections are soon to decide the fate of this city and our society, I find it difficult to withstand the truth about what’s happening in the very city we all seek to protect and better. Over the last month, we’ve worked on our collective and individual problems and have sought solutions for these problems.” Globe enunciated with his hands, open palms in a sign of peace and trust. “We’ve spoken much about the people of this city who make it a place I’m proud to work hard for, individuals who are heroes. But today is not about such people. Today is not about tolerance. Today is not about forgiveness, nor compassion, nor love. Today is about a war that is happening in this city.” His words rang honeyed to Massey but the faces picked by the camera showed the rising dependence on Globe.
“I have spent many hours in blind fear of the truth, but now I say—no more. I say so because what man makes a promise to protect his people, but fears to do so and cowers instead? I will not be that man, and I will not hide the danger that has arisen above us from you any longer. In these crucial days, I want to be honest with you and speak with clarity, with eyes wide open.”
Dr. Globe’s speech continued over approving applause from the crowd. The powerful cheer made Massey’s hand holding the coffee cup shake.
“You’ve seen and read news about people with extraordinary abilities. Self-proclaimed vigilantes others have deemed as ‘supers’. We have all witnessed even with our own eyes such incredible phenomena, but we’ve neglected a truth beyond the astonishment, and that truth is that those people are what is poisoning this city!” Globe’s face grew hotter by the minute, spittle flying past the microphone, but Massey was sure the crowd registered that as a passionate response. Wide-eyed, the major found eager faces staring from the crowd and dominated them, pointing at them, the common folk recognized as victims by him. He spread his arms open wide accepting all their troubles in his embrace, challenging any threat. And as such he stood above them, towering, casting shadows they couldn’t see. His voice didn’t waver but grew in volume and strength as he continued his preaching. “They’re murderers, crooks, thieves, rapists, sociopaths who by some folly of nature exhibit extraordinary capabilities; capabilities which soon will weigh upon us with their terrifying power. I will not let that happen and let these people turn the good citizens into pawns who fear to tread the streets!”
Globe’s eyes sparkled with ill intention, with some deep fury and fake righteousness. But for the common viewer, he was a brave man, a hero. Andy bit his lip knowing how this speech would arouse the public in his support.
Stupid lemmings, Andy thought while Globe’s voice drummed from the screen.
“The politicians in our city have kept vital information away from you. They’ve corrupted the media and showed you ,false excitement about these ‘supers’. Today I show you their real face.”
The screen split in two, and the top half showed clips of supers destroying cars, trashing stores, throwing people in the air, breaking the street with their fists, spitting acid while terrified people screamed, running. The videos showed the fear Andy was trying to eradicate. Even worse, they showed the supers no one had been able to film—the underground ones.
The bad ones.
“I’ve been working on a cure for these people for many years, but alas, I’ve found nothing. I ask for your forgiveness for keeping my work, my failure, from you for this long. Again today, I ask even more of you. With a heavy hand on my heart, I urge you all to step with me into this battle and fight to keep our streets safe, our homes, our children from these monsters. Thank you all, my fellow citizens. My friends.
Massey cringed at the word “friends”. In his mind’s eye he saw the faces of the friends he could lose in this growing war. The truth of that made him both angry and scared.
Queen of Ash
The broadcast featuring Globe's gruff face ended, and an anchorman with shaking hands visibly gulped, cleared his throat and tried to explain what the viewers had just witnessed.
“I..." Andy stuttered, "I don’t believe this. Why would he want to expose them like that?”
“So everyone has a reason to kill them now,” Massey replied and turned to Joaquin with concern on his face.
Joaquin frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “That pussy ass motherfucker better not cramp up my hero chances.”
“We can take down Globe and prevent a war, a massacre, from happening, but we just might need someone like you Andy.”
That’s it pal, take the poisonous apple, take a big bite. This is all you’ve ever wanted.
A smile played on Andy’s lips. “Alright, I’m in.”
Massey’s phone rang. This time, he checked the caller ID, but it was blocked.
“Hello?” he asked tentatively.
A feminine voice replied, “Why hello there, Detective Massey. I hope you have one more place on that vigilante team of yours.”
Massey gripped the phone tighter. “Anne.” The derision in his voice was palpable.
Joaquin reached for the phone, but Massey pushed his hands back and made a shushing motion with his eyes and free hand. He returned his attention to his cellphone. “What do you want?”
Her voice was seductive even through the line. Massey could hear the smile in her voice, the playful murder lips, curling into a grin.
“Same as you: to take down Globe.”
Anne inched away from the cover the public phone booth gave her, peering to see the park across the street for a sign of distress. She marveled that such a staple of the world was slowly dying. This particular phone booth didn't even have a telephone handset. The coiled aluminum had several colorful wires dangling from one end. When she received a "play date" invitation from Bree via cell phone, Anne knew she had to comply. Globe was furious at her return and Bree's request, but he was on his way to deliver his coup de grâce in the form of a well-rehearsed speech.
She’d told Massey what she needed to and now waited for Massey’s startled silence to produce a word. On the side of the booth, someone had written “Gordo’s public restroom here” with an arrow specifying the ground upon which Anne stood. She stepped lightly, her heels sticking to the greasy concrete. The phone was warm against her ear, but then Massey spoke, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“What are you playing at? You work for him.”
“I do, but that doesn’t stop me from hating the
bastard. He has me under his thumb—or so he thinks. I’m looking for a way to even the odds and clear him off the chess board.”
“But you need help?”
Anne noted the chuckle in Massey’s voice and could even picture him shaking his head and looking over his shoulder for Joaquin.
“I need your help, and Joaquin’s. There’s something else, too.”
“What is it?”
She glanced again and quickly spotted Bree skipping to a free swing, her pink dress a sharp contrast to all the other children’s clothes.
That’s not the only difference between Bree and the other kids, Anne thought. She waved at the girl, and the little devil waved back, smiling without her eyes doing the same. Anne wondered when Bree had lost the ability to enjoy simple things like playing in the park. Bree cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted:
“Anne, come and swing me!”
“In a minute, princess,” Anne called back, giving Bree her warmest, biggest smile. That didn’t work its charm on Bree.
“A minute is too long, Aunty Anne! Come. Now.”
“What the hell’s happening? Who you talkin’ to?” Massey sounded worried, and Anne sighed. Maybe he thought this was a trap or some trick to play them by.
“Listen Massey... Globe has been working on something, but he isn’t shedding light on it with me. I don’t think he trusts me enough for this, which is odd considering our history. I'm surprised he cut me loose. But it’s something bad, and it has to do with all of the supers in the city. We need to talk, face-to-face.”
“Shit. So that speech on TV was real talk, not just some publicity stunt?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. Let me talk to Joaquin for a moment.”
There was a shuffling noise, and muffled voices, then Joaquin’s heavy breathing replaced Massey’s.
“Whatchu want with me, lady?”
“Hello, Joaquin. Miss me?”
“Hell no!”
Anne allowed herself a chuckle.
“Joaquin, do you remember our talk about lineages, about the super gene?”
“Yeah. How the defects fucked us up and all that ancient shit.”
“I need you to be careful in these times Joaquin, no more shady stuff and bullshitting because the defects are—”
“AUNTY ANNE! SWING!”
Anne nearly dropped the phone, flinching at the penetrative squeaky voice of the girl. She pointed toward the phone in hopes Bree would acknowledge important grown-up things.
“I’ll contact you again. Tell Massey to keep the phone close.”
“Anne, hold up—”
“Can’t talk more. Wait for my call.”
It was risky talking to Massey right away, but with Globe, Anne knew that tomorrow would be too late. Everything she’d fought to protect for decades was crumbling before her eyes, slipping like ashes between her fingers. But she didn’t want to be queen of these ashes. Globe though... He wanted to be king and play in the ashes before rebuilding Hell on top of them.
Anne bent the prepaid cell phone, snapping the large hinge. She squeezed the remnants into pieces, crunching the display and sim card between her palms. Then, she heard screams. They sounded playful at first, so she continued to destroy the phone.
But then the playground screams transformed into shrieks.
She looked up. The phone pieces slipped from her hands, and she numbly crossed the street, ignoring the beeping horns and squealing tires.
Anne ignored the profanity showered upon her by angry drivers. Ahead, a cluster of people on the playground formed a wall with their bodies. She pushed through mothers clutching their children and covering their eyes while tears shimmered in their bulging sockets. They weren’t running, but how could they? It was hard to avert your eyes from the extraordinary—especially when it was also forcing you to stay. It was not a matter of will.
Bree had her playthings, and they did as she commanded.
Anne stared at them. Frozen. Flailing. Fragile. Her heart raced with the same adrenaline she got the infinitesimal moment before she died, and when she was reborn. Her brain latched onto that moment as if it knew something was amiss and tried to protect her psyche. More than one super had suggested that that bit of consciousness, that moment of understanding, was what made Anne who she was. They bandied about words like insane, and crazy, but they couldn't possibly understand that singular moment in time. In that moment, she understood the nature of life itself.
Bree wasn’t letting any of the bystanders go anywhere. Eyes wide, they could only stand and watch the horror show. They were the testament to Bree's power.
Anne escaped the paralyzed circle and stood in the middle of it, surveying the scene.
A little boy had his hand wrapped around one of Bree’s carefully braided ponytails, seemingly trying to yank it down. Bree insisted that Anne painstakingly style her hair before they left Globe's compound. Anne wanted to be away from Globe as soon as she could, but Bree…insisted. The boy's left foot was set firmly in the gravel, his right leg bent at the knee; just at the moment he’d been running past Bree with his innocent childish prank in mind.
Anne knelt at a safe distance, her awe of the little girl slamming her bravado to nothing yet again, as it always did when Bree was angry, or Bree was upset, or Bree didn’t like something. Anne cursed at herself for dismissing any of Bree’s wishes. She spoke softly but Anne knew, in a moment, she would have to listen and obey the child. If only she could appeal to Bree’s humanity before it was too late.
“Bree, honey, what happened?”
“He tried to take kitty from me. No one treats Puss like that.”
Bree’s eyes darted to somewhere behind Anne. Anne turned to see the stuffed kitten lying on its side, dirtier than it had ever been. It was a pitiful sight, ready to upset any child. But Bree was no ordinary child. Anne shivered as she remembered the flock of birds writhing on the ground at the cabin in the woods—their eyes burned away; beaks open in a wordless chorus.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt Puss, Bree. How about you let him go, and we can take care of kitty together.”
Bree shook her head in defiance. She reached with her thin arm and peeled the boy’s fingers from her hair, freeing her disheveled ponytail. The boy’s fingers bent as if made from clay. His face was heavily distorted, eyes wide, mouth caught in a howl with his jaw seemingly unhinged.
His existence was being questioned by Bree’s power: his past, present and future visible in painful grimaces. They were colliding to grind his bones to dust.
Anne hadn’t witnessed anything like this before—but then again she wasn’t aware of the depth of the girl’s power. She tread carefully when dealing directly with Princess Bree.
Anne slowly reached for her phone in the pocket of her sporty red dress and dialed up Globe’s task force. If Bree was allowing her to do that, Anne was clear of her danger for now. But all of these people would have to have their short-term memories modified to prevent any further incidents today. She’d already had enough on her plate with Globe starting a war, and now this.
“A lot of people are watching, honey. We wouldn’t want them to think ill of us, would we, little princess?”
Bree’s brow furrowed. “Why not?”
Anne opened and closed her mouth, lost for words. If this went out of hand as quickly as it appeared to be going, there was no sniper to fire a bullet at Bree, and Anne knew she was too weak to stand up to the little girl.
Anne spoke slowly when she said, “Because princesses are good, and that’s why everyone loves them so much.”
“Doctor Globe says I’m special, and all the people in the city will know that soon.”
Anne forced a smile. “That is true. You are a very, very special girl, but I’m sure Major Globe didn’t mean—”
“Murder?” Bree interrupted, looking Anne dead in the eye. One minute Bree was a little—albeit, crazy—girl; and the next she was older than Anne, smarter than Globe.
Shit, shit,
shit this is bad, Anne thought. She offered her outstretched hand to the little girl.
“Come on now Bree, let's not upset Doctor Globe.”
“Oh, he won’t be angry,” Bree finally said and walked around Anne to pick up the stuffed kitten. Then with some regained cheerfulness she explained:
“He’s watching. So I think Puss and me shouldn’t wait to show people this and that. We should do it now!” Bree’s laughter was devoid of the naïve, childish tone that Anne yearned for. “Maybe you shouldn’t be watching this Aunty Anne. I don’t want to upset you.” Bree stroked the head of her stuffed kitten.
Suddenly Anne’s vision blurred rapidly to pitch black darkness. She remained still, waiting for her power to resurrect her, but rebirth never came.
I’m not dead. I’m blind.
Bree manipulated Anne’s sight to stare into the endless abyss instead of the municipal playground in the middle of a city that wasn't prepared for what it would witness in a just a few moments. That temporary sight limitation, however, didn’t spare her from hearing the screams.
“You can open your eyes now, Aunty Anne.”
Anne did what she was told. Doing anything else when Bree requested was not wise. Anne’s eyes cleared from the consuming darkness and a faint bluish light shone against them, making her squint. It wasn’t as difficult as she’d imagined it, regaining her sight from velvety black to the vibrant light of day. It felt like nothing more than the blink of an eye. Perhaps it was, Anne thought.
Bree stood in front of her, her hands clasped behind her back and a pristine pink ballerina shoe dug in the dirt while she waited for Anne to compose herself.
The pair stood outside the circle of outstretched limbs and silent children. Anne’s gaze was locked on the asymmetry that the frozen people represented, motionless in their agony, pain and shock written on their contorted faces. Anne slowly approached the tangled forms of Bree’s victims, jaw slack. She steadied herself to find solid ground, and solid evidence that Bree had annihilated these people without so much as a thought. Had she actually murdered them all? Why did Bree freeze them first? Bree did this before at Major Globe’s compound, but had to touch her parents to make them her playthings. The scope of this was unlike anything Anne had ever seen. On instinct, Anne reached out to take Bree’s hand.