I hauled in the drone I had netted. Most of them flew far too high. It had taken a few days to grab one of these low-flying ones looking for a better story. I found holding captives was a giant pain in the ass, so I put in some extra time to get this thing done. I was sick of cleaning up someone else’s shit. They always make kidnapping look so glamorous in the movies. They don’t show you the dirty side.
I stared into the drone camera. “Don’t stop filming. Do you understand? Don’t stop.” I lifted my ski mask. “Do you know who I am? Close and open the shutter on the front if you know who I am.”
The drone’s camera aperture opened and closed in two quick flicks.
“Is this live?”
Two more quick flicks.
“Do you want more followers than you ever had before in your life?”
Two more quick flicks.
"I am throwing a hood over your camera aperture and tightening it down. This is for my protection. Leave your camera on. I’ll take your drone, you just film. You got me?”
Two more quick flicks.
I skulked off into the darkness, with my new camera system in tow.
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I removed the black covering from the aperture when I arrived back at the arcade I now called home.
“This only works one way, okay? Anything deviates from the plan, and I smash this thing and we’re done. Got it?” I said.
Two quick flicks.
“Is it possible to leave the camera on with the gizmos that make this thing fly off?”
Two quick flicks.
“Turn em off.”
Four quick flicks.
“Was that a no?”
Two quick flicks.
“Hank, get the mallet out and bash this fucking thing. We’ll get another.”
The machine tilted a bit and then fell out of the sky. I barely caught it.
“Good choice. Hank grab this thing. You’re Camera One now.”
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“John Brunsen, coming to you live straight from the heart of the greater Kansas City area, location undisclosed of course on account of the fact that I am more or less littered with assassination attempts at this point. Case in point is these three gentlemen here. Hank, show em them our guests.”
Hank pointed the drone/camera at the three gentlemen I had ensnared a few days back. They were bound at the hands and feet in zip ties, and I shoved some ball gags in their mouth. I bound them to each other after that and then bound them to a few heavy objects. I will admit, I was no expert in kidnapping, so I erred on the side of caution and just zip tied more or less everything in the room together but me and Hank. I left them in shorts and t shirts and each of them had a glass vial of black solution taped to their forehead.
“That,” I said, pointing to the vial on the first gentlemen in the line’s head, “is what everyone calls Grey Plague. It has other names. Some you know, and some you don’t. I think you all know what it does. Let me show you a few things you might not know.”
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I walked behind the gentlemen and pulled out his ball gag.
“Talk.”
“My name is Ryan Gomes, I am a retired Marine Corp Sergeant, I work for Bioimmunomilimeditechitronics as an independent security contractor. I was hired to apprehend the criminal John Brunsen. I have a wife and child. Her name is Lacey and my daughter’s name is…” Boom boom boom. I emptied Sargent Gomes’ chest against the floor in front of him with the .45 I had taken from my back pocket.
"Thank you Sarge. Now I think that everyone can agree that Sarge here is a goner. Let me show you something cool.”
I used my gloved hand to smash the vial on this head. The Samskara solution in the vial dripped down his forehead harmlessly. Nothing happened.
“Something neat I learned, for whatever reason, Grey Plague doesn’t work on dead people? Why? I don’t know. I am a terrorist and not a scientist. But in contrast…”
I removed the ball gag from the second gentlemen in the line.
“Talk.”
“Fuck you Brunsen, I got nothing to…”
I used my gloved hand to smash the vial taped to his forehead. He shivered twice and then the melting happened. Hank started vomiting, so I grabbed my new camera/drone and stuck it right on the scene.
“Anyone doubting this? Anyone confused about what is happening? Anyone need clarification? Didn’t think so. Our special effects time is off this week folks. This is just good old fashioned murder. Time for the last little bit of our experiment.”
I removed the last ball gag.
“Talk.”
The man looked at me and spit in my face. Good enough. I didn’t really need him to say something, I just needed to make sure everyone knew he was alive.
I handed the camera back to Hank and gave him a look that said ‘stop fucking up and keep the camera on me’. I drug a small knife across my forehead. A trickle of blood ran down it, just enough to make sure everyone could see it was a real cut. I was trying to be tough, be cool, but actually I wanted to say ouch cause it hurt. “Wanna see something cool?”
I headbutted the guy in front of me. The vial didn’t shatter so I did it again and again. My vision turned dark as the Samskara solution fell into my eyes. I stared into the camera. I heard the last guy start to melt, smelled his skin dissolving, heard his bowels release. I went and stole the camera from Hank. I set down next to the melting corpse and threw my arm around his shoulder or what was once his shoulder. Blood and Samskara dripped down the front of my face. His body just dripped. I held my face next to the now melting corpse and stuck the camera straight on us, close and tight, so the audience could see it.
I thought about Roddy Piper cutting wrestling promos in the 80s. I thought about Bruce Richardson selling the lyrics to Iron Maiden songs. I tried to be Sylvester Stallone telling people to “be fucked” in Demolition Man. I did my best to emulate it. To be something I really wasn’t, but maybe had to be. Had to become. Camera picture tight on my face next to the smoldering corpse of the man beside me, voice full of gravel, my own blood blinding me, I said “You’re asking yourself, how come it doesn’t hurt him? How come he just did that? They’re gonna tell you it’s all just movie magic. They’re gonna tell you,” I took a second to smear the black and red mixture across the front of the camera lens. “They’re gonna tell you that ain’t real. You don’t need to listen to them, cause that ain’t the question you need to answer. The only thing you need to do is ask yourself, how did that make you feel?”
I threw the cloth back over the aperture.
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I was releasing my capture back into the wild. I had covered the shutter again and took the drone a couple miles from where I was staying. Walking around in the dark was a pain in the ass. You were constantly tripping on things. Shining a light on yourself at this hour was suicide though.
I removed the veil and pointed the camera at my face.
"You can choose to follow me if you want, but if I see any blinking lights, I will blast them. I’m doing this as a favor and because I want the word to spread. Don’t fuck me over on this.”
The little drone sputtered into the sky and off the opposite direction. I was guessing the recording was far more valuable to whoever had made it than anything they could get by following me around.
Hank was still with me. He hadn’t said much.
“John, can I ask you a question.”
“Shoot Hank.”
“Is that really what we are going to be doing here?”
“You said you wanted to help Hank.”
“But what’s the point?” Hank said.
“I don’t know man. I really don’t. I am just buying time until I figure it out. We have to do…something.”
“I…I’ve never hurt anyone and I just didn’t… You were so calloused. You didn’t care. Those were people John. That man had a family, and they are crying over their lost husband, their lost father right now. I can hear their tears in my head. I spent this whole walk thinking about how his wife or his brother is going to have to eulogize him. And I think, for why John? Why’d you do that? Why’d you kill that man? Why did I take part in this? But that isn’t the bad part. That isn’t why I’m worried.”
“Why are you worried Hank.”
“Because of what you said.”
“What did I say?”
“John, it made me feel alive.”