Tcr 31) Dig two graves

At the model store, I pulled up to the back door and began hauling in the crates which I was planning on using for shelving down in the base after removing the armor and then the foam inserts. Which the Mice immediately began to take an interest in.

Bill had closed up the shop and carried the smaller crate with the helmet in it down the two flights of steps. "Damn Mr. Mortan, what do you got in there?"

I took the crate from him, "A helmet, it weighs in at twenty eight pounds."

He blinked at that.

I jerked my head over at the inserts. “I think the Mice are going to want to buy a hot wire knife for cutting that foam, and they will pay you to cut it up into smaller pieces for them. They will probably also pay to use the three-dee printer to set up a rack to hold the hot knife for them so they can do the finer work on their own.”

Bill had at least temporarily been made a support member of Team Royal under the name Baron Gatekeeper since he had to know about the base below the store he was working in. He had stammered his way through his acceptance of the name while trying to maintain eye contact with Shimmer in her skin tight suit.

After locking the place up for the night I headed home and split the bread from the cafeteria between the chickens, the Murder Geese, and the Crows.

The Crows managed to get some of the chicken's share of the bread by being faster than them, and from the geese as well from me standing on top of the cement feed container and whipping the stale bread I had balled up in my fists as far as I could throw it.

Chester got the last two slices.

The fresher fruit bagels were already gone by the time I got back from the stable with Scorn walking back from from her trailer where she had stashed the goods.

She nodded at me. “Saw the pictures. You might want to put some lifts in your boots.”

I pressed my hand over my heart and gave her a hurt look, getting a thin little smile in return.

The next day in therapy me and the Doc talked about how I tended to be a little brutal on people even after they were done fighting. And how it might be a problem with Shimmer’s hope for a happy shining American all star super dream team.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Of course, he had to reverse Uno me and we started talking about why I was angry with criminals. He didn't point out to me so much as to lead me into the realization it was people with powers who were reckless with them and murderers that set me off the most.

“Like Captain Gains. Got it Doc… I’d like to stop talking now.”

We called it an early afternoon.

Scorn nodded at me as I got home but she was busy saddling up Chester to give him some exercise, and I have to assume she knew I was in a mood since she stayed out late.

I poured myself a shot of the brandy my Grandmother had bottled to start to age shortly after my birth.

“I would like to know where Captain Gains is now.”

There was some squeaking from the ceiling above me that sounded like the mice were on the job. The ones at my home whose research would not immediately be noticed by the Circle.

Scorn settled Chester in for the night, and stood outside for a while before texting me a message saying she was heading out to her cave for the weekend. It was probably best. I wasn’t feeling up for much company at the moment.

Shimmer called the team together the next day. “I’ve spoken to each of you, and everyone is on board to go national as a Super team." She looked around the room as each of them gave the others a nod.

She turned to the wall that we had covered with a layer of smart paint, and an image of a man in Power dampening cuffs with gray skin under his orange jumpsuit, a bald head, and solid white eyes stared back.

"This Adam Roth. Coaltrain. He was one of the prisoners who escaped with Shrike but then seemed to have cut loose from them. Pal spotted images of him in a club in Miami along with a man called Falco, a Quick 2 and possibly a Genius 1 who considers himself an elite bank robber, even though he mainly relies on a Rank 3 or better Brute to force open the vault doors.”

Falco appeared to be a sketchy looking guy with sunglasses, a gold chain, and his shoulder length blond hair slicked down with something.

Shimmer gestured to go back a few screens back to Coaltrain. "We're not that skilled as investigators, and I don't want anyone to be seen suited up in Miami. It wouldn't be too hard for him to figure out why we would be there.”

Fable looked at the rest of us, then spoke up. “Is this about revenge? Because I’m all for it.”

Our leader smiled and nodded. “Yes, it is about revenge. But he’s also a wanted man. Someone should go after him, and he may know something about where Shrike and her family are operating out of. Or at least where the other escaped prisoners headed out to.”

Shimmer nodded at Fable. "Can you find him?"

Fable touched her fingertip to her lips. “Maybe. I might have a better chance doing from it in Miami, but I can try.”

Her outfit, a bright yellow pullover over violet yoga pants, seemed to stretch and change colors, as well as fabrics until she was wearing a traditional fortune teller’s outfit.

Still in yellow and violet of course.

On the table before her, there was now a brass stand with a clear ball that warped the light that passed through it until I could see most of the room, including the area behind me through the ball.

The teen began rotating her hands over the ball, not quite touching it as she murmured under her voice.

Manifest leaned back, “She gets embarrassed about saying the words, but she still has to say them for it to work.” T-Rex nudged him in the ribs and gave him a dirty look.

The ball seemed to fill up with overlapping planes of transparent light, sort of like Shimmer when she cut loose. Through some of the panes, I could see images of sailboats, streets lined with palm trees, and a man with white glowing eyes sitting on the edge of a bed in a dimly lit room drawing a puff on a cigarette that lit up his face well enough to recognize Coaltrain.

Shimmer gasped lightly, and her eyes narrowed as she spoke in a carefully controlled cold voice. “So we can confirm he’s in Miami.”

I stood up from the table. “I think we need to have a talk. Just the two people who got killed by someone who never paid for it.”