A Case of Fury

Chapter 1

The wind blew cold and swift over the high rise, ruffling Case's hair harshly and forcing the chill through his brother's old coat. His hands were curled around the metal railing, fingers pale against a layer of peeling black paint. His eyes were cast downwards, quietly studying the eclectic buildings and grubby alleyways that crowded the Ganes sector, and trying desperately to understand why Marshall loved being up here so much. Even from the roof, everything just looked dirty and miserable.

But he can't ask his brother about that now, can he? Marshall was now gone, wasn't he?

Gone, he thought again cautiously.

Dead.

Killed.

He drew in a stuttering breath, fingers tightening over the iron bar. It hurt so much. Marshall hadn't deserved to die, nothing could ever excuse his death, and no matter what Case did or how much he pleaded, his brother wasn't coming back. Death was something solid and cruel and final; the thought made him feel angry beyond words.

It's his birthday today too, he thought dolefully, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat and twisting the dark fabric around his fists, as if hurting Marshall's favourite coat might somehow make him take notice. Case knew he should have visited his brother's grave already, wished him a happy nineteenth birthday, told him how much he missed him. Instead here he was, skipping school just to agonise all day on top of a stupid roof. Case knew there were several other things he should be doing for Marshall as well, but he couldn't give shapes to what they were just yet. What would Marshall want him to do? What did he want to do?

The rattle of a chain pulled him from his brooding. His eyes slid sideways, snagging on the battered wooden board hanging from the railing by a thin rusting chain. The board was settling back after being knocked forward by a gust of wind. Charcoal letters marked the entire face of the board, seeming like an army of black ants, and even from where he stood, Case could see they were names, written weeks and months and years apart.

Case stared at the board with mild curiosity. Surely it wasn't the first time he was noticing the piece of wood, he'd heard enough rumours about it to have checked it out a long time ago. The running superstition in Ganes was that this particular roof was cursed: whoever spent too long on top of it would inevitably meet with harrowing misfortunes. Case had disregarded the stories for so long, after all terrible things happened in everyone's lives, living in Ganes was a scrap of bad luck all on it's own—you could catch pneumonia if you slept on the streets on a rainy day, you could get shot if you meddled in a bar fight, you could get shot if you didn't—a dreary roof or a dubious curse couldn't have had anything to do with it; but now that Marshall was dead, he couldn't very well ignore the stories either.

Once upon a time Case loved superstitions. He loved sneaky miracles and secret things and anything that evaded scientific logic. Once upon a time when a scrawny black kitten with two legs in kitten-grave crawled in through his and Marshall's bedroom window, they decided to keep it— Marshall because he was a kind soul, and Case because he wanted to see if the cat brought good luck, or bad luck, whichever it was supposed to be. Once upon a time he'd wanted to believe that the world was woven from magic, that there was something more. Now he resented the very thought.

Kneeling down next to the weathered wooden board, Case began reading the names, scrawled in as many hands and sizes and interspersed so densely that looking at them hurt his eyes. They were all testimonies:

Archibald Fox – fell off a ladder and BROKE his SPINE

Juliana Morales – Overdose

JESSE & PARTY – GOT GRASSED ON ☠

PATS – JUMMED OVER THE reyling