The Inveigled

Chapter 8: Jax

I know I shouldn't be finding any type of enjoyment doing this.

I can't help it.

Once I threw that pack of cigar wraps onto the tracks, I knew that showing up late would attract some attention to me. I needed a diversion.

What? I pulled some strings, easy as that.

I was leaning against the subway tracks, tapping my foot as I anxiously awaited the next subtrain so I could avoid any new confrontation from Juno. This umber man, about fifty years old stumbled in, holding his balance like he had two prosthetic limbs. Oversized pants hung from his waist down, and he had no shirt on, only a thick jacket bundled up to the third button. His face was gaunt, his cheekbones jutting out from malnourishment, his lively hazel eyes sinking into his face. His teeth were the only thing polished about him, bright white and straight. He flashed them like a trophy. I'm pretty sure they were just dentures. His head was almost completely bald, patches of gray hair sprouting out in random spots. He walked right past me, sitting at a bench and folding his hands in his lap. I was a bit off about him, so I stayed and waited for the next train.

It comes, and the doors open, but he doesn't get off. Instead, he stays seated, his deadpan expression fixated on me. A slow countdown begins, but he doesn't budge.

I turn my head to face him. He still doesn't shift his gaze.

"What do you want?" I bluntly remark. He's old, he couldn't hurt me if he tried.

"What do you want?" He returns, and I look at him a bit confused.

"I want you to leave to where ever you're going." My words glide out nonchalantly.

"What if I have no destination?" His weak voice trembles, but his face remained blank. "I thought you'd be one to understand, Jax."

I pause. This had to be some sort of joke. Silence settles, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Who is he? Maybe he's more of a threat than I thought.

He begins to laugh, stopping every few moments to gasp for air. "Laugh a bit more and those teeth of yours are going to fall off." I mutter. He laughs even harder.

"Nine children beaten. Unorderly conduct towards a government official. Threatening four teachers that you'd beat the fuck outta them. Ring a bell? Your public records are quite solid. Quite the riveting fella, remind me of me back in the day." 

"Where are you getting that?" I calmly say. The only time someone wins an argument is when they see you're worried.

"I like you kid. I think you'd need these even more than I do. When I was a lil' boy, your age even, I always dreamed of gettin' up there." The man points his finger upward, to the rotting ceiling that looked quite unstable if you stared too long. For some reason, I knew that he didn't mean getting up to Tier 1.

"Gittin old now. Won't need 'em anymore if my grave gon' be waiting for me soon 'nough." 

I didn't know what he was talking about, but I kept listening. Then, he reached into his ears, popping out two small buds that must have been coated in ear wax. After that, he basically claws his left eye out getting a small lens to fall in his hand.

"Take 'em. You'll need it if you want a chance." 

"What are they?" My bitter voice attacks. How does he know I'm one of the wanderers? What if this is some sort of trap?

"Weren't you curious to know how I found your record? Not too deep on the net. Been waiting for someone to give em to. Lucky kid, you know?"

Internet? My ears perk up at the sound of that.

"Not like you had a group of people lining up to come down here and pick them up." I mutter.

"You're funny boy." His bones ache as he uses the handles of the bench to heave himself to his feet and plop the three priceless things in my open palm. "Make it up there, and keep fightin' whoever tells you otherwise." He flashes his fake white teeth again before hobbling away.

I'll go up, wipe em off, and give em a whirl. If what he says is true, this will be a lot of fun...

I don't know how much these cost, or if they're even allowed to anyone other than government personnel, but I used 'em. With a single glance, I can scan the internet database and find anything and everything. Soon enough, with some toying, I'm pretty sure I'll even be able to install some sort of facial recognition feature to really freak people out.

Yes, the internet.                                      
Yes, I know it's illegal.
Yes, I couldn't care less.

I could really toy with anyone, or even use this to find a way to get above, but at the moment, Blythe is the easiest to get a reaction out of. She's so vulnerable to those quick mood swings, so truculent and ready to swing a fist or two, no matter the odds against her.

It's so fun.

Either way, it was so simple to be able to get my ID back and clip it right back where the last had resided.

Blythe's comment about Juno was a bit unnecessary, but the weirdest thing was that she really didn't seem to care. Anyone else would have cowered in fright, awaiting some knuckle to make contact with their face. It was refreshing, to say the least.

"It'll look less suspicious if you walk around with one pin and two blazers instead of one that doesn't even have your name on it." I explain, trying my hardest to suppress the smile blooming on my face. I needed to see this happen. Blythe, walking out unexpectedly and getting busted when the guards realize her pin was missing. It could happen whenever, but I know it would most likely happen during lunch when she'd have to scan in present.

Blythe did have her original blazer clinging to her figure under my oversized jacket loosely wrapped around her, displaying her original badge. That shouldn't too difficult to snatch.

My devilish looks can be used for anything. 

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