Black Body and Other Stories by Bart Lessard

Author:Bart Lessard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: Bart Lessard
Published: 2022-03-03T19:48:38+00:00

Behind two entries on the ponded park—all these were of the same double push-bar sort—Plxto and Mxnnie found stairwells. Neither was a fool—they did not climb, not even one flight for a glimpse to upper hells, but in each case stood and listened.

“Radio sounds,” Mxnnie reported back at the gazebo. Txnker Bxll was still away.

“Same,” Plxto said. “Tweet-tweet, mumble-mumble. They’re posted up top waiting for us. They know there’s nowhere for us to go. They’ve been so gung-ho so far—why hold off?”

Not collared yet—still, no likey. I glanced around us—did my own listening. “Whxn Yxx Wxsh Xpon x Stxr (inst.)” had run its course on the P.A. system, so there was nothing left to mask stirrings of the floodwater and the air filtration system.

“Step on out, Crxcket.”

He did, from a phony tree. He was not in costume unless you count the deep black weeds of an Xpcot stormtrooper. Also, nighttime camo greased his face, a matte in dark stripes. Body armor was festooned with taser, pepper spray, wrist ties, and maybe six flash-bangs. He had a compliance weapon slung to his chest, an FN 303 maybe. Only the strap showed. Pepperball rounds, were that the load, would not be lethal—not on purpose—but still, blunt force trauma, burning eyes, gag reflex, rat-a-tat-tat. He did not draw a bead. “This is amazing!” he said, gesturing all around. “I had no idea. Just wow. Some of the park schematics are redacted, but I thought that was for giggles.”

“You seriously gonna use that shit on us?” Mxnnie asked, motioning to exhibits. Plxto said nothing. By zen or black he already knew the mind that weapons brought.

“You’re not in danger. This is procedural. It’s even for your safety.” The airgun was unslung and came up to an eye—not an FN 303 but sinister and military. Deep contracts. “Stefan, Joanne, step away from the dxck, please. I’m going to light him up.”

Eyes to me, back, Plxto said in tears, “Why pick on Adam?”

“Don’t worry—it’s just shockrounds. But I need to get him limp.”

“Couldn’t get any limper, pal.”

“Once this is all done with, let’s get us a beer, okay? Pro to pro.”

“Wabbit season.”

“Wrong dxck. Wrong studio.”

Too smart, too fast. Here came the electric nap. But Txnker Bxll tore on scene in a dead sprint and, huh, a floor routine. Jxminy had time to turn—only just—into a somersault rip that ended in a snapuswipe and a heel. Back first, legs high, he took to the drink with a panic burst. Pellets chopped the water. The voltage made him dance. Us, too—shouting ow ow ow, one foot up and then the next, a James Brown washerwoman. But the crxcket bore the brunt and was rubbery for long enough for us to get him onto the gazebo floor. There he would not drown. Also, we could strip off the sublethal weapon overkill and bind him tight at ankle and wrist.

Valentines were popping over my head. I could not keep my eyes off her—rhythmic gymnast, and a bronze medal at worst. If she had come down armed with a ribbon or a hoop Jxminy would have been slain outright.

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