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49. Rocket Man

49. Rocket Man

My night in the hotel was easily the most comfortable and luxurious I've ever had. They had offered me the "King suite". But the standard alone was more luxury than what I'm usually comfortable with.

The bed was softer than any I had ever laid on before. The shower had hotter water and higher pressure. I've never felt so clean in my life. The shame of it is. I'm too focused on the case to have really enjoyed it.

I've made no further progress. Still at a dead end, with no leads. But today I have a plan. I would like to find Burt. But I'm not sure I can fully trust him yet. And don't want to have to try and get away from him after meeting up. So I'll look for him later.

First thing I do is find a news stand and get the morning paper. It'll serve me two purposes. The first is simple. Find a nice little cafe. Get a coffee and read the paper.

I quickly scan the whole paper for any mention of Frank and his coffee cart. But there's nothing written about it in here. My second pass through I take the time to actually read through the paper. Looking for any crime articles or anything that could be related.

Instead I just find fluff pieces. A biography on the Mayor. Streets closed for parades. Traffic at a standstill. Elevators getting stuck. A lot of things that really shouldn't be considered news. I know enough from Germaine's warning. These types of delays in their daily life are incredibly common for MPs.

I keep reading and find a second biography on the Mayor. Strangely this is not the same person as the first biography. I start to wonder how many mayors this town has at this point. And if they all share an office.

Finishing up the paper, having gained very little insight into the way things work around here. I look at the time. eleven o'clock, perfect. It's time for my newspapers second purpose.

I head back into the underground and board the subway. Taking it to the station we had gotten off at, when going to the police station. Once there, I cross the platform and wait another ten minutes. Exactly on time. The subway screams to a stop.

I count the cars, and do my best to make sure I board the same one as yesterday. I subtly try and glance around without making it obvious. I don't think anyone notices. A few familiar faces confirm I'm in the right car.

Getting on at the same stop, at the same time. Two days in a row. Seems to have normalized me in their routines faster than I'd have expected. As no one is staring at me this time. No one except for one man.

The man I had come to see. Again holding his paper in front of himself, slightly lowered so he can watch me. He is the only one in the car dressed differently than he was yesterday. I walk over and take the seat next to him. Raising my paper up, to shield my face.

"You're back."

The man whispers.

Not knowing how long until the mans stop. I get straight to the point.

"I have to ask you a few questions."

I say.

"What's this about?"

A hint of suspicion in his voice.

"I'm in town investigating a string of deaths."

The mans eyebrows raise. I continue.

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"I'm sure you know murder, even accidental death, just doesn't normally happen between MPs."

"So you think the MPs are killing survivors again?"

He asks.

"No, it's the MPs that are dying. And I'm trying to figure out who's doing it and why."

"Do you think it's a survivor living out some twisted fantasy killing the MPs?"

"I don't know yet. I just wanted to ask if you've seen anything of interest lately. I personally saw a cat explode, killing a man and his coffee cart yesterday. But there was nothing in the news about it. And all the bystanders carried on like normal. I've gone to the cops and they were no help. The newspaper doesn't say anything either. So I figure the only option left is talking to other survivors."

"I understand. I actually did see something yesterday. And just like you said everyone else just continued on like nothing had happened. I don't know the full story. But I was walking by a cafe yesterday. There was a smashed piano if front, a pool of blood coming out from under it."

The man continues on to give me the name of the cafe and the address.

"Thank you, I'll go there and ask some questions. Hopefully there will be other survivors there. Otherwise I doubt I'll be able to find out much."

"Ask if they have security cameras."

The man suggests. I nod to acknowledge the suggestion. Then continue on with my questions.

"I've noticed a lot of uninteresting, low glamour jobs are still being filled. I don't understand what kind of MP would end up working those jobs. I've kept myself pretty removed from society. So I don't know for sure. But I thought that maybe the bugs are still multiplying. Making new people to fill these rolls. You've been here longer, does that make sense to you?

I don't mention Manbug yet. I'm still not entirely sure I believe what I saw last night.

"It does. I've been here since the beginning. I've spent my whole life here. And as soon as all the zombies stopped and the MPs started. The city was in chaos. There was nearly no one driving the taxis or cleaning the sewers. It was a serious mess. After about a year we started seeing more taxis on the road. A few months after that total gridlock. Suddenly the stores all had food on the shelves again. And the dumpsters were being emptied. The population kept increasing. Like I've said before. The city runs on clock work. It's easy to spot the new people. And sure, the first month there was a lot of migration. But after that it plateaued. Then it started to grow again. See that man over there in the hard hat and orange vest."

He nods his head in the mans direction.

"He's only been here a week. There's no way he's a regular MP. They tend to picked a job. Get into a routine and stick with it. Not move after five years. And I'm not sure yet. But I swear I've seen a dozen other men that look just like him. It could just be him really getting around town. But I find that harder to believe than duplicates."

"Couldn't he just be another Survivor?"

I ask.

"He could. But a lot of us survivors use our jobs to live out fantasies. Like myself. I use to be a low level accountant at a publishing house. Now I act as CEO. That's when I first started to suspect the bugs were making new people. At first it was just me working there. Fielding calls all day from authors. Seems like every other MP is an author. I use to joke about how lazy writers write about writers. But I guess it really connected with the audience. Anyways, it was just me. Then suddenly I came in one day and I had a secretary. A few days after that I had more employees. Before long the whole office was full. And best of all, they all work for free."

"Do you get paid?"

"No. I could pay myself if I wanted to but there's never any need for money."

"So why do you do it?"

"Without work I'd lose my mind. And Like I said. We all do it. If all the MPs are living out their dreams. Why can't us survivors have our dream jobs too? I mean, isn't that exactly what you're doing? Playing detective, trying to solve crimes."

His excuse is easier than any lie I could come up with. And I don't want to reveal the truth. So I stick with it.

"Yeah, I guess it is."

I say.

"Listen, my stop is coming up. There's a group of other survivors I meet up with twice a week. They're a bit wary of new members. Seems when all this started a fair number of survivors had a hard time adjusting. And kind of went off the deep end. Anyways, let me talk to them. See if they'd be open to meeting with you. Maybe help get to the bottom of your case. Meet me back on here in three days."

Just as his sentence finished the doors chimed open and he was gone. I get off at the next stop.

I'm going to try and find Burt before I go to that cafe. But there's one more thing I want to do first.