The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Light and Shadows III: Dusk Descending

by J. Darksong

* * *

III.)

How did everything go so horribly horribly wrong?

As I sat numbly on a bench in the middle of the River City Recreational Park in the rain, I reflected on my actions of the day before. I saw myself yelling at the woman to get back, to get out of the area of danger. I saw her face as a nearby explosion struck her van, singing the edge of her front fender. I saw her back up and turn her vehicle away, heading back down the alleyway she’d emerged from.

Then, I saw again, in my mind’s eye, the way she’d looked the next time I saw her, as the paramedics had removed her corpse from the burned out wreck of that van, along with her four small children.

I groaned deeply, slamming an angry fist down against the concrete, shattering it. “GODDAMMIT!” I howled in agony, pounding my fists again and again into the rough hard stone. I was responsible. Five dead bodies, and I was the cause. Four of them, children. Tears ran down my cheeks as I howled again, in grief and guilt, and a pain so immense it threatened to swallow me whole. I wanted to die. I wanted the ground to open up beneath me and swallow me whole!

Instead, a storm raged around me, with rain, hail, thunder and lightning flashing all around me. Lightning struck in a fury all around me, blasting the ground, trees, lamp posts—hitting everything in the area except me. I sighed heavily as the storm finally blew itself out, settling back down to a normal downpour once again.

My gremlins, my hex, my curse, my bad luck demons... however you choose to classify them, I’d learned through trial and error that the effect was directly related to my emotional state. For the past several weeks, with my delusionally upbeat outlook, they’d been relatively benign, almost tame. I still couldn’t fully control it, per sae, but with a bit of mental discipline, I could pretty much contain the overall effect. Likewise, when I was angry, frustrated, or like now, full of rage and despair, that little bad luck demon became an unstoppable force of nature. Fortunately... or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, the effect centered around me, but never directly at me.

I pulled my leather jacket tighter around myself, lifting the collar up to meet the brim of my stocking cap. I’d gone back to my civilian look, black shirt and jeans, black leather boots and black jacket, and dark sunglasses. If my “uniform” hadn’t been created of a nearly indestructible fabric, I would have ripped it to shreds and burned it. As it were, the hated thing sat in a garbage can in some dark alleyway. Along with my cell phone; I had about twenty voice mail messages from Mr. and Mrs. Albinn, Ms. Snow, Katie, Dad, and pretty much everyone else who knew about my double life. I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

Hell. About now, the only thing I’m in the mood for is a nice stiff drink to drown my sorrows in for a while.

I was up and walking towards Liquor Row before I’d even noticed. I was technically still under the legal drinking age, but I didn’t much care. I just wanted the hurt to stop, just for a little while. If I’d known where the local ‘Dust Bunnies’ were peddling their product these days, I might have gone there instead, but I knew where the bar was, and I was looking for the path of least resistance.

I entered George’s Olde World Pub, and sat down at an empty stool. The bartender, a grey haired grizzled old man named Jack, merely grunted in my direction. “Yer leaking water all over my bar,” he grunted, sliding his towel at the small pool forming around my elbow. “What’ll ya have?”

I half-shrugged, gesturing at the wall of bottles. I’d never drank a day in my life, but my dad was Scottish, so I figured I’d pick it up easily enough. “Scotch,” I grumbled softly, taking a fifty out of my pocket, laying it on the table. “And leave the bottle,” I added, as he poured me a shot. He shrugged, taking the wet bill, wringing it out slightly before sliding it into the register.

For the uninitiated, Scotch burns. In every sense of the word. It burns your taste buds, it burns your throat, it burns in the center of your gut. And depending on the proof, a lit match with burn a glass of it with a cool blue flame. If you’re not aware of these facts, its generally best to sip your scotch instead of gulping it, at least until you get used to it. Which, of course, I discovered on my second glass.

Three shots down, and I was beginning to warm up a bit. I was starting to have a nice little buzz going, when one of the regulars decided to change the channel. “Hey, Jack, turn on the news! I wanna see if they caught that fuckin’ bastard what killed that mom and her kids the other night!” A chorus of agreement sounded around the bar, and old Jack clicked the remote, turning on the TV screen mounted on the wall above the bar.

“...authorities are on the lookout for this unknown individual,” the news anchor’s voice cut in, flashing a picture of my costumed self on the screen, “wanted in connection with five deaths that occurred last night in the downtown financial area. Sources say the unknown man, an alleged Super, fled from the scene while law enforcement members were still trying to contain the scene and set up a parameter...”

I took another long drink of whiskey and pushed the bottle away. Good feeling gone. I was about to ask the bartender to change to a different station when I got another unpleasant surprise.

“This amateur recording was sent in anonymously to our station,” the anchorman announced as the screen changed to a video of my altercation with Nytro. It showed me running towards her with the car door, and the following explosion that knocked us both off our feet.

“You’ve beaten me, alright?” the bedraggled looking redhead pleaded on the screen. “You’ve won! What more do you want from me?”

The camera panned then zoomed in on the face of her black and grey clad tormentor, a savage grin twisting his features. “I want you to suffer!” he growled, moving towards her.

“Hold it!” she pleaded, backing up against the building wall, her hands raised. I noted blithely that from the camera’s angle, the object she’d held in her left hand was completely obscured. “I mean it! Please! Just... just let me go, okay? If we... if we keep this up... someone’s going to get hurt, yanno?”

The knife in my gut just twisted. Very prophetic words, considering what happened next. I should have listened to her... should have just let her walk, but no... I had to be the big macho hero. Huh. Some hero...

“Come on,” she pleaded as the camera focused on her face. “I don’t wanna do this anymore, okay? We can make a deal!”

“Sorry! I don’t make deals with criminal!” my onscreen doppelganger announced, thrusting a hand towards the brightly costumed redhead. A mass of black inky tentacles burst forth from the center of her chest, like a giant black hand ripping its way out of her. Watching it happen again from this perspective, knowing the effect was completely harmless, even I flinched.

The camera panned back, surveying the scene of the battle, then zoomed in on a flash on red moving in the background. The van, pulling up just behind the yellow Hummer. The camera view changed again, just in time to show me bend down, grab the glowing ball of explosives, and chuck it into the center of the damaged Humvee. Then an audible gasp from the cameraman as the yellow vehicle exploded in a fiery blast.

“I apologize to our viewers at home,” the anchorman cut back in as the flash faded and the video resolved itself. “The images you are about to see are very disturbing, and are not meant for young children.” The camera operator started walking forward, moving around behind the Hummer, focusing on the van, which was now engulfed in flames. Voices can be heard in the distance, my voice unknowingly announcing my victory to the crowd... the angry man’s response... the murmurs of the crowd, and the questioning by the police lieutenant. All the while, the camera view stayed glued to the van. Fire fighters stepped into view just then, extinguishing the fire, and the ambulance workers removed the doors with the ‘Jaws of Life’, giving an all too clear view of the occupants still trapped inside.

I took another drink of Scotch—my what? Fifth? Sixth? Tenth? Not that it mattered. After watching the events of yesterday unfold before my eyes, I felt stone cold sober. When the cries of ‘murderer’ being shouted on screen began being echoed by the bar patrons watching the news, I rose to my feet. Placing my sunglasses back on, pulling my collar back up again, I exited the bar, returning to the wet and dreary night. My ‘temporary escape from reality’ had only brought back the reality of the situation in stark and undeniable truth. I was everything the people had claimed me to be.

I was a murderer.

* * *

I’d gone maybe a block and a half from the bar when I felt I was being watched. I glanced back behind me a few times, but I never say anyone. Nevertheless, I was sure I was being followed. For an instant, I wondered if it might be Shinobi or Echo tailing me, but I dismissed the idea. Stalking me this way wasn’t their style, and even though they were probably the best at it, they weren’t the only ones who knew how to follow someone without being seen. Luckily, they’d also taught me how to evade someone stalking me, and walking calmly, seemingly in no hurry, I waited until the last minute, then turned right suddenly into a narrow alleyway.

Knowing they’d been made, my pursuers ran into the alleyway after me, skidding to a stop in surprise as they found the alley empty. “What the hell?” one of them, a young woman by the sound of it, asked, looking around wildly. “Where did he go? He couldn’t have just vanished into thin air... could he?”

“I don’t think so, Emm,” the other one, also a girl, answered, tapping her foot idly. “Nothing to suggest he can teleport or turn invisible, or anything like that. He has to be here somewhere, hiding. Try behind that dumpster in the corner.”

A soft flash of greenish light lit the alley briefly, causing me to squint, and the sound of glass striking metal sounded as the dumpster rolled back away from the wall. I chuckled silently to myself; nice try, but no cigar. I wasn’t going to make it that easy for them.

“Dammit, Amber,” the one called ‘Emm’ said in frustration. “He has to be here somewhere. We just lost sight of him for a second! There’s no way he could have gotten away. This alley is a dead end!”

“In more ways than one,” I said, sitting up from my vantage spot on the fire escape. Both girls jumped in surprise at my unexpected appearance as I dropped gently in front of them, which made me smile inwardly. This close, I was treated to sight of the faces that went with the voices I’d heard from my hiding place. Both were obviously Supers, with color coordinated costumes, and both were young, teenagers, at least a year or two younger than myself. The taller of the two had bright orange shoulder length that perfectly matched her costume. The shorter one in the sea green costume had long straight dark green hair, so dark it looked almost like ink, with clear jade green piercing eyes.

Amber and Emerald. Now I recognized them from Dad’s database. Two members of the ‘Beautiful Gems’ super heroine team based out of Portland. “A bit far from home, aren’t you, ladies?” I asked, crossing my arms at my chest. “Perhaps you’d like to explain why you were following me?”

“You know damn well why we were following you,” Amber stated, recovering from her shock first. “You’re the guy from the news reports, the one who killed that mom and her four kids!” Her eyes flashed a pale yellow, and I tensed, expecting some kind of attack, but she merely continued talking. “Not even bothering to deny it, huh? It doesn’t matter, anyway. Emm and I were there, in the crowd, when it happened. I saw you when you fled the scene, and managed to snap a picture of you before you got too far.” She scowled. “We would have gone after you right then, but frankly I was a bit confused why those other two Supers just stood by and let you escape. Some heroes they turned out to be!”

I scowled back at her. It was one thing to criticize or talk about me—I was more than aware of my own shortcomings—but I wasn’t going to let her sit there and take pot shots are Uncle Parker and Aunt Roni.

“Maybe they had a good reason for not coming after me?” I shot back heatedly. “Maybe they thought you could do more good staying behind on the scene, helping the police and EMTS maintain order. Maybe they decided to stay behind and make sure Tempest, Wrecker, and Nytro, the real orchestrators of yesterday’s events were locked up safely behind bars. Did you ever think of that?”

“Yeah, well, those three ARE pretty rough customers,” Emerald chimed in, taking her partner’s side, “but at least none of them managed to kill anyone! I mean, like, really, man... what the hell is wrong with you, anyway? A mother and her kids...” She shook her head in disbelief. “You cold blooded son of a bitch!”

“Shut up!” I growled, feeling my temper begin to rise. “Both of you... none of you knows what went on yesterday! You don’t know what happened!”

“Hit a sore spot, did we?” Amber said coyly, rolling her eyes. “Okay, then. Explain it to us. Explain why you said what you said to Nytro when you were fighting her. Explain why you felt the need to make her ‘suffer’ when she was clearly beaten, when you had her begging you to surrender!” She crossed her arms. “Explain why chose to make her freaking chest explode in a mass of inky black tentacles, to the point where she passed out cold in the middle of the street when all you had to do was handcuff her or something!”

My mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. I was being bombarded with the truth. I had said and done exactly what Amber had said. I’d been pissed off at the girl for blowing me up multiple times. I’d wanted her to suffer. I’d wanted to pay her back in kind for the pain she’d inflicted upon me. How could I justify my actions to these girls when I couldn’t even justify them to myself?

“You were angry,” Emerald put in, taking a step towards me. “You were pissed off. We’ve all seen the video tape footage. You were in a murderous rage, little more than a rabid beast! And when your opponent went down for the count, you lashed out, taking out the last of your anger on the closest target you could find. The family in that van just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time!”

I didn’t know how to respond. They were forcing me to face the truth about what I’d done. I’d thought... I mean, it had seemed, at the time, like an accident. I hadn’t meant to kill anyone... certainly not a mom and her little children! But... I was mad. I was pissed. Maybe, deep down, I hadn’t thrown that bomb to try and protect anybody. Maybe, I’d just reacted instinctively... and my instinct had been to cause pain, and hurt and sorrow in the most dramatic fashion imaginable.

I was doubting myself. I didn’t know anymore. Hadn’t I always maintained that the only real use for my darkness imbued powers was destruction? I mean, did Anakin Skywalker really have any choice in the matter, or was he simply playing out the role that fate and George Lucas had prepared for him from the beginning?

At least I was already dressed for the part. All I needed was the helmet...

“You’re coming with us,” Emerald said, taking out a pair of shining metal handcuffs. “As a duly registered Super and authorized enforcer, I am placing you under arrest. If you come along peacefully, there won’t be any trouble.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Really? You’re planning to slap the cuffs on me? Really?” I shook my head in mirth. “And... just out of curiosity, what do you plan to do if I choose NOT to come along peacefully?”

Amber’s lips twitched into a knowing smile. “Oh, I really hope you try. I haven’t taken down a true super villain in weeks, and I’m afraid I’m starting to get rusty.”

I almost yelled out “I’m not a super villain” out of reflex, but, well, I guess that didn’t hold much weight anymore, did it? I held out my arms, fists closed, mentally going through my options as Emerald placed the cuff around my right wrist. They were both relatively young, prideful, but not overly experienced. I could take them both without breaking a sweat. The real question was should I? Wouldn’t it be better to just face the music now and turn myself in? If I went to jail... so be it. Just pay my debt to society and be done with it, and try again with a fresh start... in ten to twenty years...

Just as the green haired beauty moved to slap the cuff on my left hand, I felt, or rather sensed something coming at me. A prickly feeling at the back of my neck warned me of the impending attack an instant before it hit. I reacted as I’d been taught by my great ninja sensei, going limp, throwing myself to the side. Emerald let out a loud yelp as a long thin blade struck her in the shoulder. I rolled to my knees, glancing around, trying to spot where the attack had come from, but whoever had tried to shank me had disappeared back into whatever shadows he’d emerged from.

“Oh, you sorry bastard!!” Amber growled, eyes flashing again. “Now you’ve done it!”

“Me?” I replied with a scowl. I opened my mouth to deny the attack, to point out I’d been standing in front of both of them with my hands out, helpless, and the fact that had I not moved aside at the last second, I would have been the one to take a blade in the back. Unfortunately, I never got the chance. My body suddenly went stiff, and my vision turned yellow. I was frozen, caught in what appeared to be a large transparent orange bubble, unable to move a muscle. Unable to even breathe I noticed in a panic a few seconds later. I couldn’t blink, couldn’t turn my head, wiggle a finger or toe, or anything! I was caught, like a bug in a spider’s web...

Or a dragonfly in amber, I suddenly realized.

“That should keep you under control until the police arrive,” Amber’s muffled voice replied, barely penetrating my colorful cocoon. “You’re just lucky my amber slows down all your biological functions to a crawl,” she sneered haughtily. “After that little sneak attack you pulled, I’m almost tempted to let you stay in there until you fossilize completely!” Glancing at her friend, she asked, almost tenderly, “Are you okay, Emerald?”

The green haired girl peered intently at the small spike retrieved from her shoulder. “Yeah, I think so. It didn’t go in that far, and I don’t think it was poisoned. Just hurts like a muther...” She glanced up at me. “Guess it’s a good thing you dosed him with a micro thin layer while we were still talking earlier. He’s a tricky one. That dart came out of nowhere!”

I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. It was bad enough being outfoxed by the freaking ‘Rainbow Brite’ Brigade, but to sit here and have to listen to their mindless drivel was almost more than I could bear. They hadn’t even figured out yet that there was someone else out there watching, someone else who’d attacked them. If and when that mysterious figure finally made his move, I would be a sitting duck. I certainly couldn’t depend on Tweedledum and Tweedledummer to defend me, even if I was technically their prisoner. No... I needed to get out of this mess, and fast. I tried moving my arms, flexing my muscles, hoping my strength would enable me to break free—

Nothing. Whatever this stuff was, it was keeping me immobile, as if the very nerve impulses my brain was streaming out were prevented from reaching my limbs. And yet, I could think, I could hear, and see whatever passed in front of my wide open eyes. In shuddered inwardly as a whole new level of helplessness descended upon me. I was trapped, completely and utterly. It was just my luck to run into these two—

Wait a second. Luck?

Hmmm. Why not? What did I have to lose?

With nothing else at my disposal, I turned to the one thing that I’d never truly dwelled upon, that I’d resolutely refused to think about, because of the sheer ramifications it implied. Unlike my strength and my shadows, this power was what truly made me dangerous. In retrospect, alone with only my thoughts, I realized that I always suspected... no, I always KNEW precisely what this so-called curse I lived with was. I just didn’t want to believe it.

Probability. It all boiled down to probability. For every event, every happenstance, there is a set probability that it will occur, that something will happen, or not happen. In some cases, the criteria are easy to determine, like flipping a coin. One coin, with two sides, the chances of it landing on one side or the other are fifty-fifty. Theoretically, if you flipped a coin an infinite amount of times, half the time it would come up heads, and half the time it would come up tails. Simple. In other cases, however, the criteria are much more complicated, because the possible outcomes and the number of factors that determine each outcome, are complex and numerous. The chances of all eight planets in the solar system being perfectly lined up in a straight line? Literally astronomical. Trying to calculate the orbital path of all eight planets, their individual rates of revolution, gravitational drift caused by their spatial relationships to one another... it would take a couple dozen supercomputers to figure it out.

Now... imagine for a moment, that you had the power to unconsciously change the odds... to literally make the impossible possible, without even realizing it? The chances of a localized earthquake occurring in a city on the Eastern Seaboard far from any fault lines or tectonic shifting? Probably one-tenth of a percent. Now imagine some girl you like dumped you, embarrassed you, totally pissed you off, and as she walked away, you unconsciously lashed out in your anger, changing that probability from point zero zero one percent to one hundred percent! The ground LITERALLY opens up underneath her, and she falls in, screaming, as she dives headlong into the abyss.

Scary thought, huh?

Welcome to my world. My cloud of ill will worked in exactly this way, to some malevolent but minor random effect. I’d never tried to actually control it; suppress it, yes, contain it, yes, occasionally unleash it, yeah. But control it? Direct it? Wield it like a weapon? Not on your life! The problem with trying to cause one event to happen is the unforeseen other events triggered at the same time. I didn’t know if a butterfly flapping its wings a world away could really cause tidal waves on this side of the world, but I generally preferred not to take that chance.

Under normal circumstances, that is. Being incased in a glob of solid amber wasn’t exactly what I’d call a normal circumstance. So, I focused my mind, my thoughts, on one little thing—cracking the shell open so I could escape. Simple, right?

“Hey, what’s that?” Emerald asked, glancing up at the night sky. “Hey, Amber, look! A shooting star!”

“Yeah, nice,” she replied, glancing upwards. “A whole bunch of them. Must be a meteor shower.”

Indeed, the night sky brightened slightly as several small bright sparks raced across the horizon, flaring brightly for a few seconds before winking out. Most of them, that is. A few of those sparks, however, continued to grow brighter, and larger, as if they heading straight towards our location.

“Um, Emm,” Amber said in a low voice, taking a step back, as a trio of bright lights started streaming towards them. “I think maybe we should move...”

“Oh shit!” Emerald yelled, backing up out of the alley, “Look out!”

The first impact struck a building just out of view from my position, but the bright flash and earth shaking aftershock told me it was nearby. The second one struck somewhere far behind me, hopefully in an unoccupied stretch of land or road. The third, however, hit the mark, striking my amber coated prison just to the right of my head. My cocoon shattered, and I gasped, drawing in fresh air as I stumbled a bit, trying to regain my sense of balance. Finally able to move again, I glanced around, taking in my surroundings.

Yep. The building where the first one hit is on fire. Looks like the other two managed to miss hitting anything or anyone, though... Considering the fact that I’d unknowingly created a goddamn fucking cosmic phenomenon to free myself, I think the planet Earth had gotten on rather lightly. Note to self. I am NEVER trying that again. Ever.

Emerald and Amber were just getting back to their feet, staring at me with fear and awe. “Wh... what the fuck... are you?” Amber whispered, as I approached her. I chuckled darkly.

“According to the two of you, I’m a super villain. A bad guy. A bastard, and a cold-blooded son of a bitch. Isn’t that what you said?” I ripped the dangling handcuff from my wrist like a piece of paper, tossing it on the ground at their feet. A sheen of inky darkness swept over me, covering me from head to toe. “Well, maybe once I would have disagreed with you, but not now. Not anymore. Why fight it?” A thin strand of darkness shot forth from my hand like a spider web, taking Amber in the chest. She gasped in shock, then in pleasure as her essence was drawn slowly out of her, drop by drop.

“Bastard!” Emerald yelled, raising both of her hands, palms out. “Let her go!” Her body pulsed bright green for an instant, and a bright beam of energy erupted from her hands.

The blast struck me in the center of my chest, yet... strangely, it didn’t hurt. I felt a slight tingle, like I did whenever I used one of my tendrils to short out some kind of electrical device, but that was it. The look on Emerald’s face showed that her reaction was the same as mine. Shock was quickly replaced by determination, though, as she continued firing, sending bolt after bolt of emerald energy at me. A single thought sent to my newest shadow drone quelled that little outburst, however.

“Amber!” Emerald cried out as her hands went stiff, covered in a hard yellow cocoon. She looked at her friend and teammate in horror as the blank faced girl slowly lowered a glowing hand to the ground, cocooning her feet in place as well. “Amber please! Don’t do this! He’s controlling you! You have to fight him!”

“No,” the orange haired heroine sighed softly with a shake of her head. “Can’t fight. Can’t resist. Don’t wanna resist... feels too good. Too nice. Must obey... mmmmm... yeah. Anything... everything... so good... to obey...”

The green haired Super glared at me with newfound hatred, which, considering her previous view of me, was saying a lot. Still, I was done with this little dog and pony show. A tendril to the back of her skull ended Emerald’s little tantrum, and I took a bit of satisfaction watching the fire fade from her eyes. I could feel her, hear her thoughts as they slowed, then stopped altogether. Interesting. No wonder she got so pissed off when I took control of her flame haired friend.

“Ladies, it’s time for me to go now,” I said out loud, capturing their attention. “I’m sure the police and the fire department will arrive any minute, and I should probably be somewhere else when they get here. In the meantime, it seems that you two have some unresolved issues that you need to work out. Amber, your partner, Emily, has been hiding her feelings for you for a long time now. She loves you, and wants more than anything for her love to be returned. So, that’s what’s going to happen right now.” I struck them both with a few more tendrils to prevent even the idea of rebellion as I set the stage. Moments later, both girls were busy removing each others’ costumes, oblivious to everything else but their own sexual needs. Moving out to a small grassy area, they slid to the ground, kissing and exploring each other with a pure carnal hunger.

A part of me wished I could stay around and watch. A larger part of me wanted to join in. But the bulk of my reasoning noticed the approaching sirens, so I made good my escape, heading back uptown, towards the residential area. I glanced back at the two teens mindlessly fornicating, and sighed. A week ago, I would never have done that. A day ago, I would have at least felt bad about it. Now? All I felt inside was numb...

* * *

Parker Albinn frowned to himself as he squatted down along the side of the cordoned off road. The wreckage from the incident the day before had been removed, and law enforcement had completed their investigation. The evidence seemed pretty much cut and dried, particularly with the video evidence circulating. Still, there were a lot of loose ends, at least to Parker’s way of thinking. And he hated loose ends.

Taking out a small hand held device from his pocket, he tapped a few keys, then pointed it at the spot where the explosion had ended five young lives. The machine scrolled lines of text as it scanned, the tiny but powerful CPU compiling and organizing the data into useful information. Parker’s eyes widened in surprise. He saved the data, then ran the scan again, just to be sure. A few seconds of compiling, and the results displayed once more, identical to the first scan.

Well, I’ll be damned. Guess the old man was right after all.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he focused inwardly, then with a hand outstretched, sent out a sonic pulse. Sound waves bounced around the area, then bounced again, echoing slightly as they reverberated back to their source. In his mind’s eye he could see the layout of the area, from multiple directions and dimensions, and in an instant he found what he was looking for. Opening his eyes, he walked across the street to the Syringa Building, currently closed for reconstruction like the others surrounding the site of the brawl. Unlike most of the buildings, however, he recalled that the Syringa building had been closed the entire work for a broken gas main.

Stepping through the shattered remains of the glass front door, he made his way to the supervisor’s office at the far end of the hall. He paused at the doorway, taking out the scanner again, setting it record its findings. The explosions that had shattered all the windows had kicked up quite a bit of dust as well. A rather fine but visible layer of grey dust covered the entire office, making it easy to pick out a trail of footprints leading into and out of the room.

Parker made his way over to the window, and dropped into a squat, careful not to touch anything himself. He peered out at the street from his vantage point, then frowned, noting the view. Taking out his cell phone, he dialed a quick number from memory.

“Hey. It’s me. Yeah, I’m at the site of the explosion again. You were right, Eugene. Jimmy WAS set up. Your scanner detected traces of ammonium nitrate chemical residue, as well as high octane gasoline used as an accelerant. And since that van had a diesel-burning engine, there shouldn’t be any ethanol mixed fuel in the mix. So, unless, that mother of four was driving around the city with her kids in a van full of fertilizer and gasoline, I’d say someone else set the stage and put them there in harm’s way to make your son look like a killer.”

Scanning the wall and the windowsill area proved useless. “Damn. I’m in the Syringa Building, looking for any clues about the person that shot the footage of Jimmy fighting Nytro. No fingerprints on the window sill or the wall. Either the guy was wearing gloves, or he was careful not to touch anything.”

He frowned for a moment, listening. Then: “Really? You’re serious? Well, if you think there’s a chance...” Turning the scanner over, he slid down a small tab, and twister the small knob until the display read ‘wide angle scan’. “Here goes nothing,” he mumbled softly to himself, pointing it towards the ground.

A small red beam of light shone down, splitting into eight smaller beams, tracing along the edges of the floor, creating a grid. The scanner then began scrolling, tracking every piece of shattered glass, scanning, recording, and reconfiguring the pieces into a virtual model of the original window pane, highlighting a small section in the lower right quadrant.

“Well, I’ll be damned again. Looks like you were right. Your little doohickey found a couple of smudged fingerprints on the shards. Chances are they belong to the guy who’s office I’m in, but who knows. We might just get lucky.” He sighed. If there’s anyone in the world who could use a lucky break right about now, it’s Jimmy.

He listened for a few more minutes, then nodded. “Agreed. I’ll meet you back at your office once you leave the courtroom, and we can compare notes. In the meantime, I’ll check in with Roni and let her know what’s going on.” Hanging up his cell, the black masked Super streaked out of the building, heading across town...