Posts Tagged ‘Balzac’

The air felt like it crackled around them. Another mysterious body, thunder rumbled over her. Speare looked at John, “who exorcised Thor from you?”

“Natan.” John said.

Slick dropped Speare off at the bookstore and was heading back to MacCurtis’ off  at his home or office. But the last thing said before leaving the bunker as the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) and CSIS arrived to take over with the new discovery was still a knuckleball that Speare was not expecting.

His friend’s spouse. He was the one that had performed the exorcism of the entity.

More thunder, soon the rain would start again. The shop still had five minutes before it closed. The cute wind chime that signalled the door opening.  Sax looked up while stocking a display of Prime Minister memoirs: Pearson, Clark, Trudeau Senior, Trudeau Junior, Martin, Diefenbaker and Harper.

Speare wonders how many of those Prime Ministers knew about the Prophets, who whether as a Member of Parliament, or Prime Minister condoned the Martyrs program. How far down this rabbit hole would these murders lead?

“Speare welcome back.”

“Yeah, that bunker was…” Speare searched for a word, knowing at one point in his life he no longer talked about Sax had lived there, was he there in the final fire fight.

“A shit hole.  I know, I did not mind locking that door the final time and walking back into civilian life. Veterans Affairs gave us both a good package.” Sax motions his head around the shop, the investment after buy out. “They took care of Natan.”

The last line was lower, Speare realized he had been friends with Sax so long yet had never actually met his spouse. Natan was a name spoken of with care, compassion and love but was a mystery.

“What happened that day of the lock down?”

Sax walked from the display, turned the sign to close and turned the deadbolt, he flipped the main lights off so security lighting took over and motioned Speare to follow him to the back office. There was a nice oak roll top that Sax had there, and a sitting area that looked light it fit into a tea room reconciliation sacrament in newer Roman Catholic Churches.

Speare glided into his chair, expecting a kettle to be plugged in, but in the bottom drawer of the roll top Sax pulls out a bottle of Glendfiddich, and two tumblers he brings them over to the chairs. Speare attempts to wave of the golden liquid, but Sax pours two drinks.

The bookseller takes a sip and looks at his friend. “I hated that this day would come.”

“Sax you have been a Jiminy Crickett like light to my life, what are you hiding?” Speare takes a sip to make his friend comfortable, he can feel the demons already emanating from behind his eyes.

Sax contemplates for a moment. Downs his cup, pours another and then contemplatively stares into the liquid like one doing a tea meditation. “I am not now or have I ever been a Supra. I was a street kid with a knack for the impossible.” Sax pauses many times as he tells more of his story. In moments that didn’t fit Speare could tell he was fighting tears.  Obviously the ending of the time with the Martyrs was not that heroic in his friend’s estimation. “I picked up a good use of the long bow, and took many lives much to my eternal soul state. What happened though that day…that was beyond crazy. Our bunker was discovered and we were hit hard by…Frost Giants, at least that was the short hand we used for them, huge ass alien buggars interbred with Supra’s on earth. Tore through the bunker like a shredder through paper.”

Speare could only picture the thoughts, these young adults who had done horrific things, seen horrific things suddenly in a ground zero in the one place they were supposed to be safe.  “But Speare we won, until the last bastard shot something square into our illustrious now Mayor’s third eye and then shit got real.”

What Sax described next was a literal battle through Hell and that is what tore the bunker apart. “Daemon was unconscious, so was Reesa. Malcolm was our big guns with Grizz…then Natan and me.  Malcolm was knocked out and then he…” Speare just waited, as Sax drained his second scotch and poured a third.  “Grizz was ripped in half, I can still taste his blood it hit my mouth which was open at the shock.” MacCurtis had not told Speare that he had killed the one member who had died, was that simply left out so history remembered this man better, or after the exorcism had he no memory of it and no one bothered to inform him? A why poke the sleeping bear (yes a bad pun since Grizz was part bear, part man).

But the silence was the heavy lifting necessary as Sax placed his third scotch down on the table after only a sip. He was shaking, trying to calm his nerves. “I fired at him, the very skin on his body was straining, like a t-shirt the owner of was to big for. His face was distorting. I emptied a quiver of arrows into him and he kept coming.  Then Natan.”

“Natan, your spouse.”

Sax smiled, he visibly relaxed. “My saviour, saved my ass and in that moment we were only shagging or at most a few dates in, nothing serious.  But MacCurtis was going to hug my throat if you will, but Natan stepped between us.”

What Sax described did not seem extraterrestrial or Supra related, but rather Super Natural.

“That’s where the government was wrong. Thor was not the alien entity behind the Martyrs. The entity had trapped Thor’s spirit before it could go to Valhalla. Natan shattered the prison, it was a demon that had created the Martyrs—a spirit of the Nephilim if you will. Natan infused with Thor’s spirit took the Nephilim possessed MacCurtis to the boarder of Valhalla in the midst of the bunker.”

Speare could not believe the mythological references spoken of as truth. This was a crazy moment that no one knew about, except the government sealed the bunker and covered it up. Although the general public would have no idea how to process this type of event.

“I need to speak with Natan about what happened in Valhalla’s borderland.”

“No you don’t Speare.” Sax drained his third scotch and poured a fourth. Tears were moving down his cheeks at this time. “He never talks about it, but he brought a 30 year younger MacCurtis back who was air vacced out to a hospital unconscious.”

“S.T.A.R.S took Natan too?”

Sax nodded, as he shot half his glass. “His body was burned, his hair was splotchy, an eye was missing, his ears were cauliflowered. A beautiful red skinned man that would have been spoked of as Dorian Gray, was brutalized, his clothes were rags. A spear had severed his spine, and brimstone had literally burnt his lungs.”

Speare let out a low whistle and finished off his first scotch. What had happened at the exorcism?

“Natan regained consciousness, but is in a wheel chair with oxygen and…” Sax was visibly shaken. “I held him all the way back to the city hospital. He opened his eyes when my heart realized…”

“You loved him.”

Sax nodded to Speare’s disclosure. “We live simply, the V.A. took care of him, we want for nothing medically, and mentally his mind is coming back together. But what you ask Speare, I can’t.” Sax said.

“But I can.” The voice was raspy like a smoker’s speaking through a tube. “Ask what you want of me Speare, and I will answer.”

Speare looked up. “Natan.”


Speare hated the smell of closed up spaces. It didn’t matter if it was a dwelling place, a store or in this case a hyper classified government bunker for a team of supra’s doing black ops, they all broke down to the old man smell mixed with heavy amounts of dust, and the same thick layers of cobwebs.

This one also looked like it had been an extra set on Saving Private Ryan. Slick was jumpy with her hand resting on her glocs as they moved their way through what was the control room. John fumbled with a control panel cover to get at wiring.  Whatever had gone down here had also ended with the government not paying the power bill. He muttered under his breath about jump starting the power back up. Sparks, obviously in the dark illuminated by smart phone light John didn’t match the right colours.

Creaks. Skittering sounds. Speare knew it wouldn’t be rats, Alberta had a rat patrol that for the most part kept the province rat free, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t mice, voles, gophers, badgers or worse, skunks—not enough lemon juice in the world for the last one.

The sound of a vacuum wooshing. “How damn! Not bad for a colour blind mayor.” John MacCurtis exclaimed.

Colour blind? Speare shook his head as what was dubbed the control room came alive with light, the monitors were smashed, wires were dangling and sparking, one heck of a fire hazard is what this bunker had become. Not to mention dust bunny.

“What are you hoping to find boss man, this place has been scrubbed.” Slick said.

Speare tuned out the chit chat between boss and employee, as he noted there was a door slightly askew in the corner of 1100 square foot room. But that was just a guess off the top of his head as he moved to it. With all the stainless steel looking like something out of Star Trek, and the Tesla coils he was sure Minion from Megamind would state were from a dealer in Switzerland…

A wooden closet door. It was stuck. Speare pulled on the door knob and the whole door came ff the hinges, a thud before he could brace himself dust and cleaning supplies, mops, and brooms falling out and then a solid 200 lbs of dead weight slammed into his chest and knocked him to the ground.

Dead skin flaked off across Speare’s bald had and caught in his stubble as the body’s head bounced off his. Two bullets landed square into the now empty closet, Slick was in a squawt with both guns drawn and fired.

MacCurtis leapt over broken furniture and moved the corner. He heaved the body off of Speare and let out a gasp.

“Oh shit.”

Speare took a moment to regain his senses and brush the dead skin and body dust off as he slowly rose up and looked at what had hit him. It was a male, more mummified than decomposed, let appeared as if it had some of the skin flayed from his back. His face was deformed.

“A guard?”

“Good guess Speare, but no. After the last stand here when I exorcised the entity from me, the government came through, collected the dead, took other causalities to the hospitals and debriefed the living. The bunker was sealed and the program closed.” MacCurtis stated.

“So this body came in after sealing?” Speare asked.

Slick holstered her weapons like a gunfighter out of an American western Dime Novel and walked over to where the body was found.  “Know this Mummy boss?”

John looked at the mummified scarred face.

“Reesa,  I will always love you.” Daemon said stealing a quick kiss before tearing out into the desert in a dune buggy. The girl laughed as Malcolm, the large albino, fired the gun from the top, she slightly used her telepathy to push people’s mind to confusion.

Daemon, her love, met at the house ran by MacCurtis. He had been saved from a fire that his addict mother could not be, he still bore the scars. But the flames also gave him something else that night.

A large fence door loomed, that crackle in the corner of his good right eye.

A bolt of lightning and outwards to freedom from the camp.

John knelt down, crossed himself, it had been years since he had attended a Mass, but it seemed appropriate to begin his own reconciliation work with this piece with his past. He then placed his thumb on the dead boy’s forehead, and drew a cross on his forehead, his lips, and the chest where the heart would be.

Speare watched the scene. The religiosity of it all, MacCurtis was seeking redemption in this process, it was why he had sent the Bionic Knight away. But how does one claim redemption from a time when they were possessed by an extraterrestrial entity? His body, possibly his mind, but did he have culpability for actions?

A group of adolescents to young adults used for essentially suicide missions by his own government. Somehow they survived, when one didn’t it fell apart. This bunker was destroyed during MacCurtis’ exorcism, but after sealing the bunker someone killed this mummy and left them here as a message.

“John, who is it?” Speare asked.

John looked at this detective who had been brought into some of the darkest parts of his soul. Pieces he never wanted to think about, parts he wanted to remain dead. A detective that was friends with one of the kids, the Martyrs. Yet they had survived and moved beyond what Thor had attempted to do.

“His name is Daemon, no one knew his last name. Like all the Martyrs he was found in the system, and brought to the house to be trained and used. He was alive at exorcism, and after.  He was Reesa’s boyfriend.” MacCurtis said. Speare was not sure if that was a tear of sorrow or just the build-up of dust.

“So then the next obvious question—how the hell did he wind up dead in here after it was sealed?”

“By Jove Slick I do believe we will make a detective out of your thugness yet.” Speare retorted.

The air felt like it crackled around them. Another mysterious body, thunder rumbled over her. Speare looked at John, “who exorcised Thor from you?”



Speare stood in the hallway outside the mayor’s office. The power had been restored, but there was something brewing in the sky. He could not believe what had just been disclosed, more so that Sax would not have told him that he had known the dead girl. Although that could have been Speare’s bad as he was not one to flash around corpse pics.

Slick was standing on the other side of the door, she wore her holster like a gun slinger from the old west. The Slick family had a long history of being hired “help” Speare believed the accurate term was. This was one of the more legitimate ends of the business, that being body guard work.

“How long are the two fossils going to be yabbering?”

She glared at him, and let the sunglasses slide down granny style on to the bridge of her nose. “Show some respect man, those are two icons.”

“Two icons that may or may not be wrapped up in the murder of a young woman.”

Speare could’ve sworn her heard Slick laugh at this statement as the office door opened, another flash of lightning that lit up the entire floor. The Bionic Knight walked out, mumbled something about the mayor being an idiot that he thought was inaudible under his breath before vanishing in a flash.

Speare peaked in as John MacCurtis pulled on his charcoal gray trench coat.  MacCurtis locked eyes on the detective. “Ready to go Junior?”

Speare burst out laughing. “Yea old man. Where the hell are we going?”

MacCurtis stepped out and made a hand signal for Slick to get the car. He looked at Speare, and then out the window as more thunder boomed, lightening flasehed, he swore he saw the outline of goats and a chariot in the sky.  A low growl was heard by John. It was barely audible, but something vocalized into his brain. `want to come home.’

“No.” MacCurtis said out loud. Thor wanted back inside him, and the last time that happened, it had not ended well.

“No what?”

“Thor wants back, Speare, and I am not going back to that dark place.”

“Of Martyrs, those that give their lives for their faith?” Speare said.

“Correct. True patriots, who stand for Freedom and yes, some on the team lived up to that name.” John walked with Speare to the elevator and down to the underground parkade, outside the elevator in the parkade was the black sedan, John and Speare got in the back.

“John, you owe me some answers about what the hell I have found myself in the middle of.”

“I don’t know. Years back, when the world though the Bionic Knight was dead, I was taken over by an alien entity that transformed me into an old man.” John continued his story. “There was six children, adolescents about 16 years and older, that came into my care. Effect survivors, that if I had not taken them in would’ve wound up in jail or dead.”

Speare nodded as the story unfolded. “I used them as a means to continue the work Zed had with the Prophets, we were dubbed the Martyrs as a full next level. Those that could go forward and do things that the government or other heroes may not want to.”

“Kids? Seriously, you used kids?”

“Yes Speare, they were brave, like the original X-Men or Teen Titans, as they aged the entity’s control on me grew. We joined some peace keeping missions… the last one saw the entity exorcised from me, and a team member die. Returning home to the Bunker underneath Balzac we disbanded.”

“Died? So how long has Reesa truly been dead for?” Speare asked.

“Reesa’s death is new. On the Martyrs there was six- Grizz, who looked like a human hybrid with a grizzly bear, Malcolm an albino man monster; Daemon, Natan, Sax and Reesa.  Grizz was the lad who died to ensure I was exorcised. The program was shut down. Everyone when their own way.”

John made some hand gestures to Slick, she nodded her head in the driver’s seat as the car left city limits and out towards a field between the city and Airdrie.

There was an old United Church that the car stopped in front of. John stepped out and motioned for both Slick and Speare to follow him. “I haven’t thought of this dark time in my life for a very long time, until of course Reesa came back a few months ago and somehow executed my family. Which I know in your mind Speare makes me suspect number one in her murder, but please, if I wanted her gone there would not be a body left.”

Speare could not argue with this logic, as John stepped behind the church sign and suddenly the parking lot opened up like hangar doors.

“Welcome to the Bunker.”

The Bunker at one point was a super-secret government installation beneath Balzac, AB, unfortunately with the building of Cross Iron Mills Mall the location became public knowledge (it is slightly east beneath the cinema). Regis was in the main command centre looking at the multiple screens showing shots of the country, and then the local security feed of the Bunker.

He absently scratched greying whiskers. McKay was next to him. “Any word on what’s going on with Doug?”

“Zed is in with him, looks like a psychotic break.”

McKay grunts. That would make sense, K had made a play to destroy the Street Avenger legacy, it was a dark time for heroes, and Jack Wulf stood the ground and won, but in the process his family was killed and brutalized in ways that should never be spoken of. This was during the time that Doug was believed dead, if he had come back to find out what had happened, or even after Jack had died defending the city years later, well… It was understandable in that moment that his mind and anchor in reality would snap.

The clean-up mission of Johnny Power and Speedster was going well. Yet no one had truly spoken out loud why Regis and MacCurtis were so concerned with getting the team back together as much as possible. What dire consequences awaiting the country, and them.

“So where is Saturn?” McKay asked.

Regis chuckled. “Seriously man, when he left retirement and vanished into Camelot, believed dead. Susah did not take kindly to that, he is still deciding if he wants in or not.”

“Massive loss of power and experience if he doesn’t join up.” Regis nodded to McKay’s assessment. Even with reports since the collapse of the other dimension, that the Bionic Knight was lower powered, it still was a set that the team needed, and a level of experience and wisdom they couldn’t easily replace. Especially with what was too come.

Meanwhile in another room of the Bunker a few more floors underground, Zed sits levitating in Lotus position at the side of the still unconscious Doug Katz. The man who had claimed the nom de plume, Mystery, and went catatonic at the mention of Street Avenger. But in his thousands of years of cursed immortality, Zed had learned a few things. One was a mixture of astral projection and possession, it just took acquiring the right tonal vibration with an unconscious subject.

The journey within the fractured psyche of Mystery could heal the man or drive them both madder…

To Be Continued