Chapter Two: The Glowy Bounty Hunters.
While still studying the Journal, we could hear Gizmo going to the kitchen, sound of the TV and the door opening. Often, Ben comes in the morning to watch the news with him. I believe they just love cussing while commenting on the collapsing economy. Actually, they say there is none anymore. And that the world is chaos. Today was no different. They were debating over freshly brewed coffee and bagels, we could smell upstairs. That's when we have decided to take a break. It took us the whole night to create sort of a mind map of what we knew so far. And we knew quite a lot after reading just a couple of paragraphs.
We've decided to reward our hard work with bagels and espresso, so we headed downstairs. As we were around the corner, we've heard a gunshot. We peeked from behind the wall. In front of the door were two men in weird, glowy suits with one-blasters. Or One-One's, if you will, as that's how many attempts someone needs, to wipe you out. Ben and Gizmo grabbed not so advanced, in fact, now already antique shotguns.
One of the men declared, without beating around the bush:
-Frederico Russo, you are under arrest.
-I didn't do anything.- not-guilty was surely confused by such allegations. Especially before coffee.
-You're a prime suspect in our investigation. Someone broke into the Ministry Headquarters last night-another man in gray stated.
-If you think it was me, you're mistaken. That has to be a mistake, I was at the diner all night...-Gizmo tried to explain himself, but men in glowy suits weren't here to listen. We all knew that he used to be an active member of the resistance movement, to say the least, and that even the smallest acts of rebellion mattered for him. But since Dani and I were here, he became passive, as it would put us all in danger, and he promised my parents to protect me with his heart and soul. Never said that about Dani, but I know he would do the same. Either way, one thing is for sure, that we've heard him go to his bedroom last night, soon after we run upstairs with the Journal and didn't hear a thing until the very morning. But even the most credible evidence meant nothing at that moment. What could four suburban folks do against government pawns with the order for an Italian troublemaker, carrying deadly one-one's. Probably the only thing I'm really scared of. One of many messed up things about our times. We're not scared of heights or spiders anymore. We are scared of technology, and what it could bring. This time it brought chaos to the Leak. The grey duo grew impatient, and in a matter of seconds wrecked our front door and got in. One almost got Gizmo, but Ben served the guy fabulous riffle on the back of his head. The second rushed at Ben but didn't stand a chance against Gizmo's favorite frying pan.
-Accidenti mezza sega- those words resonated throughout the entire diner as he noticed his big skillet being dented.
A few moments later, unconscious men were laying, tied down in our broom closet, as we were munching on our bagels. The silence reigned in the room. Pretending nothing has happened didn't really work.
But it did not seem like a good time to add up to already quite an unpleasant morning either. However, last night's discovery couldn't remain secret for any longer. It was in fact, becoming dangerous.
-It was one of us- I just spat it out.
-...we've got a government spy in the gang- Dani clarified.
Those sentences made some eyebrows rise.
-What are you two talking about?- Italian folk paid more attention to us now than the espresso. Dani smacked the table with the Journal.
-From what we know so far, after being a victim themselves, the author wants to play back on the system.- I burst out.
-That's what our pack is all about! Am I right?- he was completely missing our point. Was he doing it on purpose?
-Yeah, but the revenge part is...-you could notice Dani's distress while running fingers through his curly hair-...becoming the Overlord.
-If they're one of us, what's the problem? Maybe that would bring some justice in the New World-then Gizmo giggled kindly-Ah, kiddos, I know, the morning was all stress, but now you can let your guards down a little. It's most likely some crack-head fantasizing about their version of a better world. Hard to blame them. I dream of some utopian scenarios too, and- I just cut him off at the very beginning of something, that seemed like a philosophical monologue:
-You don't understand. If the journal tells the truth, this author climbs up the ladder by selling pretty sensitive information about mobs like ours...
-...so the ministry has everyone on the hook. And everything is in here.- the curly-haired boy looked down.
-Gimme that book.- the worried man grabbed the volume and skimmed through a few pages. You could see from his face, that he finally understood, though remained silent for a few more moments, before looking at Ben, and then at us. Then he announced:
-Ladies and gentlemen, we have a double-crosser in our gang- he pressed the journal to my chest, on his way to the kitchen. None of us knew how to cheer him up after news like that. A hug? Some chocolate? Fettuccine? Apparently, it was not necessary. He yelled from the kitchen while reloading a gun:
-Ben! Watcha waiting for? We have a place to visit! I think I know, who could the mole be.
Just a few moments later, after starting Ben's old pick-up engine, some old-school rock blasted from the speakers.
And they drove away, leaving a dusty trail behind them.
go to Chapter Three: A Little Trip.
go to Chapter One: The Dream Journal.
