A Perfect Machine

“Shit,” said Marcton. “Let’s get off the street in case someone comes looking out the nurse’s window. No idea who’s up there or what’s happening, so best to stay hidden.”

When the others had already moved off the street, Marcton had to pull Cleve away by the collar, still staring up, slack-jawed and curious. “Damn, I missed it,” Cleve said, a bizarre sense of wonderment filling his voice.

Getting off the street obscured their view a bit, but they could still mostly see the corner of the target building. They watched quietly in the darkness for another few minutes, aware of the sirens creeping closer. Bill and Melvin were tasked with keeping their eyes peeled in case the cops, ambulance, or fire trucks used the street they were on to get to the apartment building.

Just then, more glass shattered and another body flew out over a balcony, fell to the pavement – this time a full body, crashing through the window of the apartment directly above the nurse’s. And this time Cleve saw it too.

“Wow,” he said. “Just fucking wow. You know?” He glanced around at the others, a big dumb grin on his face as though he were a small child watching his first fireworks show.

Marcton didn’t respond. His mind raced as he tried to put the pieces together. He stood thinking for a moment, then said, “We need to get out in front of this. Like, now.”

“What do you want us to do?” Melvin asked.

“Lemme think, hang on. Just lemme…” He rocked side to side, weighing options, possibilities, a deep frown creasing his features. Finally: “Alright, look: whoever’s doing that shit is gonna need to vamoose real fucking soon with the heat that’s coming down on that place, right?”

Everyone nodded.

“So. We position two at the front, two round back, and when the fucker or fuckers come out, we bag their asses. Got it?”

More nods, but Cleve looked skeptical.

Marcton sighed. “Speak up, Cleve, or forever hold your goddamn peace. We don’t have all day to debate.”

“Nah, it’s just… Well, that seems pretty simple. And also something they’d be expecting. I mean, wouldn’t it be better to have the element of surprise? Just rush in there and fuck their shit up before they even know what hit ’em?”

As much as Marcton hated to admit it, Cleve might have a point. “Alright, fine, two up the back stairs, two up the front.”

“We’re assuming the building has two sets of stairs,” Melvin said.

Bill nodded. “Yeah, we can’t just assume that. And what about the elevator?”

“Also,” Cleve said, “fire escape.”

“Jesus, when did you guys develop independent thought?” Marcton said. “Fine. Christ. Me and Cleve inside, rushing up the stairs – if there’s only one set, we’ll both use that one. Bill and Melvin, hang down at the bottom of the fire escape. Fuck the elevator – no one in a killing-spree rush is taking the time to wait for elevators.”

Everyone looked satisfied with this plan.

“Great, now can we go?” Marcton said, turned, and started walking toward the building again.

“Actually,” Cleve said, “is it really a good idea to split up? I mean, shouldn’t we–”

There was an enormous crash then, like a bus slamming into a concrete wall. All four of them whipped their heads around in the direction of the sound.

For a moment they saw nothing, but then a dark shape nearly as big as a dump truck passed in front of the moon. The man-shaped thing seemed to hang there for longer than seemed possible, then it fell quickly to the pavement of the front parking lot. They heard an incredible crash, but could not see what happened because a line of trees and a row of bungalows obscured their view.

The event hung between the four men for a long moment, then Cleve broke the silence, saying, “So we’re gonna run now, right? Like, toward home?”



* * *



But as much as they’d wanted to run – as much as Cleve had really pushed for that to happen – they hadn’t. Marcton calmed his men down as best he could by telling them he’d seen the creature, or whatever it was, holding onto something. Maybe someone. He said it had certainly looked like a person to him for that brief moment it was lit by the moon.

“I saw it when the thing turned to position itself for its descent. I saw something, anyway. And what if it was Palermo? What if neither of those two dead bodies that got tossed were him, and then we just fucking leave because we’re scared?”

“Well, shit, Marcton,” Melvin countered, “if that thing was holding Palermo, what chance do you think he’s got? I don’t want to desert him, either, but we have to use our heads here.”

Bill and Cleve stayed quiet while this conversation went on. They were both just jittery, looking over their shoulders every few seconds, on the verge of bolting at any moment. Somewhere nearby, someone locked their car, the horn beeping twice. Cleve nearly nearly shit himself.

But the discussion was brief, and Marcton was no longer in the mood for democracy. “I’m moving to intercept. You can leave if you want, but think on this: if you desert me out here – and maybe Palermo, too – expect to find a knife in your fucking guts the moment I get back to the warehouse.”

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