Moonrise CH45 – Neon Camouflage

[1100 words – Prompts: Inspiration Monday, Terrible Minds, #3WW, Sunday Scribblings 2, The Writing Reader, #SoCS]

The American flag pin came off his lapel and he left it on the glass table. It wasn’t needed anymore. He loosened his tie with his hands in his pockets. The elevator took him down to the truer world he inhabited, the right one in the making. Two months ago, Globe had entertained the idea of killing Doctor Lee, or having one of his lackeys do it. But, he had to consider the lost data, the fatal error that cost him a setback had been accounted for, courtesy of Lee. The progress was still slower and Globe wished that he had Joaquin in a glass jar too. He was not fully satisfied with the progress but content enough. A super the “Nightprowlers” had brought after one of their raids was a close enough match to the existing assets to boost the system, add to the flow. The children comatose on their beds in their blue room were finally resonating on the level Globe needed them to, harvesting the DNA within their cells with Lee extrapolating it, adding it to the batch. A piece of Bree or so Globe hoped. He would know soon enough, the first trials had already begun. Little butterflies they were hatching pure data in beautiful colors. Globe chuckled. Who knew supers had colors running inside of them? Sindi made sure they stayed colorful on the news too.

Globe busied his lower lip staring up at Kristoff in his glass casket. The power juice would do wonders Kristoff would never see and if he fell asleep thinking he was superior, Globe was half sorry he wouldn’t wake up to a world controlled by Gods and Goddesses greater than him. Globe smiled at the notion of allowing Kristof to behold the divine.

Someone, however, was stealing his toys from him, hindering much needed experiments. Bree was full of riddles about that, riddles that chilled his nights and invaded his dreams. She told him she went to play with the kids from the blue room. The exploration of that dream world was a much wanted side task for him. Globe had to wonder what other dreams she barged into. One thing at a time, he had to remind himself.

Playtime was over. Globe returned to the elevator his mind full of promises and threats. Whoever was whisking away supers from him was soon going to find themselves in a deep, dark hole. Tonight, however, was all about appearances; he was about to go wine and dine with the rich and powerful, charming them into submission. Tomorrow he would play his part. He would go watch Miles Jensen take the needle, a seal to his conquest against supers. It felt good to be mayor.

* * *

The frame in his house, a proud young man with a shiny badge was a frame lodged into his skull, a constant blur in his tired vision. He was jealous of the face in the picture and the face was disappointed in him; the past judging the present. What he saw in the rear-view didn’t fit his vision of the past.

Massey shifted in the driver’s seat of the van catching the moment when the sky turned to night just in the blink of an eye, masking all intents. The presence of a gun but the lack of a badge weighted on him more than he wanted to admit. Anne had pointed out the benefits of his job departure; he wouldn’t have to worry about crossing lines anymore, overstepping the law but Massey knew those lines and boundaries were vigorously etched in his head, they were the same ones that had prevented him from aiming a gun at Anne after the stunt she had pulled at some black site dragging in Denisha, threatening her life. Denisha… he hadn’t seen her in months, the very thought of her working under Globe’s wing made him sick, angry, mad, and devastated. He would get her out of there when this was all over. Despite it all he was thankful to Anne for securing his freedom out of that dark cell. How she’d convinced Globe he wasn’t worth the trouble was beyond him. He didn’t ask. He assumed that for Anne, it was just another day as a spy.

In the rearview mirror he caught the movement of the fugitives as they approached. Only four this time. With Andy and his people relocated, the SuperHub lost people every month. A lot of people. Massey shook his head; he tried to stay positive. They had saved a lot too, took them far away from Globe – new identities, new lives. Memorized, the path appeared before him. He shivered as he remembered the dampness of the tunnels. After the signal, the rapid tap, he started the van. He scanned the road ahead, never underestimating the reach of Jacob Globe.

* * *

Anne swirled the scotch in her glass and listened to the approaching footsteps on marble tile. She took a sip and rested the glass on her lips a bit longer to feel the burn when the liquid touched the lipstick covered softness of her lips. The smirk was all her own, the burner silent now, but she spoke just moments ago with Massey. Another batch on the way, she thought. They’d travel through dark streets, shadows in nobody’s town and into the tunnels, old railroads abandoned to prophetic and obscene graffiti, guarded by the blind and the lost. A tunnel leading to a watery salvation far away from Globe’s clutches.

Globe’s voice dragged like a rusted knife across her back drawing invisible lines where his hands didn’t dare to hover or touch. “Anne, dearest you’re accompanying me to the party, are you not? It’s a strong political PR for the newly elected Mayor to be seen in the presence of such a lovely woman. Speculations and the like, make the headlines after all.”

Anne turned to face him and his flat joke. Denisha hovered in the background and was a polite canvas conveying much – worry and stoicism, her father labeled a traitor, her employer raised nearly to a king. So many emotions on such a young face. Maybe she wanted to go with Globe, be his lady of the night. Maybe she wanted to stab that letter opener in his neck. The smirk foolishly still played on Anne’s red lips. She exchanged glances with Silas, the new favorite trailing forever like a shadow, while taking Globe’s arm, cold to the touch. The light didn’t reach Silas’s eyes. Anne’s taut smile retreated. Her ruby red lips were like neon camouflage. She had to be more careful.

Next: Headstrong

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About Mark Gardner

Mark Gardner lives in northern Arizona with his wife, three children and a pair of spoiled dogs. Mark holds a degrees in Computer Systems and Applications and Applied Human Behavior. View all posts by Mark Gardner

3 responses to “Moonrise CH45 – Neon Camouflage

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