Abandon: The Last Light. (Canto Two)

Canto Two

Something Got Out

Dan and Gemma both awoke to a loud thumping coming from down the hall. He crawled out of bed without hesitation and grabbed his gun from the nightstand. Gemma’s hand went down on top of his.

“The kids,” she said, with a pleading look in her eyes.

He nodded and grabbed for the baseball bat instead. “Stay here.” The electronic clock blinked 12:00. “Power’s out.”

Gemma scooted to the edge of the bed as he opened the door and slid out into the hall. With his chest pounding, he snuck down the hallway until he came to Peter’s room. He cracked the door and peeked in. His oldest was laying on his back, dead asleep with the television on. It was nothing but static.

The next room was Jacob’s, his youngest. The boy was lying in the floor with his leg trapped under his body. Every few seconds, he’d hear a slight snore.

A terrified scream from downstairs pulled him from the room. He rushed to Ann’s room. The door stood wide open. Ann was gone. The room felt wrong. A cool breeze came through the open window, wisping the curtains back and forth. Outside, he could hear the constant barking of the neighbor’s dog.

Dan took the stairs two at a time, gripping the banister. He turned hard on the landing and ran into the kitchen. His daughter was standing there, next to the stove with a large knife in her hand. The blade was at her wrist. He stopped as panic rose in his throat.

She pointed the blade at him. “Stay back! Please.” Her hand was shaking, and there were tears in her eyes.

“Baby, put the knife down,” he said, inching closer. “Gemma! Get down here, now!”

“Daddy, please, don’t come any closer. “ She put the blade's sharp edge back on her wrist. “You don’t understand.”

“Help me understand, baby,” he said, kneeling down. His hand was out, trying to inch close enough to grab his trembling daughter. Gemma came into the kitchen and stopped, her hand covering a gasp.

Tears poured down Ann’s cheeks. “No, no, I can’t.”

Her fingers tightened against the handle as she pointed it at her parents.

“I want to hurt you,” she sobbed.

“Please… just get back.”

Gemma broke down at the sight of her daughter. “No, no, no. Baby, don’t.”

Dan lunged at Ann and grabbed her. The girl’s teeth went into his arm, and he screamed. He was about to take the knife away when her tiny fingers raked across his eyes. He stumbled back, and slipped on the tile. His little girl charged at him, screaming at the top of her lungs.

Dan managed to get her arms before she could drive the knife into his chest. Gemma wrapped both arms around her daughter and pulled her away.

“Stop me, please stop me!” she said, crying. “I can’t help it!”

Gemma tried to get the knife away from her daughter, but it was too late. The blade slid across the little girl’s wrist, opening the vein. Blood shot out, spraying the counters and cabinet. Dan rushed to her, but Ann screamed, and started slicing at anything she could. The blade raked across his forearm, but the wound was superficial.

Dan knocked the knife away from Ann, and grabbed a kitchen towel. He clamped it on his daughter’s wrist as Gemma struggled to restrain her. He dug through the junk drawer and pulled out a roll of duct tape.

“What’s wrong with her?” Gemma asked.

“I don’t know,” Dan snapped, struggling with the tape. “I don’t—God, I don’t know.”

He grabbed the phone off the wall and dialed 911, but the line was dead. He dropped it to the ground and looked for his cell. It was on the kitchen counter attached to the charger. He dialed the numbers again, but the phone wouldn’t call out. It just beeped in his ear a few times and disconnected.

“We gotta get her to the hospital,” Dan said. “Can you hold her while I drive?”

“I can try,” she said, straining against the flailing child.

Dan glanced up and saw Peter and Jacob, standing there in horror.

“Peter, get the car ready!” he yelled. “Jacob, I want you in the back—away from Ann!” They both nodded with large panic-stricken eyes and left, eager to escape the scene before them.

He grabbed Ann’s kicking feet and together, they carried her out of the house while she flailed like a hooked fish.

“Stop it!” she screamed. “Let me go. You don’t understand!”

The car was on and ready to go as they came outside. The headlights were blinding as he passed but he still saw Peter in the front seat, behind the wheel.

“I need you in the back helping Gemma,” Dan said. Peter hesitated as Ann flopped around snapping like an animal at anything near her face. “Now!”

Peter jumped out and opened the back door. Gemma pulled her daughter backwards into the small SUV and held her there while Dan and Peter switched off holding her legs. A stray foot caught the boy in the mouth, bringing blood to his lip.

“I’m sorry!” Ann said, crying. Her blood was already leaking out of the towel. “I’m so sorry.”

Dan jumped in the front seat, put the vehicle in reverse, and took off towards the hospital. Ann screamed and cried in the back, while begging for their forgiveness.

“I’m sorry,” Ann whispered, her voice cracking.

“Tell Mommy... the bad parts got out.”

Omega - Chapter Two: People Like Us (Part 1)

“Yes sweetheart,” Reedy said over his cellphone. “Everything’s under control now, so I should be able to leave in an hour. We can do that thing we were talking about.”

Sitting in his car, Reedy propped the phone between his ear and shoulder. He typed furiously on his laptop, finishing a report for his superiors while his wife chattered in his ear. He was barely listening to her as the alert came over the network. His eyes went wide. “Fuck,” he said.

“Babe, I gotta go. I just got another—Hello? Shit,” he muttered, shifting his car into gear with sirens blaring. “Never fails.”

Reedy pulled up to the parking lot of the Ole Towne Bar, but had to stop in the street.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he said, smacking his hand down on the steering wheel.

The bar beneath the underpass was gone; leveled into a mess of splintered wood and shattered glass. People stood outside with that familiar look of awe, fear, and confusion that he had seen earlier in the day. Pulling up onto the sidewalk, he shifted his car into park and got out. He checked his gun and badge, then walked towards the scene.

“I’m definitely going to need assistance down here,” Reedy said into his walkie.

“Copy that,” came the voice of the dispatcher over the microphone.

“Thank god you’re here,” said a man, storming up to Reedy. “This shit is fucked man. It’s just fucked.”

“Calm down. Tell me, what happened?”

“I don’t know what happened. You’re the cop. Do something!”

“Whoa, sir. Slow down and tell me exactly what happened,” Reedy said, digging through his pocket for a pad and pen. “I can’t help you unless I know what actually happened.”

“Some asshole knocked the goddamned building down! Scariest shit I ever seen!” the man said.

“Please, Mr...” Reedy said, writing on his flip top note pad. He eyed the man up and down and saw the grass stains running up his legs and shirt.

“Siegel… it’s Joe Siegel,” he replied, as Reedy wrote it down.

“Alright, Mr. Siegel. I need more details,” Reedy said, glancing at the wreckage.

“My buddy Jerry and I were playing pool, about to head home, when this guy walked in—naked. Just... naked. Everyone freaked out. Jerry and I, we figured it for a prank, like an internet comedian, but this guy was weirder than that. He was confused and stumbling about, asking for something to drink. The bartender gave him some water while Nancy, the waitress, went in the back to get him a coat or something.”

The man took a deep breath.

“That naked fucker was just staring at the TV the whole time watching the coverage of the explosion today. We tried to ignore him—it’s not our first naked guy in the shop—but then the glasses started shattering all over the place. I turned to look at him—and boom! I was thrown out the goddamn window. Landed right over there,” he said, pointing to a spot on the ground where a pile of wood now laid. “Almost broke my neck.”

“I was getting up when the whole place just... exploded. I swear to God—it was him. Made it happen with his mind or something.”

“How much have you had to drink?” Reedy asked.

“I’m kinda drunk now, but I wasn’t then. After everything went down, we kind of went around scrounging what was left off the ground. But this isn’t like a… drunken vision, or whatever. I saw this shit happen. So did they,” he said, looking over at the other people. The group stood there like you would at a camp fire. Hovering about, waiting for nothing to happen.

Reedy shook his head. “First mutants and monsters, now superpowered nudists? What is happening?”

Omega - Chapter Two: People Like Us (Part 2)

The digital clock read 9:53 a.m., its faint green glow flickering across an empty whiskey bottle lying on its side, half-buried in condom wrappers. The blackout curtains did their job well, blocking the morning sun from entering the small apartment, but a strewn shoe kept them from closing all the way. Its interference allowed enough light in to give the room some slight visibility.

Alpha opened his eyes to the weight of a hangover pressing hard against his skull, pain pulsing behind his eyes and temples. His fingers brushed the mask still strapped to his face. Its tight fit dulled the worst of the pain.

Letting out a groan, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and lay there a moment longer. After mustering the ability to stand, he flicked on the lamp and stumbled into the cramped kitchen. After pouring a glass of water and grabbing a small handful of aspirin, he turned back to the pullout sofa bed, looking at it over the kitchen island.

"Good morning," said a young blonde girl.

She was attractive. Slim, yet curvy in the right places, but he sneered when he saw her. She was draped in his cheap sheets, naked beneath, but showing just enough skin and smiling like a mischievous child.

"Is it?" he asked. He opened his mouth and swallowed the pills, chasing them with a swig of water.

"Oh yeah," she said, sitting up.

She didn't bother to cover herself as she did, and her firm, manmade breasts became exposed. He couldn't divert his eyes from her body, which gave her more reason to show off. Standing up, she approached the counter of the island, swaying her hips in a deliberate fashion. What remained of her pubic hair was a neatly trimmed dark patch.

"I've been hoping you'd call," she said with a coy smile. "I'm glad you did."

"Yeah, me too," Alpha said, grabbing the coffee pot nearby.

"Fuck coffee, let's go again," she said, leaning up against the island.

He poured water into the pot, looked up, and said, "I don't think so."

Her smile faded into a scowl. "You've done such a good job cleaning up this city, what else do you have to do today?"

"I don't have to do anything, I just want you gone so I can take off this damn mask," he said, pouring the coffee in.

“Whatever,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as she turned to gather her clothes.

She paused, "You know—"

"I know exactly what you're going to say," he said. "I've heard it before, just like I've said this before. It's nothing personal; it’s just time for you to leave."

As she dressed, he walked over to the door with a Styrofoam cup, steaming from the hot coffee inside. He tried to hand it to her as she left, but she turned her nose up as she stormed out. Just before she got to the elevator, she spun around and said, "What’s to keep me from coming back? Maybe with reporters?"

"Nothing, except this isn't my place. The owner owes me a few favors, and he's often out of town. I stay here when I please as long as I clean the sheets when I'm done."

"Fuck you!" she said as the elevator dinged. He watched as she got on, pressed the button, and flipped him off as the doors closed.

Shutting the door, he walked back to his own cup of coffee and inhaled its aroma. Popping the clasps on each side of his mask, he slid it off and placed it on the counter. After taking a long sip, he grabbed the television remote and sat in the chair. Turning the set on, he laid his head back.

"Tonight, on The Adventures of Alpha Man and Beta Boy: the two heroes face off against their greatest foe yet—Omega Man," the TV said as a colorful animated program appeared on the screen.

"Great," he said, closing his eyes. He lifted the remote to change the channel, but paused, watching the cartoon.

“What are we gonna do, Alpha?” he said, mouthing the young superhero’s words.

"What choice do we have but to fight this vile villain?" he said, talking over the cartoon version of himself.

This went on until the credits rolled and the program was finished. Still holding the remote, he waited until the station announced its next program before finally turning the channel. Just as he landed on the news, his phone went off.

Picking it up, he groaned when he saw the name Rose appear on the screen.

“Fuck,” he muttered, hitting accept. "I know I'm supposed to come see you this morning, but I've been busy. I'll swing by there soon."

Alpha had to pull his ear away, grimacing as the sound of the police commissioner’s yells broke through the speaker. His hangover was in full force.

"I'll come now," he said. He hit end, jabbing the screen with his finger.

With a groan, he got up and grabbed his mask. Pulling it over his head, he snapped the clasps into place. He scanned the wreckage of the room until he spotted his costume hanging off a lamp in the corner. Letting out a chuckle, he walked over and grabbed it. Stepping into each foot, he pulled it up over his waist and snapped it together. On his way to the sliding glass door, he checked for his stuff, then stepped out into the morning air.

Covering his face with one hand, he blocked the sun’s powerful light while the lenses in his mask adjusted. A moment later, his vision returned, just in time for the headache to come crawling back.

"It’s gonna be a shitty day," he said.

Omega - Chapter Two: People Like Us (Part 3)

As the midday sun crept into the alley he called home, Larry lifted the lid of a large red dumpster and peered inside. It was packed with overstuffed trash bags and broken-down cardboard boxes. He hauled a few bags onto the ground and dug through them. His eyes widened as he sifted through the mess.

"Oh, ho ho," he chuckled, flashing a rotten smile. "Lookie here."

He grinned as he uncovered discarded treasures from the bags. Making two piles, he set the useful items like tattered clothes and trinkets to his right, while putting the trash on his left. Inside, he found a jacket, a pair of hole-ridden pants, worn-out shoes, and a half-eaten sleeve of saltines. He chewed the saltines to mush and swigged from an open bottle of water to wash them down. He pulled out a few more bags, settling down just as a noise came from the alley next door.

He ignored it. Kept digging. Then heard it again. This time, it was unmistakable: the sound of someone groaning in pain. Peeking around the corner, he saw a man lying behind a pile of trash bags.

"You okay?" Larry asked, not moving.

"Water, I need water," came a raspy voice.

Larry couldn't help but notice–the man was as naked as a newborn.

"Please, I need water," he said again.

Larry looked down at the water bottle he held. There was only a sip or two left, so he threw it to the man. The bottle thudded near his head, making him flinch. Once the man saw what the bottle was, he threw the cap away and downed its contents in one gulp.

"Thank you," he said, his voice less raspy than before.

Frowning, Larry turned back and gathered his new treasures. He carried the items back. Dropped them by the man.

"It’s all I've got for ya," he said, looking down at the man, who was lying in his own piss. The stench was strong, but Larry was used to it.

"Thank you," the man said.

"You uh… need a hospital?" Larry asked, leaning over to examine the naked man’s body.

"I don't think so," he replied, sitting up.

“Are you hungry?” Larry asked, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Get dressed, I know a place that might be taking people like us.”

“Oh, thank you. You don’t know how hard it’s been,” the man replied, pulling on the pants.

“Trust me, boy, I do,” Larry replied, turning back to face his new friend. “I’ve been out here for quite some time. What’s ya name, by the way?”

The man paused, mouth open. The words stuck in his throat. He looked up at Larry, meeting his gaze, and said, “I don’t know.”

Abandon: The Last Light (Canto 3)

Canto Three

He sped down the winding road, taking the sharp curves with reckless abandon. His will alone kept the vehicle on the asphalt. His wife and oldest son sat behind him, trying to subdue his daughter as she fought to hurt them anyway she could. Her nails and teeth tried to tear at their skin as her arms and legs struggled against their grip.

Dan dialed 911 again, but the phone was silent. He tossed it into the floorboard.

“Hold her down!” Dan said, looking at Peter in the rearview mirror.

Peter struggled to keep his sister subdued. “I’m trying!”

“Look out!” Jacob screamed from the cargo area of the SUV.

Dan looked back to the road and saw a woman waving her hands. He hit the brakes hard, skidding to a stop. The middle-aged woman was panicked, looking over her shoulder every few seconds as she approached his window.

“Please, you’ve gotta help me,” she said. “My husband…he’s-”

Dan saw blood on her hands and hit the gas, speeding away.

“She needed help,” Gemma said, her voice strained.

“How’s Ann?” he asked, his voice catching in his throat.

“The towel is soaked through,” Gemma said, yelling over the girl’s screams.

He looked at Ann through the mirror again and choked back tears as he spoke. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. You just hold tight, baby. We’re gonna get you to the hospital. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

He felt that knot of emotion catch in his throat again, but he swallowed it down. “The hospital’s only another mile or so. Stay strong, baby.”

They came over the hill into the small suburban town, and horror struck him. Fires lit the night sky as people ran around with gasoline cans, igniting anything they could. On his left, he saw an immolated man, writhing in flames before falling to the ground in agony. Dan rolled up his window to keep out the stench of burnt flesh and the man’s desperate cries.

People ran, screaming in terror, scrambling for safety. Their insane pursuers were only a few feet behind, howling like rabid animals. They held farm tools and other weapons as they chased the helpless, hungry for blood.

Dan was stunned. “Kids, close your eyes.”

Less than fifty feet away, just outside Tom’s hardware store, two women beat a man to death with a pickaxe and shovel. The man tried to protect his face and head, but the blunt objects crushed his hands. All around them, people screamed out in terror while others laughed and sang like deranged children.

“Jesus loves me, this I know...”

Dan threw the vehicle into reverse and spun it around.

Gemma’s eyes went wide. “What are you doing?”

“You see this shit out there? We’ll never make it. I’m taking her to Billy’s.”

“What? Why?”

“He was a medic in the military. He has to help her because there’s no other choice.”

“But that was years ago…”

He shifted into drive. “It’s not up for discussion!”

The back glass shattered as an axe came through it. A sadistic woman reached in to grab his son. She snarled as she clawed at Jacob, trying to get a good grip on the kicking boy. Dan looked her in the eye as he hit the gas, headed back down the road they’d come. She held on for a moment, but her body was pulled out of the window, dragging her exposed flesh across the sharp glass shards. Blood ran down the inside of the hatch and onto the grey carpeted floor.

In the rearview mirror, Dan watched Jacob. The boy just sat there, staring out the window as the woman chased them. The city disappeared behind them as Dan did his best to leave it behind. He looked at his daughter, still fighting, still crying for help. He hit the rearview mirror with his hand, pushing it out of his sight.

Terra Incognita: The Abyss (Re-Explored Edition) – Chapter Six

The Fifth Point

There was no falling. No flying. No floating. Only a breath and – Smack. He hit the cold stone floor of an unfamiliar cave, the book clenched against his chest. The landing knocked the wind from his lungs. He coughed, clutching the book to his chest. When he finally stood, legs shaky, the tome still weighed him down, but it comforted him.

It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the light blaring at him from the torches that illuminated the walls, tight in their sconces. Their shimmer felt off. Everything did. He pressed a hand to his head, checking for damage.

“Well, that sucked.”

Ben stood on shaky legs, still clinging to the book like it might vanish. It had gotten him there. It needed to get him back too.

Ben checked his pockets and found the knife and the medallion. If he had known, he would have brought even more stuff. His dad had swords on the wall downstairs. If only.

He still had the medallion, still had the book—and that meant he still had a job to do. Franklin’s wife was out there. Somewhere in this place. Trapped, like he had been.

The chamber was not a natural cave formation. Someone had taken special care to build the octagonal room with large dark-gray bricks that stood from the floor up. Above him was a vaulted ceiling that was well out of his reach.

Four human statues rested along the edges, each staring at him with a cold gaze that only stone could have.

Upon closer examination, Ben saw that each statue had a different item in its hand—a cup, a sword, a shield, and a torch. Each statue was also aligned to an element of nature.

The man with the cup was knee deep in water, pouring it from his chalice. The stone was moist with condensation.

Adjacent to him was a man with a long sword that pointed toward the sky. His hair and clothing seemed to be windswept.

Next was a woman with a shield and she carried a cloth bag full of sand.

The last, another woman, held a stone torch that lit the chamber.

Each statue had a large unique design carved into the base.

Against the wall behind the statues was a small podium that had a stone book resting on it. It was a stone effigy of the very book Ben held.

He wondered if this was a coincidence or if this was the room that greeted all travelers to this world.

The book itself was opened to a single page that had been etched into the stone. As he opened the book, a sharp breeze hit his face from nowhere.

He turned through the pages until he found the matching image of the one that was before him written in stone. A large pentagram with five symbols marked its points.

Looking back at the statues, he could only surmise that each must have aligned with an element. Five points and only four statues. One was missing.

“What have I gotten myself into?” he asked, closing the book and looking around the chamber.

It took him a while, but after some investigation, he found an entrance that was all but hidden behind another wall. The room created an optical illusion that almost made it impossible to find the escape.

He turned to leave, but something caught his eye. There, around the corner, a person’s boot moved.

“Hello, who’s there?” Ben asked.

As soon as the words left his lips, whoever the booted foot belonged to darted out of the passage.

Ben took off after them, but they were gone.

Outside, breath ragged, Ben found himself in the middle of a dense forest.

Pine trees loomed in every direction, reaching up into a starless sky. To his right, a cliff towered above the trees—and at its summit stood something unbelievable. There, mocking him, was the house he had just left, standing tall and proud.

Before he could question it, something moved in a bush at the corner of his vision.

“Come out! I’ve got a knife!” Ben shouted, fumbling the folded blade with trembling hands.

“Whoa, whoa, okay, I’m sorry,” said a male’s voice.

Out of the shrub came a man wearing dark green cloth pants with black boots and a light red shirt under an obsidian cloak, its hood shaded half his face. Along his belt were many pouches, each contoured to whatever was in them.

“Why did you run?” Ben asked, breathless.

“Didn’t think anyone was in there. Scared the piss outta me,” the man said.

“So, why did you hide?”

“Because I couldn’t outrun you,” he replied, struggling to get up.

The man examined Ben’s jeans and T-shirt and frowned. “Strange clothes for a man.”

“You’re one to talk,” Ben replied.

The hooded man looked surprised by this but didn’t respond. They stood there for a while eye to eye, not saying a word until Ben finally broke the thick silence.

“What’s your name?”

“Miles Strange. Yours?”

He dusted himself off and checked all of his gear.

“That’s… something,” Ben said, barely resisting the obvious joke.

“Yeah, I chose it myself,” he replied, and then fell silent, looking at Ben as if waiting for a response.

“Oh, I’m Ben. Ben Harking. Sorry, I’m not really sure what to make of all of this,” Ben said.

“All of what?” he asked.

Ben shook his head. “Never mind. What were you doing in that cave?” he asked.

He didn’t trust the man. His arms tightened around the book without meaning to, showing just how valuable it was.

“Treasure hunting. Did you find that book there?” Miles asked, stepping closer to examine it.

“No, it’s mine,” Ben spat.

There was a brief moment of silence again before Miles relented and backed off.

“Didn’t look like anything good was left in there anyway. I’m off. Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said, turning his back to Ben and leaving with a simple wave.

Ben stood there, watching as he disappeared without a sound into the forest.

“Wait! Maybe we can travel together?” Ben yelled belatedly, but received no reply.

Ben smirked. “Well… that was strange.”

With the distraction gone, he focused his attention on the matter at hand—getting back up to the house and figuring out what to do next.

Things weren’t the same anymore, which was obvious, but the problem now was getting it all sorted out.

Looking at the book, he decided that it was best not to open it again. He needed to get somewhere safe. He had a feeling that people might want the power it held. Just by seeing the look Miles gave it was enough to tell him this.

Ben stood there for a while, trying to figure out how to get back up to the house. After a few moments of indecision, he got frustrated with himself for stalling and started walking in the direction he was facing.

The forest unsettled him at first, but the moonlit sky lit his way. He expected animals or some sound, anything. But found none. That didn’t disappoint him.

The pine forest was cleaner than he had expected. He walked on a bed of pine straw with little resistance from downed limbs or overgrown brush.

Less than an hour in, his feet were already aching, each step a protest. The house still loomed overhead peering down at him through the trees, but no path led up there.

He sat on a log, thinking about everything that had happened so far. He remembered the fear he felt before he jumped and the pain of the fire against his hand.

Everything he’d endured already started to reshape him. The day’s trials had already begun to reshape him… into something more.

There was no turning back.

Onward, he thought.

Omega - Chapter Three: Below the Surface (Part 1)

"Where the fuck have you been?" Rose snapped, her voice sharp as glass. "I said this morning."

"Look," Alpha said, hands out in surrender, brow tight. "I was busy. OK?"

"I'm the only reason you're not rotting in a cell in that costume," Rose said. "Vigilantism's still illegal, last I checked. You're tolerated because you’ve been useful. Past tense. You got that?"

"Oh yeah, loud and clear," he muttered. "So, why am I here?"

Rose glared over her glasses, green eyes sharp and unreadable. Her auburn hair clung to her pale face like wet threads.

"There was another incident last night," she said, disappointment dulling her voice. She looked out over the skyline. "The mayor wants a press conference. Thinks the people still respond well to you. Four o’clock. Be early."

She fished out a crushed packet of cigarettes. She bit the filter, and brought a lighter to the tip and clicked it.

"Great," he replied, shielding the flame for her. The ember flared as she inhaled. "Is that all?"

"No," she said, blowing smoke.

She picked a shred of tobacco off her lip and flicked it. "There's a new gang. They call themselves the Omegas, after the villain in that stupid cartoon of yours."

"What?" he asked, surprised. "A gang? Don’t tell me someone’s dumb enough to move in on my city.”

"Criminals are stupid," she said, handing him a photo. A teenaged boy mid-deal, hoodie turned just enough to show the white omega symbol on his back.

"I don’t get it," Alpha said, looking up from the photo. "A couple street deals. That’s your department, isn’t it?"

"You need me to explain this to you?" she snapped, yanking the photo back. "They made this gang to spit in your face. It’s a walking, talking ‘fuck you.’” A smile tugged at her mouth.

"That’s becoming popular lately," he said, turning away.

"Don't take it personally," she said. "You're too good at your job. Now they think they don’t need you at all."

"Yeah," he said, kneeling to launch.

"Before you disappear, any leads on this freakshow?" she asked.

He paused mid-air, face grim. "I’m working on it."

"Good," she said. She finished her cigarette alone, watching until he vanished into the smog.

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