2

“Breaking news, multiple deaths in OL this morning, sadists or religious sacrifices, more news at a quarter past the hour.”

8:05 AM, you sat at the wooden breakfast table the color of milk chocolate. The sound of the radio projected from the wall unit into the kitchen. Your sisters occupied your left side, father, mother, and brother filling the right. You were the oldest of the three girls, second oldest of the family. Richard, your brother the engineer, cut into his breakfast of ham steak. He was skinny with dark hair flipped into a shelf with shortcut sides, two years older. Pale blue cardigan, and button up shirt with the top three buttons undone exposing a t‐shirt underneath, red tie hanging loose around neck neatly turned back to avoid breakfast, brown toffee colored cufflinks locking the wrist line into order.

“There is a shut down of the Pollis and Danbury expressways today after the burnings of the estates of Cliffson and Hunters which took place this morning. A representative from the OLFD commented that faulty wiring in a transformer linking the two homes caused the fire between 4 and 6AM. The entire block was consumed, leaving the 60­ year ­old homes in ash and residents in the vicinity wondering what will be done to make up for this collapse in the power network. ‘This is clearly a major issue,’ said Donovan Cliffson, chairman of Cliffson and Steelson engineering. Cliffson and Steelson, the firm commissioned for the creation of MAGS Seven through Ten, was also one of over 15 firms licensed in the installation of the power grids along the Blue Line. ‘We can always rebuild, but something must be done to restore the imbalance left by the destruction of this lynch pin in the network,’ Meyer Hunters of Five Hunts Construction. I’m Donald Curio more up next after this commercial”

New Afro Disco coming out of the speakers, ‘Have you ever felt like the stage was becoming too small...’ Richard slurped his tea, coughing a little after the sound break. He was getting thinner, the temples of his hair line turning lighter, grey patches popping up through out his light brown hair, clear oversized glasses made him look more as inside joke than actual engineer.

“F*****g Nazis, I swear, Cliffson and Hunters are cashing in for new lots,” Richard.

“I don’t know why you pulled those two in on the MAG projects, Jason, you remember what your father said about Ruland Cliffson.” Your mother, blonde hair curled in massive locks, she looked like Betty Boop in Monroe colors. She sipped from a tall lead crystal glass, one of the many sources behind the family dementia. You had twisted the toxic doorknobs of your house and peered out of windows forged with poisonous metal since you were in the womb. “F*****g tumors, I’m glad they’ll be gone soon.” An uncorked champagne bottle sat in the middle of the table, her morning chaser before the volley of prescriptions she fired into her system. There wasn’t any doubt by now in your head she actually needed these pills to function. It was the age, hormone therapy kept skin taught and mind edged into an incomprehensible state of affairs. You would travel this road eventually. It was unsettling, you already you felt the creep coming on, failure to keep up the tracking of events, sickness in the mornings not to be confused with the other kind, nose bleeds. You fit together well, drew yourself into black denim polyester blend pants, white tee shirt pulled over square thin shoulders, v neck narrowing in on the center of c cup breasts, black ink peaking out beneath high shoulder sleeves.

“Did you hear about Herbie Hunters?” You tuned into your left, almost your voice, younger, sprier, your youngest sister Boo, she ran a grapefruit spoon over her teeth. “Did you hear what happened to Herbie Hunters, JK?”

“Shut the F**K up Boo!” she screamed, green eyes blazing she brought her head up from her magazine, cereal spoon jingling at the outburst. Her blonde hair was darker than your mothers with a tint of berry, black pencil dress and high socks, Holly Golightly hairdo. You called her Snoopy. She used to shadow you, Charlie Brown. You were five years older when you were in grade school, the name stuck like glue.

“That is enough Jenny Kryss.” Mother

“Shut the f**k up Boo.” She pared it back pinching and twisting the skin on Boo’s arm. Everyone knew what happened to Herbie Hunters. The first pictures appeared around 6AM with video feed coming in around 7 on Blender and Shocks websites respectively. A head lying in a puddle of filth you knew wreaked with the smell of baby s**t and pennies under the inverted hanging corpses of five unrecognizable youths, now dripped almost dry, the sound of wind rushing past the microphone on the camera. The morning walkers were parading past on the trail below, the footage reported anonymously by a source. The local news cycle bit on hard, the number one, four, and seven, news stories rolled into one as they stretched to contain complete coverage of the “Bitter Blood Murders” as they were called in the first interview with a nameless jogger that came across the bodies, quote, “It stuck in the air, the smell, even with the wind blowing. It was pretty obvious that there was a lot of blood on the ground, and when I came across the bodies I knew that something foul had happened here.”

“Good morning, this is Alonzo Jacobs with your Monday weather report. Today’s temperature in Bernal Flats will reach 29 degrees Celsius by the late afternoon. At this moment the temperature is 20 degrees in Our Lady, with dense fog expected to burn off around noon. Expect high, scattered clouds, another great day for tanning and laying out in the sun on this lovely spring day. Those heading out to the springs today are in for a treat, Geosevices is ranking today’s water temperature is at 26 degrees Celsius with heavy flow at Crater Falls. That’s all for today’s weather, back to Donald with more news, Donald.”

“Barty what time is your doctor’s appointment?” Your dad gathered himself for departure.

“I don’t know, Jason, some time around two.”

“Take your sisters to class today.” Jason

“Pick them up too?” You poured a glass of orange juice. You pushed a pile of eggs around on your plate, a slice of your head on the radio.

“What time do you have your meeting with your advisor?” Jason

“It’s written down somewhere, not before five,” you looked up from your plate, he was stirring his coffee, eyes down same intent on something else. He was never home these days.

“Any progress with the credit transfer?” Jason

“No.”

“You know you have to have your paperwork delivered by the 19th if you want to report next semester.” Mother

“I know.”

“How is---” Jason was cut short by screeching tires and honking horn.

“I’m out, gotta save the f*****g world.” Your brother drowned the leftovers in his bowl of oatmeal with the tea from his mug and pushed his chair into the table.

“Don’t work too hard, Dick.”

He kissed your mother on the cheek staring daggers into the side of your head. Things had been tense at the new facilities, Zero Ridge, you wouldn’t see him for days at a time and when he would return to the house he was strapped to the computer, video conferences across the seas with a new rung of investors wanting to know the timeline for what was underway on the project.

“Reports in this hour, Dorece McKinnley has been jailed for cocaine possession and parole violation. With this violation, the dimming star of the hit web series Double Takes will be serving out a two year sentence as her contract stipulates for any drug charges.” Alonzo

“I don’t see why she can’t get her act together, she was so cute in Double Takes. I really hope with this prison stint she can really turn it back around,” Donald.

“Jordan Production and Consulting has opted to take on the upcoming project and is outfitting the medium security female camp of Orial with upgrades to their surveillance system to provide a more comprehensive view of Dorece’s incarceration,” Alonzo.

“Let’s just hope she likes her burgers with fur. Coming up next, remembering the trial of Walter Devero and the collapse of the Sun Cage project. We’ll be back in 5,” Donald.

Commercial break.

“Tenga has been bringing you the cutting edge in “musterbation” technology for over fifty years. Now we are glad to bring you the Devol Pleasure Pad.” Warm up‐tempo piano music closed out the final sounds of an advert voiceover of a young woman hawking sex devices. “This tiny massage pad comes with a remote control system that allows the user full operation over the 32 different frequencies and functions in this small wonder of plastic pleasure technology. The Devol comes with a titanium white carrying case that fits in the palm of your hand and can be discreetly tucked away in your coin purse.” Boo leaned around your middle sister to tap you on the shoulder before shooting back to her previous position. You caught her hand, a small crumpled piece of paper dropping to the floor as she let out a small yelp, feigned from the look on her face, a wink, you caught the paper and put it in your pocket. The events lost on your parents now falling into their daily routines, father’s video conference would be in an hour or so, he pushed away from the table dishes stacked, he pet you on the head, kissed Jenny and Boo on the top of their heads.

“Come by the Lake Complex today after class?” Jason

“I’ll see.”

“Get your papers in order, Barty,” he walked out of the room, blonde hair to his shoulders pulled back in pony tail, red collar tightly pressed to the back of his neck. He was just as tall as you, same nose, same eyes, blonde hair matching your sister, yours was the only black in the family.

“Get your papers together, Barty,” Jenny Kryss parroted in an English accent more male than female in her tone.

“Dad doesn’t even sound like that,” Boo scoffed.

“God, Boo,” Jenny Kryss sighed rubbing her temples.

“You’re, like, not good at anything, are you?” Boo gave her rendition of Jenny Kryss, a little too much valley in her voice.

“You’re, like, not good at anything are you?” Jenny Kryss in perfect mimicry of Boo. “Simpson, I need the car this afternoon so I’ll be dropping you off at your boyfriend’s office, savvy?”

“JK, I will strip you naked if you ever call him my boyfriend again,” your voice rolling out monotone your focus on the radio again, another commercial, phrenology house and tarot readings.

“Mom?” Jenny Kryss whined.

“Barty, don’t pick on your sister.” Mother

“Anyway, you are the only one that has to go to Doc Proc. Do you two have a relationship?” Jenny made air quotes with her fingers, “you know you can tell me.”

“And you were the only one born with a speech impediment, but hey we didn’t put you down,” you slapped her on the back harder than necessary, JK screamed out in dramatic pain.

“DOO YOO WAN SUM COKES AN QUACKERS,” Boo threw on the voice that your sister used to have, now corrected after speech therapy, Jenny was partially deaf.

“I f*****g hate you two, you know that?” JK, pushing in her chair, smoothing out her black dress, sun glasses coming down over her eyes, she fired a cigarette. “Where’s Milhouse?” She giggled walking out of the room, heels clicking on the slate floor down the hallway toward her room. There was sadness in Boo’s eyes, you blew her a little kiss. She shook her head at you sticking out her tongue, laughing. She pushed Jenny Kryss’s chair out of the way snuggling up under your arm.

“You two should really be nicer to Jenny,” Melody Ashby, “she’s talented, that means something. Just because you two have good sense to access your mental gifts as well as your physical gifts doesn’t mean you can’t be nice to your sister.” Your mother was always the advocate for Jenny Kryss’s attitude except when it was pointed in her direction.

“Yes Mother,” in unison your voice and Boo’s blended together.

“I’m going to Del Star this afternoon.” Melody

“I want to come!” Boo wiggled her head out from under your arm.

“Do you want anything Barty?” Melody

“No thank you.”

“Barty, you’re starting to look like a bag lady, I’m buying you new clothes.” She pointed to the dotty paint marks on your white tee. Silent she waved her hand over your figure in her eye, abbra cadabra.

“Boo, hats and shoes,” you whispered in your baby sister’s ear. She nodded her head excitedly as confirmation.

“Presentation, Barty, presentation, look at your brother.” The four words that tuned down Melody and tuned you to Boo.

“How is chemistry?” You knocked on the top of her head for her attention, she was focused on the speaker, her head rested on her folded arms.

“What? David Bitters blinded his lab partner. Did you hear that?” Boo

“What about your nanoprotein synthesis project?”

“NPSP? I need your help with the bilirubin compounds, please,” Boo smiled big, stretching the vowel.

“Barty, I expect you to do something about this.” The bleeping in of your mother as she stood up from the table. You looked up on her white hair glowing in the sunlight through the window; she flipped a lock over her shoulder.

“Pardon?”

She let out a sigh, “Clean up the table.” She rubbed her temple, drained her coffee, mimosas gone, the smell of whisky drifting up from the mug, she wrapped on the table as she walked out of the room soundlessly.

“What was mom talking about?” Boo munched on a piece of toast.

“I don’t know,” you trailed off, the breaking news sound coming over the speakers, your ears perked, you caught the eyes of your sister, her grin widening as she listened to the accounts, she had caught the scent.

“Multiple deaths were discovered this morning between the blocks of Morningside and Park. Police, detectives, and medical examiners on the scene are at a loss to place the motives behind the slayings.” Donald

“Our Lady Police Department, the Bernal County District Attorney and Medical Examiner are investigating the crime scene at Harlord’s Park. OL Police refused to comment at this time, but will be issuing a statement shortly. Neighbors and residents have gathered around the crime scene, and in early reports, it is said that the bodies of the five slain men are none other than, William and Herbie Hunters, Grant Cliffson, Devin Renyolds, and Robert Patterson. The medical examiner has yet to confirm this due to wounds inflicted.” Alonzo

“Nor have the Cliffson or Hunters’ family commented on the whereabouts of their sons. Devin Reynolds was reported missing four weeks ago, his family has been contacted to submit blood and fingerprint records to confirm weather or not the body belongs to their boy. Four of the five corpses were killed with a single gunshot wound to the head. The fifth body was savagely killed with what appears to be a knife wound to the throat.” Donald

“Former resident, Shelly Smyth, 30, now living in Los Los, lived in Our Lady at 66 Morningside Lane, across the street from Harlord’s Park for 22 years. Her parents still live there.” Alonzo

“I was on my morning run when I was hit in the face with the distinct smell of blood and feces. It was a most wretched thing,” Smyth. “I’ve never seen so much blood before. It was quite surprising.” Shelly

“Shelly went on to say she does not frequently visit her family in OL, but her mother had recently fallen ill, so she was visiting to take care of her in her hour of need. Our Lady resident Albert Marasca, who lives nearby, said he graduated from Haveshire High School with Devin Renyolds.” Donald

“Devin was involved in some pretty sick s**t I’d heard recently, you know, kidnappings and under aged white slavery type things, but that is no reason for him to end up like this, for anyone to end up like this. This is Our Lady, it’s pretty scary.” Albert

“Helicopters are still circling overhead as at least six Our Lady Police officers and Chief Christolph Lukas discuss the case off to one corner of the scene with Bernal County District Attorney Ryan Balthas. Balthas’ office has confirmed only that they are investigating "multiple deaths." Donald

“An office spokeswoman would not confirm whether police had issued a be­ on­ the­ lookout (BOLO) for a "person of interest" in the case, nor whether investigators are certain this is a quintuple­ homicide.” Alonzo

“According to reports of several prominent social networking sites these deaths have been claimed by the Outlands Separatists Party, but we here at KKZP have received intel inside the Mayer’s Family Church, the Mormon and Evangelical Leftist group responsible for demonstrations against the Zero Ridge Project, and you hear it here first, that we believe that it is this radical group that is responsible for these murders according to our analysis of several hacked messages sent between Mayer’s members.” Donald

“Where were you this morning Barty?” A full fledged smile was on Boo’s lips. In her big, black doe eyes you could see your reflection. 16 years old and she would be taller than you in a year, she was already budding into something else, rail thin and lacking the hips and chest that ran through the other women in your family, hair and skin porcelain white, she was a gorgeous ghost, you doted on her. “I went into your room this morning, I had a nightmare, where were you?” She laughed, “Well, not exactly a nightmare, but where were you brother bear? Were you---”

“Boo keep your mouth closed about this, okay?” You hushed her mid sentence.

Squeee