Grind City

Chapter 1

"All I'm saying," the man said "Is they could take over the world. They've got the power to do it, they're just too damn lazy."

It wasn't the first time Crawford had heard something this asinine, and it certainly would be the last. Hell, it wouldn't even be the only time tonight. Someone getting too drunk to think straight, deciding to run their mouth on whatever popped into their heads. They weren't all like Crawford, who much preferred less verbose means of communication when he got that drunk. Tonight, however, he was on the other side of the bar. On the last night of a ten night run, a few hours before he would be free of this place and these people for a few days.

"Jus' hear me out," the guy said to no one in particular. More specifically, to Crawford because he was a captive audience even though he appeared to be addressing the wall of bottles. "You've got all types. It'd take jus' a few. They could rip everything down."

Phenoms were a preferred topic, no matter the night. For, against, or indifferent, everyone had something to say. Crawford didn't much care either way himself, and he rather not talk about it at all. He'd rather not hear about it all, but according to his boss he wasn't allowed to shut people up unless they were legitimately causing a problem. His boss's idea of causing a problem, not his own.

"Get a couple of those fire starters..." the man said as he lined up three shot glasses. "And some earth shakers!" Two high balls behind the first two. "Then you get the real power. The ones that get into your heads! And the ones that see the future! Whatever they're called!" He dropped several napkins across the bar in front of him. "Get nine or ten of them all total. They'd take over the government together!"

Phenoms. People with abilities beyond those of a normal human, or inerts as they were sometimes called. Abilities among phenoms varied as colors in a rainbow, or so they said. Even when two people presented with very similar powers, they could still manifest differently. No one really knew the reason for it, or if they did they hadn't ever presented it in a way that Crawford understood. Or cared about. They probably covered it when he was in school, along with things like gravity and volcanoes and genetics. He didn't need to know the details of those things to get through his day, so he didn't really need to know how or why phenoms happened. They just were. Just like his hair was red. It just was.

"That's great, Lenny," Crawford grumbled as he finished pouring someone else's drink. "Can I get my glasses back?"

"You just don't wanna face it! They've been waiting. Making us think we're all safe." Lenny was a middle aged man that had supposedly done some manner of hard labor in his years. Whatever it had been, Crawford had never figured out as he'd never asked and Lenny never said. He'd been unemployed the whole time Crawford had known him. The man had a jowly face, his salt and pepper stubble looking more like ash stuck to his face.

"Oh yeah?" Crawford made no attempt to actually sound interested. "And how long have they been waiting?" He traded the short glass for a couple of crumpled bills.

"Years!"

Crawford let out a hard sigh. Though no one could pin down precisely how long phenoms had been around, it was measured in centuries, not individual years. Some theories said that the miracles and events of legend or myth were real events brought about by phenoms, though they'd been far rarer in ancient times.

"That's it," Crawford finally said. "I'm cutting you off."

"You just don't like hearing the truth!"

"I don't like your truth, Lenny. Now are you gonna pay your tab and do I have to frisk you for your wallet. Again." Granted, the last time was because Lenny had fallen asleep on the bar before he could pay for the night.