The Parallel - Shorts

Wyatt Moses

** A short written for practice with writing Moses. - Occurs the morning of chapter nine. Should definitely be read with Billie Eilish's Therefore I Am in the background, just saying. **

Richard Baker's hands were sweating. He kept them clamped together in an effort to ignore it and hopefully prevent anyone else from noticing. Sitting on a workbench in the GC's northeastern Wichita base garage, he listened to his coworkers bicker about the damaged van sitting in the second-to-the-left parking space. To say it was in "horrible" shape would have been an understatement. The vehicle was likely totaled. That kid had battered it as if it were an empty soda can.

Amanda Capps was furious. It didn't help that the intense swelling at the right side of her forehead where she'd hit the dash the day before had lowered her reddened brow, making her appear to glare in a way that transcended the usual human expression. The concussion she'd suffered did nothing to stifle her wrath as she screamed at Jason Silor, who was a much easier target than Mr. Baker.

"And that's exactly why I told you to take the gray one! Jameson's got it insured by Dorsey's people; they don't ask questions when incidents like this happen!"

"Well, we weren't expecting to get beaten up by a middle schooler," Silor replied, rolling his eyes and throwing his arms out. His demeanour changed a bit as he glanced over at the battered vehicle. "Surely we can get it fixed up? I'll bet the KC folks have more resources."

"Listen Silor," Dawson drawled out from where he was sitting on the floor, leaning against a wall of metal lockers. He'd been throwing back shots of whiskey in such excess, it seemed as if he was the most distraught of them all, but he had a woozy smile on his face that said otherwise. "I've wrecked a'lota cars in my lifetime. That thing's scrap metal."

"Well it stayed together while getting it onto the trailer..." Silor said quietly, still trying to defend his position. The more optimism that was kept up in the garage, the less anger was directed his way.

"Shoulda just taken it off to a dump then," Dawson's reply was followed by a hiccup.

"Have you heard back from the Nest yet?" Capps' gaze was suddenly turned on Baker. He shifted a little in his seat, feeling slightly unnerved as he checked his phone.

"Nothing yet," he replied with a sigh. "But I'd assume they'd resupply us quickly enough if they want us to go after this kid," he reasoned, rubbing his jaw. "Power like that? He's a beacon, the second he starts using it. If IDEC is monitoring this area like we think they are, they'll have noticed that light show and will have the Scouts on the case any second now."

Capps thought for a moment, looking at the floor. "IDEC Scouts haven't been interfering near as much for the past several years though. Not since that Employment Growth Act... right?"

"Somethin' like that," Dawson slurred from his spot, pouring another shot. It was a wonder to all why he bothered with the glass when he clearly intended to drain a good portion of the bottle anyway. "They're only s'possed to make contact with flip-side espers if they believe their quality of life would be sparkly-sunshiny better knowing about the Parallel, or if they're provin' to be an extreme hazard to the general public, by use of their abilities, of course."

Baker rubbed his brow, irritated as he found Dawson's accent even harder to understand through the influence of alcohol. "But I still feel that IDEC would be interested if these kids crossed their radar." Looking up, he folded his hands under his chin. "That tall one had at least four, maybe five unique auras. Silor's scanner picked up on it too. And then the kid, a telekinetic doing what he did. Those weren't your typical bowl-of-soup floating esp tricks. He blew the damn doors off of the van, rocked it like it weighed nothing." Shaking his head, he said, "We've gotta get them before IDEC does."