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Book I: Interlude 6: Dillon Maxwell

  Interlude 6: Dillon Maxwell

  Huntsville, Texas

  Date Unknown

  "Well, Sparky is a b—" again, Potter was on the beach with those two kids, laughing at me. Even Rappel and Granite were laughing at me. "Well, well, is that you Sparky? Sparky… such a lame-ass name. Heh, my bad. I think I recall telling the PRT that was what you called yourself, guess they decided to go with it…"

  Anger and rage swept over me, I'd show them. I'd show them all. I reached out with my power, and arcs of lightning vaporized all the laughing faces.

  A loud noise cleared the fog from my mind. I open my eyes and stare at the bare, gray cement ceiling overhead. That dream, again. It's trying to tell me something.

  "Power use detected, behavior evaluation period has been reset." A loud computerized voice came out of the speaker in the ceiling.

  "Fuck! That's not fair, I was dreaming!" God damn it. The dreams never triggered my power before. I sit upright in the bed and see singe marks on the mattress, the tinker-tech grounding chains on my hands' rattle and clank against the metal bed frame of the cot in my cell. I kick them out of the way so I can stand up.

  There was food on the shelf behind the wall slat; today's breakfast. It was all shoved to the far edge of the shelf though. Fucking guards brought it while I was sleeping. I reach for it but am stopped short by the chains on my arms which are also attached to the floor. A couple of slices of plain toast, a plastic cup of milk, and an orange are just inches beyond my reach.

  "You fucking assholes! Move my goddamn food to where I can reach it!"

  "Quit yer yammerin', Sparky" An echoing voice rolls in from down the hall.

  "Fuck you, Sonic" I hate that name. Potter, that was it. I hadn't paid attention to that before. In the dream, he said he told the PRT that it was what I was calling myself, but I never told the PRT that during that brief bit they had me in the camps after I triggered. That was a nickname that Rappel gave me when I couldn't make up my mind about what I wanted to use.

  "You slept in late, the guards ain't made a patrol in a few hours," Sonic says, in his echoing drawl.

  I move over toward the tiny glass window in my cell door, lean as far as my chains allow me, and look out to an empty hallway. "Where the hell are they?"

  "Fuck if I know," Sonic says, his voice reverberating off the walls.

  Asshole. The guards wouldn't have fucked with my food if I had been awake. The only damn reason I slept in late and missed getting breakfast was that Sonic always made the damn walls shake when he snores.

  I pace around the floor. Goddamn behavioral reset, even when he wasn't here, Potter somehow managed to fuck me over. I only had a week left, now I gotta wait 7 more days to get out of solitary. So how the fuck did Potter know Rappel nicknamed me Sparky and then told that to the PRT? Rappel only came up with it that morning, and said it just to me and Granite, but the PRT was already calling me that a few days later after we hi-jacked a boat to get off the island. Except for those fucking kids that keep showing up in my dream. They heard it, they…. One of those fuckers is Potter.

  An ineffectual blast of lightning shoots out of my hands and ground out through the chain into the floor.

  "Power use detected, behavior evaluation period has been reset. This is your second warning." The speaker above me drones out.

  "Hehe, somethin' got you all worked up eh?" I hear Sonic laugh through the walls.

  My stomach growls, I slam my shackled hands down on the food shelf hard enough to bruise them and bounce my food off onto the floor. The milk spills everywhere, but the toast soaks some of it up, and the orange rolls to my feet. I pick it up and reach out with my food to slide the toast to within reach. I pick it up, brush off the dirt, and eat it.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  I'll get them all. More reason to escape now, even if it means the birdcage if I get caught. Granite too, fucker sold me out to make a deal, I bet he pretending to be a hero now in some far off city by another name. They couldn't pin Rappel on me, no evidence, and I made sure his body was nothing but ash. Fucker was all talk and no game, tried to control me, I showed him. I took over his gang and made them do real actions instead of bullshit talk. But now look at me, stuck in here. They found too much other shit I did, even before I got powers. But I still got my ace. They're still fucking clueless about what else I can do, that I'm nothing but a Blaster. I just need to get out of solitary, recruit some others that are willing to risk getting out of here, Birdcage be damned. Boost the right person with the right powers, and we'll bust out easy. Maybe Browner, or Catapult. Hell, I bet if boosted Sonic he could vibrate the walls till they came crashing down. If only I could touch him. If only I could get these fucking chains off. If only I could….

  "Ahem." A voice came on over the speaker. That wasn't the warden. Who was this fucker? "I'd normally say Ladies and Gentlemen, but there's no ladies or gentleman here."

  "Hey, I'm a lady! So is Sibby! And Flux!"

  That sounded like a little girl's voice. What the hell is going on? Why would there be a kid in here? Where the hell are the guards? The solitary section is sound-proofed, so I have no idea what's going on top-side.

  "Ah, yes Riley dear, too true, but it was a figure of speech and I was referring to the prisoners. Anyway, If I could have your attention, please. My friends and I are having a little contest. Very shortly they'll be coming along to open the doors. Don't get too excited now though, we only have room for two winners. Everyone else, if they survive, gets to be the distraction."

  "Somebody's attacking the prison" Sonic's voice reverberates. "Lots of tremors coming from topside."

  "Nah, I think somebody already succeeded in taking it over or they wouldn't have had access to the intercom system." It also explains why the guards missed their patrols this morning. I just hope we don't get forgotten about down here.

  "So long as they open these doors too," Sonic rumbles in agreement, then the lights go out.

  It's pitch dark, my hands are still tied, but I generate a sparkling glow. The intercom doesn't scream about me using my power this time, but it still grounds out into the floor, even when I up the juice by a lot.

  "Lots more tremors coming from top-side again" Sonic echoes through the walls again.

  Several minutes later, I'm still unable to melt the chains, but I hear the sound of wrenching metal and footsteps coming down the hall. I dial it back down to just a glow so I can see, and move away from the door as far as my chains let me. A pale white face with cat eyes peers into my cell door's tiny window then disappears. A loud screeching explosion sounds out and a black and white arm bursts through the door as if the two inches of steel it was made from wax paper instead. Then the arm grabs the edge of the broken metal and just pulls, peeling it back to make a bigger hole. The other arm joins it and rends the door apart, revealing a naked, black and white striped woman.

  Fuck it was the Nine.

  The Siberian steps through the hole and looks at me. I hold up my chains. Fuck it, even if it was the Nine, what else have I got to lose? I was already willing to risk the Birdcage on escaping this place.

  She reaches down and grabs a grounding chain in each hand and squeezes them as if they were sticks of butter until they come apart. Then she lets go and steps back through the hole in the door. My arms were free. Chains are still on my wrists but I was free. She gestures and I follow her into the hallway.

  She rips apart Sonic's door as well, the man steps out, it was the first time I had ever laid eyes on him. He was fat, shaped like a barrel on legs, and bald. Soon we make our way up the stairs. I notice the signs of fighting, blood, and a few body parts though-out the complex as we head toward the dining hall. Sonic and I stand around a dozen other Parahumans that are incarcerated here. The Siberian leaves to head up the stairs toward the warden's office. None of the normal prisoners were present, the reason why was scattered through-out the room.

  A man in a white shirt, jeans, cowboy hat, and boots, steps out onto the Warden's observation deck. A little girl in a blood-stained apron, the Siberian, and two others follow out to stand beside him. One is a faceless giant robot, the other is a woman with limp fire-red hair, glassy eyes, and pale dead-looking flesh. She is barely obscured by half-molten looking colored blobs of glass, and a weird metal frame attached to all of her limbs. A weird growth looks like it is sewed onto the backside of one shoulder.

  "Hello," the man in the cowboy hat said. "No that's not right, I should say 'Howdy'? That's what you all… y'all… say here in Texas right? I'm trying to fit the part. Anyway, for those that have not figured it out yet, my name is Jack Slash." A murmur goes through the crowd, a crowd that is far smaller than the prison's actual population. "I see at least some of you have heard of me. These are my associates, Bonesaw, The Siberian, Mannequin, and Flux. Crawler and Hatchet Face are outside. We're recruiting, so here are the rules…"

  I'm going to do whatever is required to survive this and get the hell out of here. Then I’m gonna find Potter, Granite, and everyone else that wronged me.

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