Marc W Shako
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Tall Tales: A Blog

of the Unexpected

A blog of short stories and spooky tales of the paranormal
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Infinity (part four)

3/3/2017

 
Born with a strange birthmark, and found by an unusual group, our hero
discovers that they have a plan for him... But it's about to get dark.

Missed the beginning? Not to worry! Read part one here!

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This is the moment where if we were watching a movie, you’d get a montage. Don’t worry with why they want me, I’m getting there. So, montage. Three months of training. Driving with Sadie. Stunt driving around/through the hangar in the cars and the van. Fitness and combat with Dax in the corner gym. Weapons with Iggy. It all goes well. Ups and downs. I get a six-pack (can you believe that shit?!). I teach them to navigate their way around a computer. That doesn’t go so quick. Dax is pretty good. Iggy is fucking hopeless. I’m a lousy shot, so we’re even. Anyway, Dax wants us all to be able to step in, do each other’s shit, in case we get in trouble. Trouble-trouble.

Now, Mr (or Mrs) Impatient, the why. You asked, I’m telling you. But it ain’t nice. Dax told me one dark night in the dim confines of our cold living space, rain pounding off the hangar roof, and when he did, I threw up. I’m not ashamed to tell you that. If you really want to know, read on.

There are some fucking sick people in this world, and in my humble opinion, we’re dealing with the sickest. Not those greedy fucks that kill people who develop alternative energy which would break our reliance on the fossil fuels that are fucking up the planet. Yes, that really happens. Don’t be so fucking naïve. Look it up. Not those disingenuous pricks who tell us that Country X is bad, or that Leader Y has to be removed ‘for democracy’ or to ‘preserve our national security’, so that we send our bright young things to kill someone they’d otherwise have no beef with. Yes, those people exist, both in government and in media. Christ, read a book once in a while. And shut of your TV, that fucking thing will poison your mind till you can’t tell up from down.

No, as much as I’d like to, we’re not dealing with them. We’re dealing with worse.

So we all get these birthmarks, right? The birthmark tells us in which year of life we will die. It helps us plan things. Like Last Parties. It helps us deal with bereavement. There are actually a lot of positives. Just like any other positive shit, a small group of people fucking ruin it for everyone else, because people are assholes.

Picture this delightful scenario: somebody goes missing. The cops put a lot of effort into finding that person. A lot. But if two people go missing, one with a lot of time left and one with a little time left, who do you think the cops focus on? Sucks, I know, but in the harsh reality of the real world, it kinda makes sense in its own perverse way. If somebody has twenty, thirty plus years of life left, they’ll put more effort into that person’s recovery. Sure, there’s a strong argument, a Hulk plus Superman strong argument that those with less time should get more resources spent on their recovery, but we’re talking harsh reality now. This is dark. I warned you. I feel sick telling you this, but if a kid goes missing, and that kid only has a year or two left… They are almost society’s forgotten people. It’s heart-breaking, but it’s real. The cops tell you it ain’t so, but you meet enough cops who can’t take it so they commit a slow alcohol-related suicide that’ll tell you otherwise.

Because of this shitty part of our reality, young children with single-figure birthmarks are targeted for kidnapping. A lot. The statistics are out there, but nobody likes to see them. It’s ignored like the vanishing inventors who don’t want us to kill the planet, and the wars we fight because we’re (and here I mean YOU’RE) brainwashed into thinking it’s right. Taken by who, for what purpose? I don’t know for sure, but your mind kinda jumps to the worst fucking possibility.

This is what Dax told me before my training. Motivation. Hence, six-pack.

“So what are we doing? And why do you need me?”

“The people who take the kids aren’t the ones who use the kids.”

The word ‘use’ makes me want to throw up again.

Iggy pipes up, “We kill the kidnappers, that’s great, but there’ll always be more of those ready to step in and replace them.”

The kidnappers are those with short-expectancies wanting to leave something behind for their families. Fucked up. I’ve seen where they’re going, don’t worry.

Sadie says, “But if we follow them, we can get names, faces. Information.”

And that’s where I come in. “So you want me to find out how high up this shit goes? And then what?”

Dax smiles. “Then, my brother, we take them down.”

Read Part Five of INFINITY (where our heroes get down to business) here!

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MARC W. SHAKO is a novelist of speculative fiction, screenwriter, and aficionado of all things paranormal, from Yorkshire, England. When not reading or writing about the undead, hauntings, modern-day wolf-men and UFOs, Marc can be found watching football, playing the guitar with various degrees of success, or engrossed in his latest addiction – binge-listening to podcasts.
  • Home
  • Books
    • The Death of Laszlo Breyer
    • Flight 187
    • Ghosts of September
    • The Wilde Diaries
    • Infinity
    • Non Fiction
  • Screenplays
    • Rush of the Dead
    • Soothsayer
  • Blog
  • Contact