THE PRISM

by
Joe Nevarez
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 2

Paco
It was always raining, always wet, and always loud in zone 89, so loud, he couldnt hear his own
foot falls above the white noise of the rain, the psychic white noise, he thought coldly. They used
it to dampen his abilities. His coat shielded him from the wet but it didnt stop him from feeling
wet. He looked up, the view was heartbreakingly dismal. Rows upon rows of small apartments
creeping out of the ground, one following the other. A failed human attempt of a honeycomb
structure found in nature. Squares chasing each other, corkscrewing up to the surface. From the
bottom, the sky looked hazy and confusing, like looking out the wrong end of a telescope. It was
dark blue and the stars beyond were blocked out, not only by distance but right now also by the
muddy smog colored clouds covering the night. To the East just over the horizon, lay the sun
which seemed not to want to dedicate itself to the small abandoned planet. The zone had no
rotation, which meant the stars moved but the sun didnt. When The Company stumbled onto it,
the bottom half had been completely torn apart by either its sister planet or it had been struck by
one hell of an asteroid, but it had been rich in metals so terraforming and mining had begun. The
Company had come in with huge ships that bore holes in the remaining surface. The civilization,
worked as miners and lived below to avoid surface radiation. Once the mining was over, the
workers and their families, some 200 people were left to die. Centuries passed before The
Company returned to clear out the dead, and set up the quasi-prison, where Paco and the others
called home.
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 3

When he arrived, The Company had immediately put him in charge, making him warden and
prisoner, a peacekeeper of the zone. He had been convicted of violating his service term, but
because of his high rank, he was sentenced to run Zone 89. When he wasnt making the rounds
at the prison, he was on Company missions, usually only lasting a few weeks. Hed start his
rounds at the bottom, working his way up, but today he stood in the middle of the abandoned
courtyard, where the constant rain had worn the earth to stone. He flipped back the hood of his
nano suit, ignoring the alarms and let the rain fall on his skin. In that second, Paco felt alive, felt
himself. Then the pain from the toxins instantly began to sting and burn causing him to send his
nano suit a signal. Trillions of unseen nano ants went to work cleaning the air around his face
and secreting bacteria that ate away the dead skin, replacing it with new healthy growth. Paco
glanced around, opening his mind, making the prisoners aware of his presence. Then he let it
run, it showed him the shadow of activity in the last 48 hours, the ghost of smoke. Nothing, all
clear, all in order. He stretched, noting that the inmates were hiding their minds from him. He
never let this bother him before, and he wouldnt now. Paco had other things on his mind, my
pills. He took one last look around, his mind illuminating the whole of 89. Then folded time
space and made the jump to his apartment.
The door to the apartment opened on his small grey kitchen. On the far end of the room was his
dingy mattress, laying on the floor. Between him and the coffee table was his sagging couch, his
sea of books left only a narrow path from the table, to the couch, to the bed and the small
bathroom beyond. The bathroom light was left on, it was routine. Steam rose off of him in a
heated mist as the nano suit rid itself of any excess water. He shed himself from the coat and
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 4

walked towards the shower, the pills never leaving his mind. It was the first thing he had seen
after the jump and the sight of them gave his heart a flutter of relief. He forced himself to
shower and read for an hour before taking the pills, but his eyes kept darting back to his pillow
where the two little red pills sat triumphantly waiting for him. When he finally picked them up,
he asked them to yield their secrets. Paco imagined he could feel the nano encapsulated under the
pills thin red skin. He opened his mouth, placed the pills between his teeth and bit down
breaking free the tiny spiders enclosed. They moved like a red mist into his brain, millions of
spider legs ran past the roof of his mouth tickling their way into his nasal passages, through his
eyes climbing around his brain, biting away the thin membrane and burrowing into his mind,
searching for the right memories.
He lay in his prison cell bed, eyes bulging, mouth open in an O of ecstasy. The memory this
time, was that of a man he had been thousands of years ago, or more. He now found himself on
a comfortable bed, his wife reading to their youngest son. His other two children who shared
their one bedroom, reading their own books, looking over to him from time to time, eyes full of
love and hope. His wife smiled when he looked at her. Im loved here, he thought. The love
around the room was almost deafening, crashing on him like a wave. He glanced around
spotting the hand me down clothing, the overdue haircuts, and overdue bills, but still felt happy.
He was swept up in their love for him and his for them. The moment, felt frozen in time for
what seemed to last days. He opened his eyes again and he was laying on his dingy mattress,
then the sickness hit like it always had. He had just enough time to make it to the toilet. A
stream of red spiders came pouring out of his mouth into the bowl. They ran from his nose and
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 5

leaked out of his eyes. He tried to hold on to the bliss of love, but it faded away with the nano.
The sound of the rain crashed back into his world. He wished he could make it stop. He laid his
head on the cool tile and slept. He was woken up by a blinding white light of pain that shot
across his mind like a comet. He sat up, fists at each side of his head. The pain passed, and
Hopkins face engulfed his mind. Good morning old boy! Were needed, you look like hell.
See you up top in, lets say two hours? Paco could see the cold outline of space where Hopkins
had been. He had no idea how long hed been out.
He ate before going top side, then asked his nano suit to get combat ready. Millions of tiny
invisible ants began to taste his DNA, brainwave recognition software uploaded and identified
him before coating his body. Hopkins entered his mind early, taking a run at Pacos psyche,
probing for intelligence. A second later, Pacos nano warned him of the intruder. What the?
Paco hid the question in his mind, and pushed Hopkins out. He made the jump to the surface,
where Hopkins was anticipating his arrival. This place is a real shit hole! Hopkins laughed
and glanced over to Paco, who was staring at the zone. To him it looked like The Company had
drilled in a giant screw, had taken it back out placing apartments within the ridges. Paco nodded
and faced Hopkins, who was wearing his brown leather nano suit, his bald head not reflecting the
night sky. Whats up? Paco asked, weary of Hopkins feeble attempt to read his mind as well
as his early arrival. Hasnt been two hours yet. I wanted to talk. Hopkins answered. Paco
followed Hopkins as he made his way towards the wall. He didnt want to be the one to break
the silence, so he concentrated on hiding his mind from Hopkins. As they walked, white and
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 6

violet lights flashed across the sky, making their shadows flicker and dance, they looked like two
priests standing over a battlefield.
Hopkins thoughts suddenly filled Pacos mind, thoughts of killing, thoughts of war and famine,
dirty swears, and dead fish. He looked at his companion who looked back at him with a small
nod, and they kept walking. Paco didnt want to drown in those thoughts, and when he fought
back, he heard a small voice laced within the insanity, it was Hopkins, but not. Hopkins had
found a way to send a hidden message. I didnt think Id get in...I know a way out. Paco
kicked Hopkins out with a shout from his mind. Hopkins was a company man through and
through, and knowing this made Paco uneasy about continuing a conversation especially one that
was about a way out. They remained quiet until they were within visual distance of the wall.
Only Company men, with perfect and powerful minds could make the jump in and out of the
zone from the wall. For the prisoners it was just another show of Company dominance and a
reminder of where Pacos mind would eventually end up. The wall was a radiating neon blue
mass of energy, stretching out from horizon to horizon. Its clear squat bricks encased the brain
matter of the dead, insane, the fallen soldiers and used prisoners. During the still night, it would
pulsate faintly. A loud crash of thunder rolled to them from distance, when it hit the wall, the
jump door opened. A small dim portal was visible. As they drew near, Paco could feel the
pulling force from the wall. He could hear the thousands of enslaved souls, and smell its hunger,
a smell the nano couldnt keep out because the smell was in his mind. Paco closed his eyes and
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 7

made the jump. He blinked and the nano suit had already filtered the harmful UV light. The
sounds of birds singing, not rain caught his attention. Sweet smells of weeds, rich dirt, and of a
growing living earth pleased him. He walked a half step behind Hopkins, content to let the other
man take the lead. Hopkins was letting the suit walk for him, entrusting it more than Paco
thought he should. How could he trust a man who relied on technology that way? They made
their way towards headquarters, following crystal clear cobblestone. The rays from the sun made
the path seem opaque, but Paco could still see all the way down to the earth below. Lining the
road were small groups of 50 or 60 stems tightly packed, swaying in the breeze, giving the
illusion of trees. Paco thought he saw a single tree stop and attempt to read his thoughts. He
would have to be more on guard with his mind when he got to the inner rooms of the temple.
The temple was Greek, adhering to the law of the golden ratio, filled with pillars and golden
rectangles. They hurried up the steps passing through the library, a shortcut leading to the Great
Hall. The library interior was always kept dim, and Paco hoped hed catch a glimpse of one of
the librarians, he slowed down his stride to have a better chance. He saw her immediately with
her head down working, caught between an old lamp with a green shade and a stack of books.
She was beautiful, blond, sexy, and as antique as the books surrounding them. She was straight
out of every movie he had seen as a younger man. The librarian was universal, sexy and hard to
get. Her clothes changed with the passing fads, but the ponytail, bangs, the open shirt, and
cleavage always stayed the same. She got up, and when she passed him, he turned and saw it, a
bulbous mass of skull protruding like a cancerous deformity, extending out and down from the
back of her head. Strands of her blond hair thinned out near the mass. At the base of this
deformity was a small leather harness cradling the extra cranial space, keeping weight off her
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 8

neck. He could see the veins pulsing in time with her heart. He looked away in disgust and
instantly wished he had seen her only head on, or one of the other librarians. There was the
sweaty fat man with the big nose who always licked his lips and muttered to himself, or the
skinny man, who puffed out foul smelling smoke out of a hookah. Like the blond, they never
looked up from their writing. He figured they were hard at work rewriting history, keeping up
the lie. Their rendition of books ended up on reading lists for schools, and libraries everywhere.
Hopkins had once told him that they worked on the quantum level, changing history in real time.
Exiting the library, into the great hall Paco saw the small man sitting on the far end of the room.
Whos this guy? he thought to himself. No one to fuck with was shot right back into his
thoughts. His voice sounded like the low rumble of an elephant, hollow like rocks thrown down a
mountainside, at the end of it was a high pitch, like some tortured sea animal struggling out of
polluted waters. Paco realized that the man wasnt speaking into his mind but rather moving the
air and he could feel the small bones of his inner ear wanting to shatter. The man did this instead
of establishing a two way connection. Paco knew the trick and anticipated it, and had rearranged
his memories swiftly. This was a small point of pride for him, to have a power that was
unknown to them. But it did nothing for the pain in his ears and he almost cried out. Here are
your orders the man gurgled out. A picture of a small prism was burned into Pacos mind, it
was sitting on a kitchen windowsill and the light coming into it from the setting sun sent tiny
rainbows into the empty sink. This was the first time he had been asked to use his dream
training. Even stranger, it was an object from his own dreams that they wanted, an object he had
never seen before. He hid his thoughts of doubt and curiosity. When you find it Ill know and
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 9

Ill want it. When the strange man, who wore a tight powder blue suit complete with matching
bowtie, had finished his sentence, and the afterglow of the prism was etched onto his mind, Paco
heard the sound of the mans withdrawal from his psyche. A sound like water being sucked up a
long pipe, an empty sound. The man didnt break his gaze with Paco as he spoke to Hopkins,
Pacos eyes were dragged away only when his friend slumped to the floor in wordless pain. His
eyes were bleeding profusely and the nano bots were hard at work clearing them. Paco
instinctively wiped his hand across his own eyes, no blood. The man had gone. After a moment
Hopkins rose and turned away from Paco rushing out, every now and then looking back over his
shoulder like a scared rabbit. He looked at Paco one last time mouthing, they knew then made
the jump. Paco walked away stopping to look back himself. At the door of the great temple,
against a pillar, looking right back at him was the man. They stared at each other for a brief
time, and just when Paco was losing his appetite for the game, the man turned around and
walked back inside.
Paco made the jump back to his place, unlatched his suit, and showered. He rested on his
mattress, thinking hard. why my dreams? He closed his eyes and watched the stream of thought
flow from his mind. A radiant smile crossed his lips, and the flow of his thought manifested
itself into a creek, flowing up and away from his head, disobeying all laws of gravity. Then he
imagined a small leaf standing on the bridge of his nose, brown and fragile. His eyes followed
the leaf as it rose to meet the creek. A draft of wind blew behind his head and he was now the
leaf, looking down at his physical body. His feet and legs began to flutter followed by the rest of
his body. He was carried off by the wind into the creek where very ripple of water, was a
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 10

different outcome and future. He thought hard on the prism, and the deliberation on it, widened
the creek into a fast moving river. He attempted to navigate its flow of possibility but it soon
became too large to maneuver, it widened alarmingly fast and he felt himself go under. No
longer the leaf, he used his arms to get himself above water and quit the farce. He realized that
he wasnt going to accomplish anything, not without my pills. He slept. After, he lifted himself
from his bed, and donned his nano suit. He contemplated making the rounds from his room,
letting his minds eye do the work for him. Nope, management by walking around is The
Company way. Landing on the hard ground outside of the compound, Paco looked up to see
something he had never seen within the zone. A small man standing erect, a tall pole in one
hand, and with the other, pointing off into the distance. The man could not be seen with bio
eyes. The Shaman? Paco followed the mans pointing finger, towards the never changing
horizon of the setting sun. Nothing was there. He sensed the man fading, and started walking
over to the spot where the shaman had been standing. He had gone. Everyone leaves something
behind, some sort of personal energy. Paco needed confirmation. He closed his eyes and listened
to the rain falling. After he patrolled using his minds eye and when he was sure he was alone, he
picked a tiny drop of rain and held it firmly in his mind. He imagined the atoms within the drop,
and sent them spinning. Faster and faster, the friction causing heat, the heat causing
transformation. When he opened his eyes the rain above him stopped, and he was surrounded by
steam. He felt satisfied. The Shamans multicolored aura, equal parts of red, black, blue and
white was still swirling within the confined space where his body had been. He tried to hold
onto the aura and chase it with his mind, but the cosmic winds, pulled it away and the rain
returned. With his mind racing, he composed himself to head back. Be at ease. Paco knew this
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 11

was not the time to question, or investigate any further. He finished his rounds before making
the jump back, eagerly expecting the two tiny red gifts from The Company on his counter. He
popped back into his room, shook off his coat and kicked on the heater. Sitting on the kitchen
counter were the pills. The shaman or the prism? Paco poured himself a drink, grabbed the pills
and walked to his chair. Without hesitation, he took the pills and thought only of the shaman.
Theyll know. His body sank into the chairs soft leather, and he felt the pills working. They
seemed to feel heavier on him, his sense of control was not there. The pills had never acted this
way before. He was falling into memory at a frightening speed. He reached out with his mind,
searching for anything familiar, but kept falling, deeper and deeper. The panic of drowning,
made him realize that he should just give himself over to the sensations, not to fight where the
pills wanted to take him. He took a breath and went the course. Images began to flash in his
mind, freeways, concrete, and graffiti everywhere. Then a deserted four lane street, cold night
air, feelings of overwhelming evil and malice, fear and loss. Loss of what? The place felt full of
juvenile stupidity. Thats when Paco sensed someone elses thoughts surfacing within his mind.

Toms
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 12

Paco fell into unknown memory, he felt the heat of the sun and his world brightened all at once.
Finally stopped falling. He squinted his eyes against the glare and found himself standing in the
middle of a huge, half empty parking lot being pulled across its vastness to a deserted part of
fencing. On the other side of the fence, Paco could see a roller coaster. White and as big as a
mountain, the size of it dominated his view. He had never seen one this massive, and he let his
eyes follow the progression of the tracks, where a small set of cars lined up. Following the cars
from its zenith to its depths, his eyes led him to five young teenage boys standing in the shadow
of the coaster, they were bending a portion of the fence backwards, squeezing their way through
into the park. They all were dressed alike, blue-black Levis, and creased white cotton shirts.
For some reason, Paco didnt want them to see him, but he couldnt stop his forward momentum.
He could feel fear building, and the need to run. They caught sight of him. Six brown eyes, full
of bad intent all directed his way. He knew them from school, and on many occasions, Toms
had run from these boys. Sometimes he had been caught, with kicks, punches, and shouts of
white boy, pussy, ringing in his ears. Paco in all his long years had been called everything, but
never white. Paco searched the boys mind, attempting to make a connection, but realized that
this was his own mind. When did I live this life? Paco was certain that the teen had no idea there
was another version of himself, sharing his mind at that moment. Why dont I remember this
conscious? He felt the teens fear and adrenaline kick in, and with it a flood of memories came
crashing in. The first memories arrived hitting Paco strongly. One after the other, these
memories were his and they crashed in with force. It was confusing, disorienting, and he could
still hear the teen moving about in real time, unaware of any problems engaging in the middle of
his mind.
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 13

Its the first day of school, and he finds himself standing alone and dumbstruck that his mom had
lied to him. Ill take you all the way. She had said. He watched her drive away, smiling and
waving goodbye. Tears slid down the sides of his face, unable to be stopped by will alone. He
made the long walk into the schools ugly brown gates, before his face had dried. An adult is
calling him Toms Gonzalez? a thin white woman wearing a loose fitting grey dress
approaches him. Her nostrils flaring from the bottom of her bony nose. Toms Gonzalez?
She doesnt give him a chance to answer, only grabs his shoulder, her nails digging into skin.
Its a prelude to the rest of his day, and the memories incite an anger. He walks alongside the
woman down a hallway, into the jaws of a beast that will torment him for all his school life. Too
many other emotions bleed through for Paco to get a sense of the kids true feelings of the day.
Hes walked into a room already overflowing with children, and is directed to sit. He squeezes
down, holding his legs with his arms as to not touch the two kids that hes being sandwiched
between. He recognizes the boy next to him, he has short curly hair combed back in waves. Its
a boy hes seen around his home. Their eyes meet, and the boys are filled with venom and
madness. Dont be touching me and wrinkling my shit okay! Toms hugs his legs tighter,
saying nothing, his limbs become immediately uncomfortable and wishes he could do something
to relieve the growing tension in them. The minutes pass slowly until the boy sitting in front of
them turns around. Whats up Frankie? the kid next to him is saying. This boy in the row in
front of them is confident, with a dominance that seizes the surrounding children. Mean ol
white boy huh? the kid he thinks he knows says, then throws a punch to Toms leg. The shock
of the punch is more painful than the blow itself, and both boys smirk at each other. Frankie
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 14

finally speaks asking Toms the question he will come to loathe. You a white boy or what?
Toms has a new understanding why hes been hit and is relieved to know the answer, its so
simple and true. No, Im not white. There is no reaction on either of the boys faces, nothing
is said. The okay, your one of us, well never bother you again that Tomas expects doesnt
come, instead Richard, the boy sitting next to him lashes out clipping Toms hard on his arm,
eyes wild. Frankie seemed not to notice the punch, and stares at Toms passively. Im not
white. He repeats. Where you from then? Richard asks in a whisper through clenched teeth.
I was born here, my parents are Southerners. From where? Frankie asks. They were born
here too, they speak it. I cant, but they can, Im a Southerner Toms pleads with the two boys.
Frankie shrugs, dismissing him and his white skin, turning back around when the teacher begins
to talk. Toms expects another blow, but Richard just whispers through gritted teeth, white
boy its uttered with malice and used like an excuse.
Walking out of class to play in the small playground, Toms still tries to replay what the teacher
had said. He hadnt known any answers to any of the questions, and to make matters worse, she
placed him next to Richard at the far end of the room. He stood eyes adjusting from the
classroom lighting, when he is hit hard in the stomach with a dirty rubber ball. The red kind of
rubber ball that the kids used for everything in Company schools, handball, kickball, and dodge
ball. They had been waiting for him to come out, giving the balls a new use, the daily torment of
kids like him. The sound of the ball hitting his stomach was high pitched, and oddly dampened
by the rubber that the ball was made from. The memory persists.
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 15

School life continues in this fashion for Toms, he wishes many times that he could go to his
teacher about the beatings and name calling, but he is so far behind in classes, the last thing he
wants, is to draw attention to himself. He sits in the back of all his classes, if the teachers let
him, most do. They know there is a problem, but hes the least of their troubles. Hes quiet, so
hes ignored. He finds himself trying to copy what he sees, and when that doesnt work, he
spends his time in class and at home trying to hide. He produces unrecognizable letters strewn
across paper, hours of labor for nothing. Doom and dread are always present in the pit of his
stomach, and hes clueless on how to help himself. Finally, a teacher forced by Company
bylaws insists on a parent conference. It was like a lot of days for him, stuck inside, no air
conditioning, and the smog outside so thick you could taste it.
Hes waiting for his mother who is already late, sitting nervously on the outside bench thinking
how much hates this place. When she shows, she walks past him without a word, disappearing
into the mouth of the room. He looks past the yard, past the ten foot high fence and stares at the
middle school across the street. Hes going to have a whole new batch of kids to look forward to
kicking his ass, older brothers, and cousins of the kids here. Most of them full-fledged gang
members, waiting to prove their worth, waiting for easy prey. He would have to watch who he
stood up to, because once he hit junior high, the knives and guns came into things. Just in the
last few months, hed heard of two stabbings, and last year a teacher had been killed. He blinked
and imagined what his teacher was saying to his mother, it seemed like hours had passed but in
reality, the sun had barely moved its place in the sky. He imagined her coming out pity and
understanding in her eyes No matter what that teacher says, youre smart, I can show you
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 16

while embracing him. What he does see on her face as she walks out, is something completely
different. Not compassion, nor understanding, just rage and humiliation occupying her face.
They walk in silence together away from the classroom, Toms looks back once, and the teacher
is just standing in the doorway watching them go. He hadnt wanted to guess what she was
thinking. It was enough that he could feel his moms contempt for him, he could almost see it, of
course that was all make believe, never the less he does see it, and now Paco is aware of the
event sharing it with the young man. Their mothers contempt of the child is worn like an oxen
yoke. Dark green, and biting into her neck, its reigns taunt with the burden of other emotions.
He knows when he gets home hell be punished for being stupid and getting shitty grades then
something else occurs to him, hes probably getting held back. Humiliation complete. He wants
to cry out, wants to run away, where would I go? He thinks. He doesnt run, he walks instead
through the empty schoolyard in the late afternoon, the pollutants shimmer in the setting sun,
turning everything around them into a golden and grey haze. He sees her wiping tears in his
peripheral, and his heart drops further into his stomach. By the time they reach the car, hes out
of breath. The nose filters he had put on in the morning were clogged by noon, and were now
painfully rubbing the back of his nose, making the roof of his mouth itchy. He grabs the door
handle, pulls himself into the vehicle and closes the door without a word, the triviality of school
a distant second to his closing lungs. He waits for her to flick on the scrubbers, before pulling
out his nose filters, He taps them out on the dashboard, watching the accumulation of dust
cascade down the dash to be sucked in by the vehicles filtration system. He recalls seeing the
package for the nose filters, it said something like The Company will not be responsible for any
health issues from improper use or if used past the filters 14 day shelf life Hed had his twice as
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 17

long as that. Toms saw his mom reach out and felt her pinch the fleshy part of his skin just
under his arm her eyes blazing with the same malice as Paco had seen in Richards. Why
would you do that in here? Do that outside next time, I dont need to be breathing your dirty
air. He sat in silence as she pulled away from the school into traffic. I just got my ass chewed
out for not checking your homework! What are you telling her about me? The pinch came again
and with it guilt and humiliation. Whats wrong with you? Why cant you just do your work?
Why cant you do anything without me? I dont have time Toms. He said nothing, only sat
with one hand holding the spot where she had pinched. He pulled out his inhaler and thanked
God that they were given out free at school. He took two hits. Fucking idiot is what you are.
She took her eyes off the road just to glare at him. Ill work harder Mom, I promise. She
laughed out loud, Oh yeah right. When we get home I want you to lock yourself in your room
and not come out until you finish your work, and it better be good, you hear me? They pulled
up to a one story apartment building that once served as a hotel, years ago. At the far end of
parking lot was a neon sign, its green letters spelling out Pleasant Land Apartments, a smaller
sign below it read No Vacancy. Bordering the two signs was the snake body of the feathered
serpent, flashing green and brown alternately. They moved at least once a year from apartment
to apartment, just ahead of the eviction notice, landing in a new place before their credit caught
up with them. They had been at Pleasant Land for two years and he liked it, it was ugly and
dangerous, there were prostitutes cruising out front on the street, and graffiti splattered on all
surfaces but it was better than nothing, they both knew it. They hurried into their place, locking
the door behind them, he heard the faint hiss as the seals kicked on. In the small front room,
when the light hit just right, Toms would sit and watch the smog creeping through the door
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 18

despite the seals. Swirling patterns would appearing in the dim light. There was a modest sofa
opposite the front door, where his mother, TV blaring would do most of her sleeping. Her
unused room was to the right, past their mini kitchen, and he headed the opposite way to his
small room without saying a word. He had been hungry when they got home but knew better
than to ask for anything. Until you finish your work, and it better be good, you hear me. He
spent three hours sitting alone on two pages of math, knowing that his answers werent even
close to being right. Most of that time he spent looking down at the page, hoping for any of it to
make sense. He imagined the numbers rising up off the page, unlocking his understanding, but
he had no luck. He stood for a long time, papers in hand, staring at his door. He thought of
different ways to ask her for help, what she might say, what hed answer. When his courage
finally came to him, he opened the door and saw the empty couch, the TV on and nothing else.
He looked out the window and their car was gone, how did he not hear her leave? He laid the
messy, smudged papers on the kitchen table, grabbed the refrigerator door and pulled out the
butter and package of tortillas. As he sat watching the same channel she had left on, he could
hear The Company sweepers, large armored vehicles equipped with water cannons and machine
guns called suppressors making the rounds. The suppressors shot rubber bullets and the cannons
would deliver water at such a high-velocity that it could strip paint.
Junior high didnt turn out to be as menacing as he thought it would be. Also he hadnt been left
behind, not for any of his doing, but from Company age rules. He had made friends with others
like him, others trying to just survive. The larger campus gave them places to hide. The gangs
were there, and the members that came up with him into middle school gave him a kind of
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 19

protection from the bottom feeders and kids from the neighboring primary schools. It was
apparently okay for kids from his old school to beat on him, but anyone else would pay a price,
by their rules because he still lived within their invisible border.
By the time the memories reached Toms 15
th
birthday (and real time), Paco was finding it
harder and harder to judge if the kids emotions were attached to the actual events, or leftovers
bleeding into new moments. He could see Toms mind becoming desensitized over time to
violence, death, sex, and love. He had moved on to high school and saw kids like Frankie come
back from small stints in juvie lock up, with signs of accomplishment tattooed onto young skin.
Frankie was running things now for the South Valley, recruiting out of high school and juvie,
putting a new batch of vatos locos to work on the production and distribution of the drug stream.
Paco remembered what Hopkins had said to him about a way out. Could this forgotten or hidden
life be a clue, be the way out? Before he could process anything else, he felt the spiders crawling
onto his eyes.
The Killer
He opened his eyes and the first thing to register was the cold pool of blood he was lying in, his
nude body comfortably at home in fluid beneath him. He sat up, ran his fingers through hair that
was wet and clumping. His agenda was to sit, have his coffee and do nothing else, taking a
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 20

shower being added to the list of things he had to do this morning, annoyed him. The girl lay at
the foot of the bed, face up, what was left of her wedding dress was tattered and soaked with
blood, her train and veil had turned to pink. The killer had cut her multiple times across her
stomach, slicing horizontally leaving her and the dress a ragged mess. One arm was bent behind
her torso, but the killer was looking at the bite marks that he had left on her face, the chunks of
torn off skin exposing her lower teeth fascinated him. Her eyes were caught open, pretty blue
now the smoky grey of death. The killer lay back down, a silly smile dancing across his lips. He
laughed quietly to himself, and the pillow under him squished with blood. He closed his eyes
and slept. It was the heat of the day woke him. He looked at his watch, it read 11oclock.
Plenty of time to shower, shave, and make his meeting. He rose stretching, when he was done
the killer squatted down over the dead bride, and spoke to her in a low tone with a light British
accent Im afraid that I just dont have time for you right now, but I cant leave you here like
this. The killer laid on top of her, nuzzling his nose into her neck. He puckered his lips to kiss
her ear and found it missing. He halfheartedly looked around the room for it I must have ate it,
the thought made him chuckle. He snuggled in closer to her body whispering into the hole that
was her ear, you cant come with me so Im going to make you nice and comfy ok? He kissed
her cheek, then stuffed his lips deep into one of the holes he had made, reaching out with his
tongue to lick her even white teeth. He lifted her by her waist, her bloody midsection had made
her slippery and he almost dropped her, woo almost lost ya! He heaved her on the bed, her
arm flapped about, it wasnt broken, but twisted off the bone, hanging on by tendon and muscle.
The brides hand lay open palm up oddly white and free of blood, her new wedding ring catching
the light of the sun giving it a sense of life. He jerked her arm off swiftly as to not move her and
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 21

walked to the bathroom door with it. The killer knocked using her hand, the ring made a tapping
sound on the door. Are you done in there? Because I really need to use the bathroom right
now He looked back at the bride and shrugged before pushing the unlocked door open. The
groom lay on his back in the bathtub, wrapped tightly in the shower curtain, his mouth taped. He
tried to scoot away from the killer but only managed to wiggle a few inches.
The wedding had been a modest courthouse affair, thrown by the couples friends. They had
also never spent the night in a hotel so close to the North before, and their friends had paid for
that too. Upon opening the hotel door, and after he carried his bride Margo across the threshold,
they heard a knock behind them. The groom turned around, setting his bride on her feet with a
kiss. The husky man in the hotel uniform stood smiling, next to a cart containing a single bottle
and two glasses. They let him in, laughing, assuming that this was another gesture given to them
by their friends. They took their eyes off of him only for a moment, to smile at each other, then
the bottle was being smashed across the back of the grooms head, he registered two more blows
from the killers fist before blacking out. When the groom came to, he was lying on his back, his
whole body covered in thick silver duct tape. The man in the hotel uniform held up the almost
finished roll of tape and a large knife for the groom to see. Where is the other man? Margo? He
was about to scream out her name when the man said I wouldnt scream if I were youwhat
you are going to do, is not say a fucking word or the killer set down the tape and pulled from
his pocket what looked to the groom like a glass guitar slide. The killer placed it into his own
mouth, demonstrating to the groom how easy it was to breathe through the glass tube. He took it
out of his mouth and lovingly wrapped the last of the tape around the cylinder so that the hole
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 22

was exposed, unused tape dangled off its sides. He held up his finished project, grabbed the
knife and told the groom open. Too stunned and scared to do anything but what he was told,
the groom helplessly let the killer place the tube into his mouth. Now continued the killer,
grabbing the mans jaw applying upward pressure, the click of his teeth on the glass sounded
amplified to the groom. The killer pressed down hard on the tape across the grooms cheeks.
Look at me. The killers face filled his vision, it was changing. He watched, not breathing as
the killers eyes turned slowly from brown to black, to blue to green. What youre going to do is
not say a fucking word, or I break the glass and you diechoking. All you do tonight is lay
here, anything else, I kill you both. The groom thought He must be wearing a mask who me?
Answered the killer, as his face began to morph in time with his eyes, the groom urinated
himself. Thisis allme. The sound of the killers voice was distorted as the air ran through
his changing larynx. Courtesy of training of course, but still, all me, only me. The voice was
sickly reassuring. The killer turned and walked out of the bathroom.
When she began to scream, he was relieved. Now someone will hear, he told himself call about
the noise, help will come. He held on to those thoughts because he couldnt think of any other
way out for them. But either no one cared, or no one heard the screams, other than the groom.
He laid for what felt like an eternity, weeping, breathing, praying and listening. He heard three
different voices in the room with his wife, and was still in shock of what he had seen the killer
do. He guessed they might have been the only occupied room on the floor. Thats why no ones
coming to help, no one can hear her. The groom lay alone with his morbid thoughts, the killer
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 23

didnt come into the bathroom, and he was thankful when all the different voices had stopped
talking.
The light above him made it a fools game to tell time. He hadnt known how long he slept, he
hadnt known how he could sleep, but he did. He didnt hear any voices coming from the other
side of the door. He waited. When the killer opened the door in the morning, the last 15 hours
felt like 15 days. He was confused and circulation had been cut off to all his limbs, his body was
screaming with pain, so when the killer lifted him shouldering his body, the groom cried out.
Fucking hell! the killer screamed back, dropping the groom on the floor jaw first. Why in the
hell would you scream like that he asked holding his ringing ear. The thick glass tube broke in
the grooms mouth, sending shards scraping past his teeth into his gums and the roof of his
mouth. His body betrayed him and instinctively, he took in a great breath of air. Pieces of glass
and blood where sucked down his throat and he began to choke. This is how I die he thought.
The killer stood over him, naked and covered in blood, looking again like the man that they had
first seen. Yeah, this is how youre going to die, lets try this again. The grooms failing brain
told him that no one can read your thoughts, youre in shock. I can and youre not He was
lifted again and thrown back over the same bare shoulder. When his stomach hit the hard muscle,
it sent what little air was left in his lungs up and out. Some of the bloodied glass fell from his
mouth onto the bathroom floor. Then, he could see the carpet, covered in bloody footprints. He
tried cautiously to take a breath, and was thrown on the bed with what was left of his wife. His
vision began to black out and he was thankful for death to come. He didnt feel the killer slit his
throat, spraying his blood on her, he heard him laughing though.
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 24

The killer walked into the bathroom, stepped in the tub and began to shower. Changing from
black, to white to brown, he continued to shape shift, letting his mind wander under the hot
water. He had hundreds of past lives, all at his disposal. The Company had selected him from
the military and honed in on his patriotism, obedience, and discipline. When he fell dying on
some jungle planet, The Company was there for his rebirth, putting him right back into training.
For life after life afterwards, he worked for them. They used him for invasions of new worlds to
seed mankinds dominance across the multi-verse. They taught him the tricks of quantum
physics, how to make jumps, how to go through his past lives, and how to keep them under
control. After time, the killer could remember everything, not just his last life but every last life.
He found that he could shift and change into whoever he wanted to be. The killer was trained to
invent a barracks in his mind where he stuck each previous life, letting them out as needed. He
told each of them that they were a great service to The Company, and to mankind. We are at
war, and war is forever became his mantra. After so many years in the field he needed structure,
the company made the mistake of sending him out alone, seldom asking him to report back to
base, keeping him out in the fringes. Sometimes he would sit and watch the chaos of a toppled
government, or the murder of an innocent man, the genocide of a whole people and revel in the
madness that drove them, but of late he was also left to see the look in the peoples eyes upon
realizing what theyd done. Over the last hundred years, the barracks the killer built, had fallen
neglected into ruin. The killer discovered he needed only 10 of his past lives to accomplish most
missions given to him, the rest were left starving and mad. The ten had begun to take control
without his knowledge and when The Company would call theyd hide away, leaving the killer
in control. They knew all of this of course, no matter how they tried, they would lose soldiers to
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 25

this particular kind of madness. They had not wanted to spend the money, time, or resources to
bring these men back in, to structure their lives as they were before. They would sit back and
watch millions of soldiers die. Only a handful of them would make it beyond 100 years,
eventually hed have to kill himself and The Company would put his mind to work on one of the
many walls constructed throughout the multi-verse. Back in the shower, the killer let the blood
run off his body, staying mostly in control, they had all had a great time last night. He dressed in
the bathroom, jeans, t-shirt, black boots, and a bowler hat. The coppery smell of blood and feces
lingered in the rooms heat. He stood hands in his pockets, admiring his work. He could feel the
tightness of his jeans, looked down and was surprised to see that he was erect. I wish I could,
but I cant. he told the dead room. He left the room, happy that he didnt see anyone on the way
out. He found a cab waiting for him outside the lobby, got in and drove away. He didnt notice
the man at the desk calling The Company police, or the bleeding naked woman wrapped in a
soaked hotel sheet cowering on the floor behind the desk manager, eyes wide and rolling.
The Detective
The detective stood just outside the door to the honeymoon suite, he was wearing a white button
down shirt, black slacks, black tie, and black comfortable work shoes with a shine. His hair was
neatly cut and parted to one side. His thin mustache was as neatly trimmed as his hair, but for all
that, he had an informal demeanor about him, it made him easy to trust. The sweat on his back
was cooling in the air conditioned hallway, he watched Hernandez skillfully at work, taking
pictures from every angle. Hernandez, a big man standing at 63, his once muscular frame now
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 26

just bulk floating beneath the white painters suit he wore. The top of his sweaty head was
covered by the last few long strings of hair that he meticulously combed over his balding head.
The detective hadnt wanted to be the one to point out that this made his baldness more apparent.
The two men had worked together for more than 10 years, trusting each others work without
question. The detective was one of the few men who knew how to make the most of
Hernandezs incredible talent as an investigator, (the best thing to do was to give him space and
let him be) When he was done taking pictures, he would scan them into a Company computer,
creating a 360 degree virtual crime scene for them to work. The police force over in the North
had the latest scanners and wall penetrating radar, they could scan their crime scenes and feed
them back in real time to the detectives in the office, allowing them to work the scene without
ever having to walk into it. Here though, Hernandez took his pictures and with any luck, if no
one was out sick, theyd have theirs in two weeks. The detective stood looking at his
handwritten notes, there had been a 322 emergency call made from the front desk almost six
hours ago. A man had busted into the room of a prostitute and her pimp. The pimp got two or
three hits in before being knocked out. The next thing he knew, he was being woken up by the
front lobby guy, his lady screaming in the hallway. Responding officers tracked down the cabbie
who said hed dropped the man off somewhere in the North, but couldnt remember exactly
where. The onboard cab computers didnt log the location either, and the picture the cab
automatically takes whenever someone enters or leaves it, was blurry and distorted. It wasnt
until a full three hours later when uniformed officers were doing door-to door, asking if anyone
had seen or heard anything, that they found the couple in the honeymoon suite. The detective
was hoping that the assault of the pimp and rape of his lady werent related to the murders in the
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 27

suite, but his gut was telling him it was the same psychopath. The room lay at the far end of the
building, the surrounding suites were unoccupied. Still someone should have heard something,
but he was already anticipating the answers he would get when he interviewed staff and
occupants, shame and fear, but no answers. Theyre all just glad that its someone elses
problem. Double murder, assault, rape, a blurry cab photo, thats not a lot the detective
would have continued his line of thought if Hernandez hadnt interrupted. What did the cabbie
say? He continued snapping pictures while waiting for an answer. He was scared man, said
the guy was crazy, that he knew better than to argue with crazy. Whats to argue about?
Said they spent 20 minutes in traffic with the guy mumbling to himself, the man, probably our
suspect, then asked to be left off as soon as they hit the Northern border. Told the cabbie he was
taking too long and he would walk the rest of the way. He accused the guy of driving around in
circles for an hour, and when the cabbie pointed to the 20 minute affair, he punched the window
before getting out. Stiffed the cabbie huh? No, cabbie said the guy walked out to the front
and left the $50 credit under the windshield wiper. Hernandez stopped clicking and looked up.
The detective continued, cabbie said the guy must have been wearing some sort of high-end
mask, gave me two descriptions of the guy. Hernandez let his camera dangle on his neck. you
know its funny you should say that, he pointed in the general direction of the room. Weve
got multiple prints, multiple semen, and two blood types so far, bride and groom. Then he
pointed specifically towards the floor just past the foyer, only one set of shoe prints. Also,
youre going to want to take a look at that tray. The detective finally made his way into the
room, and immediately felt the weight of the situation rest squarely on his shoulders. He
imagined the initial fight took place right inside the door, then walked over to the stainless steel
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 28

cart. There were dozens of fingerprints outlined in black dust, taped down for preservation. He
then saw what Hernandez was taking about, the prints were a variety of sizes, and they were
smudging all of the cart. But, he thought to himself, look at this. He hovered over the cart and
placed his hands just above the bar, mocking a push movement, imagining what his own fingers
would do. One guy? He spoke more to himself than out loud, but Hernandez answered, I
think so. The detective looked at Hernandez and then over to the groom. What is that in his
mouth? Hernandez used his lens to get a closer look. It looks like it was a glass pipe? They
both nodded in disbelief. They had grown up in the slums of the South, where the heat of the
desert seemed to spawn drug and gang violence, but this type of violence always got to them.
Ill be happy when I find this one. The detective was ready to process the scene and tentatively
asked Hernandez How long? Shit brother, you know how it goes, 10 working days to get
anything back. 10 days with other cases piling up, wont be a matter of catching the guy, but a
matter of having the time and money to do it. Hernandez stood next to the detective as if reading
his thoughts, ungloved his right hand and squeezed the detectives shoulder momentarily. They
stared out over the chaos and bloodshed, and the detectives eyes wandered over to the window.
They didnt even get to see the ocean. Focusing to North with momentary envy, the detective
remembered it was five or six years ago when a Company politician looking for reelection
promised two state-of-the art DNA recognition computers that could extract DNA from anything
you put into it. Within minutes you would have all the information you needed, school test
scores, amount of children, if any, a full family tree profile, all financial statements (this feature
was kept from the public) and the location of your suspect. Of course after the election, only one
machine was purchased and it lay hard at work in the North. We can always rent the time.
[Author's Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 29

The detective didnt realize he spoke out loud. New funding doesnt come in for another two
weeks, and we have to use that to pay for the shit that weve already done, Hernandez
answered. They shook hands and Hernandez wordlessly walked out of the room, leaving the
detective to his work. He looked at the woman for the first time. Jesus, he swore, as a wave of
misery clutched his stomach. Dont fuck this one up, got to catch this guy. He looked at her
beaten, swollen face. I hope she wasnt alive when he bit her. He worked the room, walked in
and out of the bathroom, and cautiously examined the footsteps in the carpet. When he was sure
he had an understanding