Posts Tagged ‘City’


The announcement went off well. MacKay was happy to see his frenemy’s wife make the announcement while Rick was still missing. It was what happened in the square after that was shocking for that thing to have left the shadows and strike in mid-day light was not the usual scope.

If this was the United States of America the victim would’ve been described as a young co-ed. Truth is she was a first-year university student, first generation Canadian, Sheik judging from the female style turban. And eviscerated. A y-section on the chest like one would’ve used for an autopsy. MacKay flashed credentials he was impressed still worked currently of “non-officially sanctioned” heroics, but there was still respect for the old guard. Yes, the old guard that even rookies knew the story of MacKay’s crossover, during one of the major universal saves, and a well-placed shotgun blast that took out a Killer Face (numbers become irrelevant when triple digits get hit) and saved a hero’s life.

But the slashing violence of this death. The young constable is grey. MacKay wipes some sweat away from his brow, and acknowledges how naked he feels being out and about without his usual double barrel sawed off. But he checks the young man’s badge. Larpe.

“Constable Larpe. Special Agent William MacKay of G.C.F. division. This is an old murderer resurfaced.” MacKay said. He quickly flips open his phone, and hits a speed dial.

“Zed, MacKay. Get the kids together.”

The Constable is on his radio calling it in. The sirens are creating a vibration throughout the downtown core. The thunder clap means rain, and rain means that evidence will soon be washed away. But evidence is not what is needed at this point and time.

A touch on his shoulder, MacKay whirls to swing and stops short. “Bill.” Susan said.

MacKay grimaced. She had heard the scream and crossed the road like he had after the announcement. Showing why she should win at being mayor. Her eyes see the body and don’t even blink as soon first responders are everywhere. The psychic flash dances across her eyes. MacKay knows she already has seen the energy signature.

“You coming Susie?” MacKay asked.

Susan looks at her old friend. And knows what he knows. The ancient evil is back. Re-manifested as it knows the PenDragon is absent.

To Be continued…

 

 

 

 


Walt Longmire. Leichtman (Lie to Me); Sherlock (from Elementary); Sherlock (from Sherlock); Spenser; Jesse Stone; Rake and Patrick Jane (Mentalist) were his type of main characters.  Susan chuckled at the thought as she stood on the steps. She clearly stated he had a type, Rick would always deny it saying what is so similar about them all? She pointed to the A-hole with a golden heart scenario.

Every time before he had vanished, over the last few decades…five for sure the world thought he was dead.  Each time he claimed her as his lightning rod. The Lois Lane to his Superman (thanks to the New 52 there may be a generation that will never get that reference) or the Linda Park to his Wally West (Flash). Every time he spoke the simple mantra, Bionics On; or leapt into some social justice war zone (literal and figurative) for his life as a journalist.

Twins. Special needs. One income through a dying entity—the free press. Now conglomerated and shrinking, the City news room continually being shrunk. Yet Rick Saturn survived.

Until their Mayor died.

The mayor, John MacCurtis. Childhood friend. The three of them dubbed the Three Musketeers; the Scooby Gang of Canadian Super Heroics as she back benched the Bionic Knight and PinBall. Then later The Bionic Knight and Bionic Archer. Then de-powered Archer, sought a life, was married, had a child, a dog…ran for mayor. Revealed to the world the truth of who he was.

And won.

Stood over as the heroics turned dark.

Stood with the re-united Great Crime Fighters and revealed the PinBall was live again.

John MacCurtis.

Mayor. Possessed by an alien entity. Finally, freed. Died. Rick believed at his friend’s grave his spirit spoke to him unsettled.

Cashed in savings.
Took a leave of absence.

Rick began a quest to free his friend to eternal rest or new life.

Susan pushed the blue hair out of her eyes. Staring up at the steel and glass building that reflected sunlight. Fresh rain beaded off. News cameras always were around. Always a free podium. How John would use these vultures to get things done for the better.

Money had run out at home.

Interim mayor has been arrested on embezzlement charges.

Election time according to Municipalities act is stipulating the time for election is nigh after four years with no incumbents.

Rick promised he would return. Promised it would work out.

Now there was no musketeers.

Just her.

And a city that needed help.

Kids that needed a Mum with a job.

Susan wipes the tear from her eye. Chasing John’s ghost took her soul. “But I’ll be damned if he’ll take my love.”

Susan steps to an empty podium, pulls off the white sheet covering it from the rain. A reported looks at her, she nods. Taps a microphone to a burst of static.

More turn.

“Hello, my name is Susan Kobwash-Saturn. You knew my friend, John MacCurtis as a hero and your mayor. You read my husband in the Chronicle as he battled for what was right. Today I honour both of their lives. Today I look at our amazing city, and realize it is not the city that I grew up in. It is not the city that I want to continue to raise my daughters in. I could just leave, but that is not the answer. No. I want tmy city back. So today I take the first step in reclaiming this city for its citizens. Today I Susan Kobwash-Saturn, put the big money candidates on notice. Today I am running to be your mayor.”

In the far back in a lumber jack jacket with well worn wrangler jeans, a grizzled looking man with long salt and pepper hair watches the announcement. A sheep skin work glove takes a half smoke cigar from his mouth. His one good eye winks at the lady on the stage unknown to her. He lets out a guttural chuckle and ponders that fifteen years ago it was this spit fire that had driven the tip of a dagger through his left eye to save the life of the Bionic Knight and changed the course of his life from villain to hero.

William “Shotgun” MacKay tips his fedora as he walks away from the reporters shouting questions at someone he once wished dead who had become a friend. “Bout time ya lived your passion Susie.”

The Election Begins…

As the storm rolls back after dark…

As in a public plaza an woman watches a man.

A flash of steel.

A scream.

To Be Continued…

Chapter Thirteen

Posted: October 8, 2016 by Ty in Speare 3: Thor v. Zeus
Tags: , , , , ,

Natan was down. Interesting his blood was blue and spreading on the laminate of the office. The bullet had taken him in the right shoulder. In one fluid motion Sax raised his bow, it had been years but like riding a bike the arrow was loosed through Slick’s gun hand sending the weapon flying. A yelp escaped her lips.

Speare’s hand tightened around the war hammer.

Slick’s good hand produced a second gun, she was an ambidextrous shooter and it was aimed squarely at Speare. Sax had another arrow knocked.

MacCurtis looked at his bodyguard and to the two still standing. Natan appeared to be entering shock. His eyes had rolled back in his head and he was mumbling something that sounded Latin.

“Welcome boys, it has been a while Sax and Natan, Speare you were always a beard on this enterprise.” MacCurtis said.

A beard? A set up. A diversion. A jive. Something to distract. Time Speare thought to put some cards on the table. “Slick, or do you prefer Reesa?”

“Reesa’s dead Speare, my Dad always thought you were a wank—“She did not get to finish her sentence as a red lightning bolt sliced through her chest.

Red energy began crackling around MacCurtis, his eyes moved to a solid blue colour and his hair and beard began growing. Sax let the arrow fly and another. They turned to dust before clearing the room. “It is time you boys lived up to the name Martyrs.”

Natan’s mumbling in Latin grew louder.

“So MacCurtis or is it now Thor?” Speare asked.

“There is no difference. That child thought he had stripped us apart, yet forgot that the entity and host are one.” MacCurtis laughed out loud. “And the best part is that you will die Speare as the nice bow on top of this gift of renewal.” Blue energy shot from MacCurtis’ eyes but stopped three inches away. Shock was on his face.

Plan part one, Natan’s spell contained. Speare raised the hammer, and another piece of shock crossed the Mayor-Entity’s face. Speare winked. “We are ready to rock.”

“You truly think this plan of Zeus’ will work and this little spell from the seed of Lucifer will hold!” MacCurtis yelled.

Speare moved quickly across the room. An alarm went off and sprinklers started. Smoldering flesh of Slick had created a smoke hazard and triggered the fire alarm. Media would be here soon, not every day there is a fire at City Hall. Sax would be good on trying to spin a cover story if this worked.

The hammer slammed square into MacCurtis’ chest and knocked him hard against the windowed wall of the office. Cracks started to appear. Speare knew if he fell through he would escape the containment spell. Which would create a huge issue.  This whole adventure had started out like a warped Spenser novel, but had quickly deteriorated into something from the mind of Alan Moore or Clive Barker.

Speare hated the supernatural, it was never clean and easy to solve this problem. Mix that crap in with alien sci-fi junk and it was a bad day at the office. Speare crouched low and upper cut with the top of the hammer. “You have no clue ya bastard how much I have this occult-sci-fi shit.”

MacCurtis was dazed. This was going to take finis to use the spike on top, the dazed man, Natan was still using the incantation so all the lightning was swirling around him.  Sax exhaled slowly he still had an arrow trained on MacCurtis’ eye just on the off chance something went askew.

Blood was trickling from MacCurtis’ mouth, and his teeth were loose, a loogie of blood and a few teeth splattered against the shield. “You shall be the Martyrs of my rise to power. This world will be mine.”

Sax burst out laughing. “Dude every night I make love to the supposed Anti-Christ, you jack ass ain’t no world dominator.” He let the arrow fly. Natan winked.

The arrow pierced the one solid blue eye. Speare double gripped the handle of the war hammer and from the crouch drove upwards with the spiked hammer into the entity’s heart. Releasing the handle as MacCurtis fell backwards into the already cracked window through and down wards from seven stories up to the plaza below. Speare and Sax moved towards the shattered window and peer down at the body now impressed into cracked concrete with gawkers, smart phones recording, sirens wailing and phone calls happening.

Natan’s voice subsides.

Sax looks to Speare.  “It is nights like this that remind me why I just want to sell books.”

 

 


Lightning cascaded across the sky. John stroked his formerly salt and pepper, now more salty beard.  “Zed, old friend, is it truly time for this to end.” No answer came. He had a long life. Many lives over many different types of stories, there was moments as he watched the rain fall that he truly felt he was living more inside a comic book than the real world with the types of adventures he had.

His smartphone vibrates, MacCurtis glances down, Rick Saturn, lifelong friend. But in this moment he did not see him as his a friend or even the partner he was in the old Great Crime Fighter days, but as a reminder of where John was now. Alone, and waiting for those he once called proteges that he led into a life of mayhem and murder. Who knew the murder of Reesa would start the end game, then finding the body of Daemon in the gutted bunker, and now Malcolm dead as well. Just Sax and Natan left.

Much more death than when Thor had control of him, yet there was something more to be thought of in all this.  From the corner of his eye he notes Jacqueline moving from the couch in his office towards him. “Going to answer that boss?”

John just shakes his head. It shocked him to find out that the crazy former agent Jake “Shades” Slick had a daughter, he always thought the man whore was infertile or at the very least was smart enough to get a vasectomy. But here was proof.

The phone’s annoying ring tone that was a factory setting signals Rick had left a voicemail. John looks to the clock on the phone, 15 minutes until the kids arrival. The last of the Martyrs, who depending on what one believed about the murderers in the last several days were living up to their names.

“Remember the plan Jacqueline, when they walk in…”

“I shoot them both and drop the extra guns so it looks like I stopped an assassination attempt, but what about Speare boss?” She asks.

John chuckles. “Speare is an idiot, we will easily pay him off.” The thunder cracked loudly and the lights dipped. The Mayor wondered if the privatized energy companies were screwing around with the power grid once more. One of the worst things Ralph Klein ever did on the day California proved de-regulated/privatized power didn’t work, was to then follow through blindly, the one thing he hoped by being in office was to follow the money in the city to see who got the pay offs for the privatization. Unfortunately the tracts were covered to well.

Another flickering, what was the term—brown out?

A loud crack. The room was bathed in lightning.

3 new forms?

Then blackness.

A thud. A bullet shot.

Speare felt the stickiness of blood on his cheek as another flash of lightning illuminated the room. “Oh shit.”


An immortal sociopathic alien entity has been playing with the lives of Supras and Canadians for many years. Years ago, Speare’s friend’s husband came back from the Purgatory between H’el and Valhalla having sacrificed his physical health to vanquish the entity and release its hold on one John MacCurtis, the current mayor of the city.

Yet a string of murders starting with a mystery lady named Reesa has laid the ground work that this entity is not vanquished, and there is a strong possibility that the first victim is actually alive, under an assumed name as the mayor’s hired gunsal, and well, said hired gun was actually carrying the current resurrected sociopathic entity.

This was confirmed in a night meeting, in a closed urban garden with the immortal alien entity known colloquially as Zeus, but the past 40 years had been the hero to Canada known as Zed. The monk that had opened a gap in time and space to reveal a weapon that may do what Natan had been unable to do in the in between.

Zed held the ancient war hammer of the mythological Norse God of Thor. It was tipped with a spike.

Natan smiled at his lover as he reached for it. “Run him through and poof.”

Zed nodded, “but first you have to get him to leave his host and face you as himself.”

Sax looked to Speare, “basically abandoned the one we believe to be Reesa.”

“What happens when this thing leaves a host?” Speare asked.

Natan cracked his knuckles.  “It de-aged MacCurtis, but he was alive when he was possessed, erased most of his memories of the time, until the reawakening of the Great Crime Fighters the past few years.”  Speare nodded, others dubbed it the renewal of hope, but same thing when the true heroes came back. “However if Reesa were dead when taken possession of, there would be but dust left.”

Natan advances towards Zed, “I will finish it this time.”

Speare sidesteps swiping the hammer. Zed laughs. “No, Nate, look you and Sax have a chance at living a life without boundaries, let your love shine. This is the crap I do for my pay cheque.”

It is Sax’s turn to laugh. “You actually think if you pull this out the mayor will pay you?”

“It’s an election year, there is nothing like occult and alien conspiracy in the office to drive paying of invoices on time to ensure proper cover up.” Speare said.

“Speare, I failed the first time to end Thor, I need to finish it.” Natan said.

Speare simply shook his head and hefted the hammer. “No.”

“How will you get him out of, what does she call herself currently, Slick?” Natan asked.

Speare paused, he had not thought that far ahead rather than just try his normal annoying ways to goad the entity to hopefully striking out and creating an opening.  The truth was Speare was more focused on keeping Sax’s husband alive so they could enjoy the weird spontaneous healing this case had inexplicably brought for him, rather than having him come even remotely close to tangling with this thing again.

A quick glance back and Zed had pulled a Batman.

From inside his coat pocket Natan pulls out a smart phone and swipes across John’s number. “MacCurtis, Sax and I need to see you at your office, 30 minutes. Someone murdered Malcolm.”

Some things Speare had not thought out on stopping, that phone call was one. 30 minutes to end game.

 

Prologue

Posted: April 3, 2016 by Ty in Speare Book 2: They're Back
Tags: , ,

Speare sipped his coffee reading through Charles Fillmore’s 12 Powers of Man as Walt Disney’s Robin Hood (1973) droned on his flat screen. It always astounded him how this movie informed a generation yet Walt Disney corporation did nothing to continually promote it like other movies. Were they afraid of inspiring generations of those that actually y’know cared about others and not just the mass accumulation of wealth no matter the human cost to get there as the be all and end all of life.

His cell phone absently vibrated, he despised the use of ringers so kept it on vibrate constantly, flipped the device open (he also did not trust Smart Phones to keep his information safe).  The vibration was a good one it was a call from the Mayor’s office. The PI biz had been a bit (a lot) slow since the Church affair.

“Speare Investigations how may I direct your call.”

“Speare, we know there is only you in your apartment/office and no secretary.”

Ah the lovely mayor, Speare had known Daemon Jones for years. “Shoot Daemon what do you want?” Speare picks up the remote and pauses the DVD making sure there’s a book mark in his book. The line almost sounds like it has gone dead or his phone dropped the call.

“They’re back.” Mayor Jones states.

Speare feels the hairs on the back of his neck prick up, and some small goose bumps form on his flesh at that statement.