Chapter 4
When they arrived at Los Posthumous station, Finn wanted to go by himself but Keaton wasn’t going to take his chances. He wanted to made sure Finn gets inside the train before he leaves the teenager on his own.
“Oh, cool, Space Time!” Finn ran towards a galaxy-themed stall, quickly pulling his wallet out as he ordered.
Keaton followed after him with a sigh. It was a crowded place, but they never know what danger awaited them. He watched as the lady behind the stall served him a box of fries. Four flavors were separated by a thin carton. Along with the space-themed fries was an astronaut-designed shake.
“Isn’t this for kids?” Keaton mumbled.
“I am a kid,” Finn said, offering the box of fries towards Keaton. “Want some? I’d recommend the buffalo-flavored one for someone your age. Try it.” Keaton didn’t take any. “Come on, it’s my treat.” Finn nudged him with the box.
The mercenary rolled his eyes and took a fry or two, throwing it into his mouth and swallowing. Finn lied. It wasn’t buffalo-flavored. The kick of jalapenos burned his throat as it traveled down his stomach. Fortunately for Keaton, he liked eating. On an unfortunate note, he didn’t like food that was spicy or soaked in peppers.
He casually pulled out his wallet, clearing his throat as he ordered a milkshake from the stall lady.
Finn laughed as the stall lady prepared his shake. “My bad. But it’s good, right?”
Keaton shot him a glare, as sharp as the dagger hidden in his person. He took his milkshake from the stall lady, not cutting eye contact with the teenager. “Move.”
“Alright, alright. Sheeesh.”
They walked towards the ticket machine Keaton slipped in a couple of coins to purchase a ticket. The screen flashed a series of station names like it’s a multiple choice exam. “Where to?” Keaton asked.
“Flipburough.”
Keaton tapped choice A and a card stuck out of the machine. The mercenary snatched it before Finn could take it. “Where in Flipburough?”
Finn took a sip from his milkshake. “I’m not privy to tell you that. I admire you trying to squeeze information out of me though.”
Just when Keaton thought he could get the information and find out where Olivia Mesa was hiding. She was a mysterious woman. Olivia was a reputable employer to mercenaries. One-time job, easy money. But no one had seen her personally before.
Keaton handed the card. He didn’t want to breach the contract. He and his mercenary friends knew that the moment Olivia picked up on anyone trying to extract information about her through her clients would either end up dead or forever be crossed off her list of favorite mercenaries to hire. She paid honestly and she paid fast. No one wanted to screw that up. Not even Keaton.
“Sorry,” Keaton mumbled, allowing the teenager to pass by him.
As Finn walked towards the turnstile gate, he swiped the card and the gate beeped green for him to pass. “Corner of G7 Avenue and J8th,” Finn said as he walked through the gate. “Next time we see each other, you owe me some Space Time.”
Keaton scoffed, noting down the location in his memory as he texted Olivia that he finished the mission, then left the station.
When he got back to his apartment, he quickly went to his desk, picking up a sticky note and writing down the address. He stood by the board of yarns, photos and sticky notes that covered one side of the room and taped the address on top of the photo of a silhouetted woman. Olivia’s name written below it.
On the other hand, Keaton didn’t want to stay under Olivia in the long-term. If he could find her, maybe he could bargain for money, maybe he could negotiate not to be a contractor or maybe see if she was interested in a–no. Keaton shook his head. Olivia was nothing more than an employer.
He turned the radio on to listen to the news while he dressed into his pajamas. And we are back with the City’s evening news. This is Lily Morgan… Keaton didn’t hear what the other anchor had to say, he just knew he zoned in Lily’s voice. His lips curved into a small smile as he walked to the fridge to grab a beer and a large foil sitting in the middle shelf.
…Mysticorps still refuses to comment on accusations that their so-called cure–TL465 had been killing Anomalies left and right. Family and friends that hid Anomalies in their homes stepped forward to sign a petition and bring down…
Keaton unwrapped the foil, revealing a large burger. He placed it on a plate and walked over to the oven to bring it back to its hot, meaty, juicy state. However, the oven only lit up for a couple of seconds before it shuts down.
…Rival company, Biogenetics Inc. announced yesterday about a–and I quote– “a much better and more effective cure”–for the Anomalies. They ask for volunteers to come out of their comfort zone and…
Sitting down with a cold burger, Keaton took a big bite and ignored how stale the meat was between his teeth. The buns tasteless but it was still food. He glared at the oven, making his misery a mental reminder he needed to buy a new one.
…with the ongoing debate regarding the Anti-Anomaly campaign, we would like to remind everyone that while they are among us, acting as our father, mother…
Keaton looked back at his board. On top was the connections he was trying to make between Mysticorps and Biogenetics Inc. and at the bottom of the board was the list of Anomalies he knew, dead or alive.
…or a friend, they are still Anomalies. They are dangerous predators and most often than not, they do not have control of their abilities.
A couple of the photos at the bottom of the board are crossed out. Red for the ones that Keaton had to kill because his job demanded it of him, but when he used black marker it was because they were killed by somebody else.
The mercenary didn’t have nightmares when taking the lives of his victims, but there was one that he really dreaded to deal with.
…this is the City’s evening news, your gateway to informative truth. This is Lily Morgan. And this is…
Mr. Morgan was a dangerous Anomaly that would no doubt reach the mercenary radar soon. His ability to predict the future would either become a threat to the people of power or they would want to use him.
Either way, he wished he wouldn’t take any part of it for whatever reason.
“Please stay in the dark, Mr. Morgan,” he mumbled.
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