On The Surface

Good Burn

Everything was coming together for the shop and Waylon even began toget the occasional call on his business line. Some of them weren'teven wrong numbers. The sign came in and Eddie helped him to hang itup above the door. It was rather large and in a few pieces. Finally,the shop looked more like a legitimate business and Waylon felt likehe had a future in the Mount Massive Shopping Complex.

Waylon also set up his account with Murkoff. True to their word, theyhad granted him very limited access and an e-mail account to allowtenants to message him with issues regarding the technology andwiring present within the small complex. Waylon remembered thereporter's warning and was tempted to test how far he could push theaccess he was granted, but decided that was an adventure for anotherday. After his experience at the hospital, Waylon wasn't sure hewanted to go down that road again. Once you began unraveling secrets,you were faced with the choice of exposing them and thereforeexposing yourself, or walking away knowing you stood by helpless asothers suffered.

After his business cards came in, Waylon made a quick tour of thearea to let the tenants know who to contact if they had any issues.Waylon's shop was first and closest to the road and the front gates,always left open. Eddie's shop was next, and Waylon did wander in todrop his friend a business card. Any excuse to talk to Eddie. Nextwas the Chiropractor, Doctor Trager. The man seemed like more of aquack chiropractor than anyone with real medical expertise on spinalalignment. A butcher's shop was located next door and the man runningit, Frank, seemed dirtier than what you'd want in a butcher. The rawmeat hanging in the back of the counter and all of the sharp knivesleft an unsettled feeling in Waylon's stomach. There were a few otherempty areas with "FOR LEASE" signs in the window, and then therewas the chapel closest to the chemical company's guarded entrance.

The chapel was really just a couple of regular shops renovated tobecome one strip-mall Jesus boutique. Waylon had noticed cars parkedthere some evenings, and fliers were up announcing meetings for manydifferent support groups. The man running it called himself FatherMartin and he seemed to be missing most of the screws that holdsanity together. Then again, Waylon was not a religious man and mostpeople that held so fervently to any religion made him feel uneasy.

Overall, the complex was full of strange characters. It seemedunlikely than any of the shops used enough technology to keep Waylonbusy at all. If anything, he wasn't sure the butcher even had acomputer – much like Eddie when they had first met.

Waylon ran into the reporter again one afternoon. Miles stoodscribbling notes in a tiny notebook with his camera trained on theMurkoff building. His outfit that day was no less put together thanthe first time Waylon had met him, and his brown hair was still ascharmingly mussed. He struck a nice figure in a brown jacket.

"Waylon Park," Miles said as a way of greeting. "Smell anythinginteresting lately?"

"Excuse me?" Waylon had responded.

"Strange smells?"

"The butcher shop smells pretty strange..."

"No, chemical smells. Something from Murkoff. Experience anyheadaches? Dizzy spells? Sexual impotence?" Miles asked, the cameranow trained on Waylon.