Rogue Telekinetic – Cowboy Cadillac

Jack Davis slowed his car to a stop at the red traffic light. He spotted the elderly woman as she pushed her walker into the street. Her foot shook as it left the sidewalk and she stepped on the first of several white stripes of the crosswalk.

The low rumble rose from behind Jack, and he shifted his eyes to the rear-view mirror. He spotted the large red pickup truck as it loomed next to him in the adjacent lane. Jack pivoted his head to look in the cab at the large driver with a shaved head.

Jack noted of excessive use of chrome on the outside of the vehicle. He saw the gun rack with a two-by-four nestled on one set of hooks. The red fabric of a rebel flag draped over the head rests of the seat. Jack also made out the heavy beat of loud music.

With a heavy sigh, Jack turned his attention back to the old woman crossing the street.

The old woman progressed to the halfway point of Jack’s car. The white walking figure on the sign shown bright on both posts. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack noticed the driver of the pickup truck turn and look at the old woman. A smile spread across the fat face of the truck driver. That smile shifted a laugh and finally a guffaw.

Jack raised an eyebrow.

The older woman inched further along her path. The woman paused in her palsied journey for a few breaths when she passed Jack’s car.

Jack spotted the shoulder of the truck driver twitch. It twitched again. A loud sound, reminiscent of a train horn pierced the air. Jack jumped in his seat and he turned to look at the old lady.

The old lady slumped on her walker, her shoulders heaving. Jack saw the head of the old woman look at the truck driver. The old woman’s legs flexed and then her feet gripped the asphalt as she moved forward.

The timer displayed on the crosswalk poles. It blinked the last of the double digits.

The old woman started her journey once again.

Watching the fat man in the truck laugh, Jack breathed in deep and let it out slow. He focused on the large, shiny, passenger-side mirror. With a swift nod, the mirror separated from the truck and crashed to the ground. Next Jack shifted his gazed to the two hubcaps he could see. In unison, they collapsed on themselves, then fell off the wheels.

Jack’s next focus point was the rear-view mirror in the truck. It fell without making a sound. The truck driver pivoted his head from the old lady, to his fallen mirror. He leaned down, and Jack target the other side mirror. As if in a movie, the mirror fell as the truck driver sat up holding the rear-view mirror in multiple pieces.

Jack saw that the old lady finished her journey across the road. She hadn’t stepped onto the sidewalk, but the lights shifted to allow the drivers to progress.

Jack winked at the windshield of the truck. Spiderweb cracks appeared, making the entire screen opaque.

Seeing the elderly lady on the sidewalk, Jack inched passed the unmoving pickup truck. With a sideways glance at the front grill, Jack pictured the wench and chrome brush guard on the ground. The clang of metal on asphalt echoed in the downtown area.

Jack drove through the intersection and turned into the parking garage. The truck driver stood outside of his vehicle shaking and scratching his head.

With a nod from Jack, steam erupted under the hood of the once impressive pickup truck. Jack continued on into the parking garage and headed to work.


“Now,” David asked. “You need me to do this now?” David rolled his eyes, as he activated his turn signal. “I’m gonna be late.”

“Late for what,” Daniel asked. “You’re on your way home.”

David let out an exaggerated sigh. “I have a date,” he glanced at his dashboard clock. “In twenty minutes.”

“This shouldn’t take long,” Daniel said. “I just have to be seen walking out of my office and into the elevator.”

“Fine, but it’ll cost ya,” David turned again and zoomed through the yellow light. “I figure a c-note should cover it.”

“What! That’s highway robbery.”

“No, that’s paying for services rendered.” David pulled into the parking garage, handed the attendant a ten, then continued driving. “Deal, or I turn around and leave.”

“Fine,” Daniel sighed. “Right hand drawer. Just a hundred.”

“Good. I’m parked.” David pressed the hang-up button and got out of his car. Standing the parking garage made him uncomfortable.

“You ready,” David jumped as Daniel appeared next to him.

“I hate it when you do that,” David reached for the bundle in Daniel’s hands. “Just the shirt and tie. The rest won’t be noticed.”

“What ever. Just change,” Daniel said and pulled his dark-green cowl over his head. “It shouldn’t take more than three minutes.”

David pulled his shirt off and swapped it with the one he was handed. The tie was still looped, but he tightened it around his neck. He held his hand up to stall Daniel. David shoved his hands into the waist of his pants, pulling the shirt-tails with it. David nodded when he was ready.

Daniel grinned and grabbed his identical twin and zipped up to his open window.

David plopped into the soft leather chair and ran a hand through his wind-swept hair. “I’m leaving in three minutes.”

“Fine,” Daniel said. “I’m off, and thanks.” He waved to his brother and jumped from the window. His power kicked in and he flew out towards the danger he was called for.

“Twins my ass,” David said. “He got the power and the attitude. I got the brains.” He reached for the right hand drawer and pulled. Inside were papers, small trinkets, and a manilla envelope. Taking the envelope, David pulled a hundred-dollar bill out and folded it into his pocket. “Plus tip,” David repeated the process with a twenty.

After counting to one hundred, David stood from the chair. He grabbed the leather valise and walked out the door.

“See ya tomorrow, Marie,” David said to Daniel’s secretary.

Marie looked up from her computer and did a double take. Her lips moved but carried no sound, “David.”

“OK, Mr. Tabbert,” Marie smiled to herself.

The Cleaners

Mike looked at the plain wooden door. There was no sign to say this was Yeltza’s Cleaners. He pulled the doorknob and strode in.

The white counter showed a cash register and a metal pole holding various clothes wrapped in plastic.

“Just a minute,” sounded from the depths of the back.

“At least no one else is-”, Mike’s words stopped on his lips as he looked to his left at the row of seats. One other person sat, holding a ticket.

“Don’t worry,” the guy pointed to the items hanging on the pole. “You can’t see through the plastic. Custom made.”

Mike looked at the hanging clothes. Staring directly at the rack revealed a grey blob with shadowy colors.

“Good to know,” Mike muttered, rocking back on his heels.

“First time?” The seated figure placed on of his ankles over a knee.

“No,” Mike answered. “I get my ummm…uniform cleaned here all the time.”

“So do I,” the seated man smiled. “I take it you have someone else that takes care of it.”

“OK, you got me,” Mike said with a smile on his face.

“I used to have that,” the seated man said nodding towards an empty chair. “Then she left me.”

“Oh,” Mike moved to sit in a chair. “That’s too bad. Tough break.”

“Yeah,” the other man sighed. “Better all around, though.”

“Here ya go, Kevin. Good as new.”

A small man approached the counter. He climbed a stepstool, and placed the two items on the hook at the top of the pole.

“Thank you, Nate,” Kevin, the man in the chair, stood and took the hanger off the pole. He flipped the bag open on the bottom. A heavy jacket with a bright red skull emblazoned on it flashed into view.

Mike’s eyes went wide. “Skullcap,” he whispered. Mike’s mouth formed another word but it never left his mouth.

“See ya,” Steve waived then opened the door and left.

“You got yer ticket?” Nate held out a hand to Mike.

“Yeah,” Mike stood and handed the paper over. “That was Skullcap.”

“Who cares,” Nate read the ticket. “He’s a good customer. Comes here all the time.”

“He’s one of the leaders of the Bridge,” Mike looked at the door again.

“I don’t care. He pays picks his cleaning up on time,” Nate tossed the ticket on the counter. “Unlike you. Your stuff’s here. Been here for a week.”

Nate reached for the clothes on the pole.

“Oh, I’ve been busy,” Mike said as he reached for the hangers.

“I don’t care,” Nate waved a hand. “Pick your stuff up on time and pay your bill. That’s all I care about.”

“Fine.” Mike reached for the covers. “Did you get the burn marks off?”

“Of course,” Nate growled. “This is the cleaners. We clean clothes.”

“Good,” Mike let the plastic flow over the silver sickle on his costume. He pulled the small fold of bills out of his wallet and handed them to Nate. “Thank you.”

Tossing the clothes over his shoulder then walked outside. “Glad Skullcap didn’t see my costume. I’m gonna have to find a new cleaner.”

Special Delivery – Jason

Jason Cromwell arrived on the scene. He stepped from the red and white colored emergency vehicle. Approaching the group of officers, Jason said, “EMT from Special Delivery.” The officers held the tape up for him to pass under. He looked around. There was no sign of a fight or even a simple struggle. Taking a quick glance at his wrist panel, he saw his client’s marker five feet away.

“What is Special Delivery doing here?” Detective Collins said as he turned towards Jason. “There’s no supers here. Not even an indication of one.” Collins spread his hands as he turned.

“Collins, how nice,” Jason flashed a plastic smile at the detective. “You know how we work. One of our alarms went off and a tracker led me here.”

Collins turned back to the body and pointed. “This must be your guy.” He squatted and lifted the orange blanket covering the body. “I don’t suppose you have a name?”

“Ummm…”, Jason read his wrist panel. “No.” Narrowing his eyes, Jason re-read the information. Client 15.

“What do you mean no?” Collins shifted next to Jason and looked at the wrist panel. “Client 15. What kind of name, super or otherwise, is that?”

“A wealthy one,” Jason locked eyes with the detective and smiled. “And a dead one.”

“Not to mention naked,” Collins held the blanket back so that Jason could see the entirety of the corpse.

“Interesting,” Jason said standing up. “Just a minute.”

Walking a few paces away, Jason tapped his earpiece. “Control, this is Jason Cromwell. I’m at the location of Client 15. He’s deceased and not wearing any clothes. Do you still want me to bring him in?”

“Correct EMT Cromwell,” the voice in Jason’s ear said. “He paid for the privilege until the end. He gets the privilege.”

“Understood,” Jason let his hand fall and turned back to Collins.

“I guess you have him,” Detective Collins said extending a clipboard. “Just sign here.”

Jason sign his name on the form.

Next, Jason focused on the body and envisioned it floating. Just as he pictured a gurney under the corpse carrying it, the body lifted with no visible support. Jason then walked, pushing the body, back to his customized emergency vehicle. The rear double-doors opened of their own accord and Jason slid the body in, feet first.

With a quick wave, Jason entered his vehicle and drove off.

Jason stopped at the building his wrist panel indicated. If he didn’t know better, he would have said it was vacant. The outside was clean and there weren’t any broken windows, but there was one only one other car in the lot.

He pulled around the back and found a set of double-doors propped open. Jason backed the vehicle up to the doors. Next, he transported the body to a waiting gurney.

Walking through the double doors, Jason pushed the body. “Hello?” Jason to called. “EMT Cromwell from Special Delivery.” Jason hung his head and smiled to himself. Now he caught the joke.

“This way,” a voice called, and a light flashed on in a room down the small hallway.

Jason kept walking towards the room. “Why do we need to bring a corpse here? What’s wrong with the morgue.”

A figure stepped out of the room. “Because Client 15 paid for the privilege.”

Jason now recognized the voice. It was the one he talked to before.

Letting out a sigh, Jason turned the gurney into the room.

The man pulled the doors closed behind him as Jason settled the corpse under the light. “Doc, would it be OK if I watched? I’ve never seen an autopsy.”

“By all means, EMT Cromwell,” the doctor smiled flatly. “My name is Doctor Emit Reymark. This is the autopsy of Client 15. Present is EMT Jason Cromwell. Let’s begin.”

Jason looked around to see what the Doctor was doing, but he saw nothing.

“The body has several contusions and abrasions,” Reymark said as he ran his gloved hands over the body. “There are old scars, some required stitches.”

Jason looked at the body where Reymark was examining. He saw scars covering the body and arms. Checking the legs, he saw the same type of scarring. There were fresh bruises and other residue covering it as well.

“Client 15 appears to have been a recipient of a severe beating. And possibly engaged in activities such as fighting, martial arts, and even bondage.” Reymark listed off the various wounds and scars. He added in possible causes as well.

Jason’s mind raced with what might have happened to this client.

“EMT, please hand me that finger print card and ink,” Reymark said, tapping Jason on the shoulder.

Jason moved and handed the card and ink pad. He watched as Reymark put the ink on the corpse’s fingers. Next Reymark rolled each finger onto the card.

Reymark pulled the card up to the light. “Ahh…This will never do.” Reymark handed the card to Jason. “Do you see that?”

Jason looked at the card. He knew what fingerprints were, he had to get his taken when he landed this job. Jason expected to see the swirls of fingerprints. Instead he saw smears. Not a single ridge appeared. Jason turned his head to look at Reymark.

“That is the mark of a pro,” Reymark said. “The fingerprints of the corpse are unreadable. They have been removed by acid.”

Jason stared at the corpse slack-jawed.

Reymark moved onto the face and head of the corpse. Running a gloved hand over the hair, Reymark pulled back dark stains. “The corpse has some type of dye in his hair.” Thumbing back an eyelid, Reymark poked a finger into the eye. A small, colored disk came with his finger. “And some colored contact lenses.”

Next, Reymark put a finger into the mouth of the body. He pulled a partial denture plate. “This should help in the identificat…Nope. Custom made and not by a lab. Well made though.” Reymark, put the recent items into a dish set to the side.

Rolling the head to the side, Reymark leaned into check the hairline and jaw. “Hmmm. Magnifier.” He held out a hand to Jason.

Jason looked around the tool tray and put the magnifying glass in Reymark’s hand. “Nice. You might work well at this.” Reymark examined the back of the corpse’s head.

“Jason, what do you suspect these are?” Reymark pointed to a series of small white scars buried in the hair of the corpse.

“Well, that is an unusual area to be wounded in,” Jason narrowed his eyes as he leaned in. “They are hidden in the hair, so I am going to say he had them done. Making this plastic surgery or reconstruction.”

“Excellent!” Reymark smiled. “Yes, I will have to suggest you as my assistant.”

Jason raised an eyebrow.

“Moving on.”

“Slight tan around the mouth area. Darker than the cheeks and top of the head,” Reymark ran a finger vigorously cross the forehead. A smudge of the same color of the mouth area came back.

“Tanning spray?” Jason looked at the finger.

“Excellent, my boy. You are a good choice.” Reymark giggled a little.

Reymark changed his attention to the arms of the body. He pulled the skin tight around the muscular forearms. “What do you notice here?”

Jason looked at the odd shape of the right arm. Instead of a straight line there was a slight angle to it. “It looks like it isn’t straight. Possibly a fracture that wasn’t set correctly or healed poorly.”

“Yes, precisely,” Reymark said tapping Jason on the shoulder. “You are going to be my assistant from now on. Lot of work. You will like it.”

Jason blinked several times. “Sure.”

The rest of the autopsy proceeded as normal. Reymark cut into the body and weighted various organs. He noted that the appendix was missing. Reymark also commented on the sewing of the intestines.

Several hours passed since Jason brought the body in, but it seemed like only a few minutes to him.

As they were finishing up, Jason asked, “Doctor? Who is this?”

Closing the zipper onto body-bag, Reymark looked at his new assistant. “Isn’t it obvious? The body is heavily scarred, meaning no healing ability beyond normal capability. He has an account with Special Delivery that conceals his name and identity, meaning large quantities of money or high contacts. He was found cleaned of all incriminating evidence of where he was. This means he thought this through to the end. Add all that together and throw in what you know of the super community that you deal with, and you can only come to one conclusion. This is…?”

Jason’s mouth closed and opened saying a single work. “B-”

“Shush!” Reymark clamped a hand over Jason’s mouth. “Not so it could be recorded. Let’s show him a little respect.”