Thursday, May 19, 2005

Surface City :: Lola

Lola


Detective Brock Krumm wasn’t an angry man by nature, but the circumstances of his life brought together all of the proper tools for making him into a rage-filled person. For the last nineteen years he’d been a cop, witness to some of the foulest goings-on of
Surface City. Of course he enjoyed his work, keeping the peace and all that jazz, yet he still had inkling in the back of his mind that he might have been cut out for something better in life. The Omni-Guard Academy propaganda does it’s best to shy away from the danger and the rigor of police work, and each year more gullible youths join the force hoping to make a difference. Admittedly there are fewer and fewer ‘upstanding citizens’ willing to make the sacrifice of family, friends and life to join the Guard each year.

‘If only they knew the true meaning of upholding the law,’ Krumm thought with a grimace. Two years ago to the day, he’d lost his partner and closest friend, Miles North. A friendship of seventeen years, snuffed out by one juiced up crazy with a gun. The crazy thug was of course never arrested, never charged, never found, the Guard didn’t even know the name of the murderer of one of it’s own! Ineptness at work. Brock had declined the Guard’s offer of a new partner; there would be no one to replace Miles, not in his mind. So Brock worked alone, trudging through mountains of paperwork from day to day, dealing with the shit that life as a cop always seemed to slam him personally. Unfortunately for Brock, the Surface City Police Force, officially named the Omni-Guard, was a lot like the mafia of old. Once you were in, there was no getting out. It was especially true nowadays, with the Guard’s labour crisis going on. It seemed there just weren’t enough concerned citizens anymore. Or maybe it was the high fatality percentage for rookie cops in this city that kept the new recruits away. Whatever the case, the Guard was short-handed, the perfect time for a veteran detective to be denied his right to retire after so many years of service. ‘Just more shit,’ he thought.

Dt. Krumm took a long drag from his cigarette as he peered out from his surveillance position, the position was in plain sight, Krumm of course was not. He was cleverly hidden away behind a camo-net masque, a nice piece of technology that bends visual light. Any minute now she’d be here; he’d been tracking this particular suspect for the past three months, she wasn’t going to get away again; Krumm was tired of explanations. The suspect’s name was unknown; she wasn’t a registered resident of Surface City as far as Government Inc. was concerned. Probably just an emigrated vestibule that made her way to Surface City hoping for a better life or a bigger score as the case was among thieves. Krumm had taken to calling her Lola, not for any exact reason he could put his finger on, the name just seemed to fit her, sometimes he’d daydream about what she’d be like if she were on his side of the law, and wondered if they could possibly be compatible with one and other. The woman was no fantasy however; she was a ruthless burglar, bent on claiming anything her pretty little mind could fathom. Lola was a remarkably good thief, so much so that she’d evaded the Guard, and in particular, Krumm, at least a dozen times in the past three months. Something about the way she operated was strange. Always alone, always in for the big score (an estimated 2.7 Million S.C.U.P.s and counting). It gnawed at Krumm to no end how she was able to escape every time they got close to her. She always seemed to know when Krumm and his fellow officers were right around the corner. A few times she seemed to vanish into thin air, Krumm was the skeptical type of cop, and he would not believe that he and his fellow Guard were so inept. In fact he refused to believe it.

Krumm glanced over his watch again, an anonymous tipper had informed them of a robbery going down at the Sector A1 Capital Bank, it was a huge target; being the centre of commerce this side of Surface City. The whole job smelled like a suicide attempt, exactly why Krumm figured that his ‘Lola’ would be here. He butted his cigarette and began to grow impatient; stakeouts were never his forte. His watch ticked closer and closer to 0200; the supposed time of the job. Krumm was not usually the type to accept an anonymous tip very often, but the woman on the holo-phone sounded so much like what he’d imagined Lola to sound like. The Guard’s headman Captain Thompson, had denied Krumm’s request for backup. Just like Thompson, the man seemed more bureaucratic then half of the suits down at the CORE. Krumm had always wondered why the captain had a stick up his ass, especially towards him. It all seemed to happen after Miles had been shot. That was a rough year for the Guard as a whole; they lost some 48% of all active duty officers that year. Krumm figured the captain was just as tired of all the bullshit that Surface City throws at us cops as he was. For whatever reasons the captain had for denying him backup, Krumm figured he would just go ahead and deal with it; just like everything else that life’s thrown at him, it stunk.

His thoughts broke suddenly as he noticed a single figure making their way towards the front entrance of the bank. It was quite dark; Krumm saw only a long trench coat loosely wrapped on a tall slim figure. He watched greedily hoping for a chance to catch his ‘white whale’. As the figure stepped into the light he caught a glimpse of long straight black hair and a tight white bodysuit, it was Lola. Krumm clenched his teeth in anticipation, this time she wouldn’t get away; he’d wait for her to go inside and then ambush her while she was in the act. He wasn’t afraid for his own safety; the whole time they’d been tracking Lola she’d never so much as hurt a single Guardsman, it was almost as if she was afraid. Or maybe she was a smart enough girl to keep her nose clean enough that no serious charges could be dropped on her should she ever failed to escape. Krumm didn’t care either way, as long as she wasn’t violent, then he wouldn’t have to be. He watched as Lola crept towards the main bank entrance. She bent over to inspect the doors and suddenly stopped in mid-motion. Krumm froze. Had he been made? Did she know he was watching? Impossible! He was equipped with the latest OG Camo-Net equipment. The small device bends the light around an immobile object, making it practically invisible. There’s no way she would have been able to see him through the dark. No way!

Lola turned exactly to where Krumm was sitting against a wall across the street. She seemed to be looking directly at him, but he didn’t dare move from the stare of those piercing ice blue eyes. There was a glint of pearl as she grinned at him, Krumm blinked and she was gone. He scrambled to his feet but she was no where to be seen. He ran into the street cursing himself under his breath, how had she seen him? How had she known? As he looked back to his previous location beside the wall he couldn’t even see the Camouflage Generator, a great hunk of smooth silver technology and it was camouflaging itself too well to be seen. So how had she known?! Krumm rubbed his eyes with both bewilderment and rage, wondering where to proceed from here he cursed himself under his breath again. As he reopened his eyes he noticed something on the ground, it was glowing bright red-orange but was quickly fading into the blackness of the night.

“Damnit!” He cursed, “You got me this time Lola, my own fault, but you got me.” He yelled into the blackness, being the commercial district that it was, and being that it was two o’clock in the morning, his rage fell on deaf ears. He bent down to pick up the fading ember of his cigarette, how could he have been so stupid? In the back of his mind however, he knew that he would catch Lola eventually, he just didn’t know when or how. Or even if it would cost him his life. Grim thoughts filled Dt. Krumm’s mind as he packed up the camo equipment and lugged it to his car four blocks east. This was not going to be easy to explain to Capt. Thompson. He’d messed up, made a stupid rookie mistake that he could have prevented if he had the sense. Krumm tossed the equipment onto the passenger seat of his vehicle violently. He got in and tried unsuccessfully to calm himself down.

“Another shitty day on the job since I lost you partner…” Krumm put away the photograph of his departed friend, suppressed his rage and made his way back to the CORE. Then the rain started.

Sunday, May 15, 2005

Surface City :: More than a Mouthful

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Update

This is an update post.

I am high.

Sunday, May 8, 2005

Drag

Just another little something I wrote in fifteen minutes. As always I didn't proof-read or correct any grammar. So fuck you.

My knuckles flexed on the leather bound steering wheel. The engine growled fierociously beneath us like a hungry predator, waiting. I revved the beast and watched the gauges on the dash flick to life. Opposite me in the lane sat another predator, it's chrome grill glinted in the moonlight. The other car revved to match my own actions. I could see the driver across from me, the moonlight sprang from his teeth as he sneared towards me. I returned my gaze forward, adrenaline flowing, I was ready. The only thing between us was a girl hold a blazing scarf. Seconds felt like hours as they dripped away quietly, the only sound was our dueling motors.

The scarf fell and immediately rubber gripped road and we flew off together. Streetlamps whizzed past, I watched the speedometer climb steadily, not fast enough. I pumped the clutch and upshifted, speed came easier, but it seemed my rival was yet faster. His beast streaked ahead of mine, a streak of yellow thunder. He passed the finish line first, the adrenaline faded into fear. I stopped the car, he approached quickly, an entourage of thugs behind him. The smell of exhaust hung heavy in the atmosphere as I extricated myself from the vehicle.

"You lose, Mr.Bradley," his reply was smug, and his look was deadly.

I lost. My car was gone now, it was over. He offered his hand to me, expecting only the keys to my beast. The one constant in my life was now going to be taken from me. NO! Not this way, that car was my life. In an instant I found my hand on the blade of my knife. The knife itself had found its way into the rival's stomach. Another flash and his thugs were on me, blood gave way to darkness and pain. It was over...

No need to worry about my car anymore.