Uncle's Taxi Ride

I finished as a finalist in the newspaper's Halloween Fiction Contest! Okay, so I didn't win and you'll have to scroll down the page to the second to the last paragraph just to find my name mentioned among the twelve other writers in the article, but I'll take the ego boost. I think Billy Madison said it best:

And yes, that was my actual reaction. Anyways, I can't find my story on the newspaper's website so I guess they're not going to sue me for posting it myself. Happy Halloween!

Uncle's Taxi Ride

Through the chill-fogged windows, shapes manifested here and there within the mist, darting around the cab like the wind personified. Suddenly, a gust of wind hit the side of the taxi like a battering ram. Before the passengers could let out a scream another gust slammed the other side of the cab, rocking it off its wheels.

            The wind banged the cab around several more times before settling back to circling the taxi again. Mary and Lucas Connor peered out the windows, hoping to see something on the side of the mountain road through the frosted windows. Uncle, their taxi driver, assured the couple everything was alright and that they were close to their destination now, the most haunted spot on the island. “I like to think of the strong winds as spirits trying to get at our souls,” Uncle said with a raspy laugh.

            Lucas looked out his window, not seeing anything except the shadows slowly building in the fog. To him, the haunted places they visited today all lacked the same thing – a haunting. To him, the spookiest thing the isles offered wasn’t the places Uncle drove them to, but rather Uncle himself. The only thing he did know for certain was that Uncle was not his real name, and only because he told them. “Just call me Uncle,” he had said when they first got into his cab outside the hotel. “No one’s able to pronounce my real name anymore. It’s much too long and much too old.”

Mary spotted a handprint on the window. It was definitely an adult handprint, the palm impression slightly darker than that of the fingers. It wasn’t the normal, oily, greasy handprint on glass. Instead it looked as if the cold personified stamped its mark upon the glass. Curious, Mary placed her hand on the impression only to quickly pull back. It was cold, not just to the touch but to the soul – freezing her inside as well as out.

 “Looks like we’re here,” Uncle said without slowing the taxi. The scent of decay filled the cab, turning their eyes to Uncle. The man looked back at the Connors; his eyes glowed an eerie red and sank into his skull, like lava in a volcano pit, like the entrance into Hell. His skin began to pale, other parts yellowing, and some sections even peeling away to reveal the bone underneath. His white teeth, smiling in greeting, transformed into a predator anticipating a feast.

            Mary and Lucas screamed from the backseat of the cab. Inhuman laughter echoed through the cab, drowning out the screams of the passengers and the protests of the wind. The sound was enough to rattle the cab and unhinge Mary and Lucas Connor. Mary placed her hand on the glass, looking for an escape. Instead she felt the pressure of another hand coming from the other side of the glass. She screamed and withdrew, clutching onto Lucas for hope.

            Outside, the ghostly faces peered in, letting out inaudible screams. Some raced away back into the fog. Some stayed, banging themselves into the sides of the taxi. And the face closest to the glass, with defeat in its eyes, mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.” With that, the ghosts darted from the taxi as it disappeared into the mist.

            Later that night, a taxicab pulled into a mysteriously empty stall in the front of the hotel and Mary and Lucas Connor got out. Up on the sixth floor, the Lee family tried their best to sleep through the windstorm battering itself against the window. Outside, the Connor’s joined the others in their pounding and screaming, knowing well it was all the warning they could give, and knowing well it would go unheeded.

The Sovereignty (part 2)

I looked around behind the bar where we both hid. Blaine and I had been getting in and out of trouble since we were nine years old. There had to be a way out of this. If the bank found out we got involved in a bar fight, they would fire the both of us. Unlike Blaine who seemed to have no problem finding a job after moving to Central City, it took me three years after graduation, waiting at two different diners, several office temp jobs, and a couple months of unemployment before I could swallow my pride and ask Blaine to put a word in for me at the bank as a teller. I needed this job. Jeffrey would kill me if I couldn’t make rent for the third month in a row, or worse, kick me out of the apartment.

“How about helping us get the hell out of here instead of drinking every damn bottle you can get your hands on!” Blaine drained his current bottle. After taking a look around the back of the bar, he started tossing several small, glass containers at me.

I managed to catch a few of the vials while the rest shattered on the ground around me, scattering salt and pepper all over the ground. “Maybe you can blind them with those,” he said with a laugh. I tossed one of the shakers back at him and, reluctantly, decided to pocket a couple of the pepper shakers. It’s not like I had a better idea.

The neutralizing wave emitter in the cabinet caught my eye again. “I think I just found our way out of here,” I said. I yanked the box out of the cabinet and almost had a panic attack when the battery pack dropped out from the bottom. The light shut off and an energy blast shot over the bar and phased through the wall into the building next door. Quickly, I reconnected the battery pack and strapped it to the machine with my tie. I changed the range to 3 feet, hoping that the machine still had enough power to completely shut down all Powers at that range rather than just weakening them at 100 feet.

Blaine, unimpressed, shrugged and grabbed another beer from the cooler as well as putting a two more in his pockets. “I guess I can take these to go,” he said as he got to his feet and immediately took hold of the nearest Doppelganger clone. He liked to explain it as not pure mind control, but rather planting “suggestions” in someone’s mind (as far as he knew, he could only control one person at a time). The target could disobey, but the euphoria from following the command was so overwhelming and intoxicating that anyone on the receiving end didn’t want to defy them. He decided to send the clone charging straight into a group of Supers fighting amongst themselves. Apparently, by copying Captain Shield the clones also inherited some of his super strength because it took down at least seven other Supers behind them as well.

I jumped over the bar and was immediately punched in the face, dropping the box on the ground. My head snapped back and I tasted blood. Dizzy and blinded by a bright light, I reached around the bar, looking for the black box. I felt someone push me into the bar and tilt my head up.

“Wait!” I shouted, “I’m normal. No powers. Not a Super.”

I heard laughter until my eyes came into focus. Before me stood a Super dressed in an open red trench coat, completely unbuttoned and shirtless to reveal his toned physique. It was the shimmering, red gauntlet materializing around his right fist and forearm that caught my eye. “Looks like you picked the wrong day to wander into Gray’s Tavern, tourist.”

He swung his fist and the shimmering, red gauntlet headed for my head. As it got closer, I saw the little details put into the gauntlet and was impressed, like a swimmer is in awe of the shark’s teeth. The red material didn’t form just a single piece of armor, but a full-fledged gauntlet. The red material looked like solidified light as it created a solid piece along the forearm and back hand as well as dozens of tiny plates over the fingers to allow flexibility. Most impressive was the bonus spiked knuckleduster. I dodged at the last moment and the gauntlet collided with the bar behind me, exploding a section of the counter as well as cracking fissures in the far wall further back. My ears rang and I could feel the sting of splinters in my skin as I looked up to see the red gauntlet winding up for another punch.

            “Stop!” I closed my eyes and brought my empty hands in front of my face, bracing for death. Time passed. Too much time. I opened my eyes to see the shimmering, red gauntlet stopped inches from my face, shaking and struggling to surge forward as muscles rippled like they’d just hit a wall. The look on the Super’s face was blank except for a drugged smile. Blaine stepped out from behind him and grinned.

            “You did want him to stop, right?” He handed me a bottle he took from the bar and tapped two fingers on the Super’s forehead. “Come on. He’ll barely feel it.” He paused, smiled. “Until tomorrow, that is.” The Super started to sway and I wasn’t sure if it was from the euphoria of obeying Blaine’s command or if he was already trying to resist the mind control. Either way, he just tried to kill me knowing that I wasn’t a Super, I didn’t have any powers to fight him with. I forgot about the brawl going on around me and looked at the bottle in my hand. It asked to be smashed and the Super certainly deserved it. I lifted the bottle … and tossed it at the wall, spraying glass and beer on Supers with a lot more to be worried about at the moment.

I found the neutralizing ray on the floor and brought it close to the Super, shutting off his red armor. Blaine took control of another Captain Shield clone and ran him to into another group of Supers, giving us a straight line to the door. “By the way,” he said, “you also have that same stupid face when I use on you too.”

Before I could respond with a witty comeback of my own, we were out the door and in front of a squad of police cruisers and a dozen riot officers in full gear – body armor, neutralizing rifles, and disruptor shields. I dropped the box and slowly raised my hands in the air. From the corner of my eye, I could see Blaine raising two beer bottles he’d apparently snuck out with him. I let out a sigh of embarrassment but at least we were out. 

So it took a little longer than I planned but I finally got the second part finished and I promise I'll try to pick things up in the next part and get into the main story already. I'm already seeing some problems but I'm hoping I can fix those as I go. If you're wondering about the title (The Sovereignty) I'm hoping I can get to that in the next part or the part after that. And yes, there is a good excuse for taking so long: I finished a story for Halloween (I'm thinking about doing a theme short story depending upon the month or something like that) and the TV started its fall season of new shows and episodes and as one of my oldest friends, I feel an obligation to watch them. Also, its the MLB playoffs and though the Braves are out I'm still gonna watch the games I can.