Superhero Universe: Tesseracts Nineteen by David Perlmutter, Brent Nichols, Claude Lalumiere, Mark Shainblum, Chadwick Ginther, Michael Matheson, Mary Pletsch, Jennifer Rahn, Corey Redekop, Bevan Thomas Page B
Authors: David Perlmutter, Brent Nichols, Claude Lalumiere, Mark Shainblum, Chadwick Ginther, Michael Matheson, Mary Pletsch, Jennifer Rahn, Corey Redekop, Bevan Thomas
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and the whole thing was already livestreaming on YouTube.
Returning to the door, Gordon cautiously had another fast look through the small window. The psychotic asshole hadn’t moved at all and was still thumb-typing, without a care in the world
Gordon moved around to the shadowed side of the shed again. The walls were so thin that he could hear the guy breathing and faint hints of the electropop that was being pumped into his earphones. When the bowman started moving again, Gordon would be ready to follow. He put his mask back on.
Scanning the rooftops, Gordon spotted his dog’s head. He was looking in his direction. Gordon gave Harvey a single wave and received a sharp bark in return. He was just beginning to hear distant sirens when the footsteps he was waiting for abruptly resumed; after his quarry turned the first corner, Gordon hurried to follow.
He knew he didn’t need to worry too much about noise, but he tried to be silent anyhow, easing the door open as gently as possible. His boots had crepe soles and made almost no sound as he rapidly tiptoed his way down the stairs, leaning heavily on the banisters. He listened for the sound of the footfalls he was following and tried to match them as closely as he could. His problem was not keeping up with the guy while staying out of sight; it was not running into him from behind. He had stopped abruptly to send another text.
The stairwell was deserted but for the two men. Locked in step but always separated by two flights of stairs, they went down three floors before the man with the guitar case exited the stairwell on the fifth floor. The door was similar to the one back on the roof, heavy wood with a small square window cut through it at eye level. Through it, Gordon could see the dark-haired man with the guitar case standing in front of the third door from the end of the hallway, fishing in his pocket, presumably for his keys.
Gordon waited for the sound of the door opening and closing, and a good long minute besides, before easing the stairwell door open and tiptoeing down the hallway. He went just far enough to get a fast look at the apartment number and quickly retreated the way he had come. This was why the guy wasn’t too worried about making a quick getaway; he was already home.
Gordon knew what to do next.
When he got back to the roof, he paused, flipped open one of the tubes on his belt, and extracted a pencil wrapped in a small square of paper. Holding the paper up against the side the shed he scribbled down the apartment number while it was fresh in his mind.
Back on his own rooftop Harvey greeted him joyously. Good ol’ dog! It helped to roll back his anger and sadness a bit. Harvey was good. Some things were good. “It’s a hell of a thing, Harv.”
He opened the access door into his own building and raced down the four floors to his apartment, Harvey always ahead of him, waiting only when a door had to be negotiated. Pulling a key out of his right glove, Gordon unlocked #8-4 and let them both inside. He checked the time on his clock-radio: 10:45 pm.
He pulled off the costume and put on his regular clothes: jeans, T-shirt, sneakers, and his ancient and much-loved jean jacket. Not unlike the guy he was looking to see in handcuffs. He picked his tool-belt off the floor and found the note with the bowman’s address . He put it in his wallet. He slowly looked around his apartment, took a few deep breaths, and then gathered up all the parts of his costume that were strewn around the cramped space. He threw them all into a cardboard box and shoved it into a closet.
Gordon washed out and filled the dog’s water and food bowls to the brim,. He left the large bag of dry food on the floor against the wall of his kitchenette. Harvey could be relied upon not to gorge, taking only as he needed. He was a great dog— uncanny, really. Gordon took an extra minute and gave Harvey a good back rub. Whatever it might’ve done for the dog, it certainly helped
Returning to the door, Gordon cautiously had another fast look through the small window. The psychotic asshole hadn’t moved at all and was still thumb-typing, without a care in the world
Gordon moved around to the shadowed side of the shed again. The walls were so thin that he could hear the guy breathing and faint hints of the electropop that was being pumped into his earphones. When the bowman started moving again, Gordon would be ready to follow. He put his mask back on.
Scanning the rooftops, Gordon spotted his dog’s head. He was looking in his direction. Gordon gave Harvey a single wave and received a sharp bark in return. He was just beginning to hear distant sirens when the footsteps he was waiting for abruptly resumed; after his quarry turned the first corner, Gordon hurried to follow.
He knew he didn’t need to worry too much about noise, but he tried to be silent anyhow, easing the door open as gently as possible. His boots had crepe soles and made almost no sound as he rapidly tiptoed his way down the stairs, leaning heavily on the banisters. He listened for the sound of the footfalls he was following and tried to match them as closely as he could. His problem was not keeping up with the guy while staying out of sight; it was not running into him from behind. He had stopped abruptly to send another text.
The stairwell was deserted but for the two men. Locked in step but always separated by two flights of stairs, they went down three floors before the man with the guitar case exited the stairwell on the fifth floor. The door was similar to the one back on the roof, heavy wood with a small square window cut through it at eye level. Through it, Gordon could see the dark-haired man with the guitar case standing in front of the third door from the end of the hallway, fishing in his pocket, presumably for his keys.
Gordon waited for the sound of the door opening and closing, and a good long minute besides, before easing the stairwell door open and tiptoeing down the hallway. He went just far enough to get a fast look at the apartment number and quickly retreated the way he had come. This was why the guy wasn’t too worried about making a quick getaway; he was already home.
Gordon knew what to do next.
When he got back to the roof, he paused, flipped open one of the tubes on his belt, and extracted a pencil wrapped in a small square of paper. Holding the paper up against the side the shed he scribbled down the apartment number while it was fresh in his mind.
Back on his own rooftop Harvey greeted him joyously. Good ol’ dog! It helped to roll back his anger and sadness a bit. Harvey was good. Some things were good. “It’s a hell of a thing, Harv.”
He opened the access door into his own building and raced down the four floors to his apartment, Harvey always ahead of him, waiting only when a door had to be negotiated. Pulling a key out of his right glove, Gordon unlocked #8-4 and let them both inside. He checked the time on his clock-radio: 10:45 pm.
He pulled off the costume and put on his regular clothes: jeans, T-shirt, sneakers, and his ancient and much-loved jean jacket. Not unlike the guy he was looking to see in handcuffs. He picked his tool-belt off the floor and found the note with the bowman’s address . He put it in his wallet. He slowly looked around his apartment, took a few deep breaths, and then gathered up all the parts of his costume that were strewn around the cramped space. He threw them all into a cardboard box and shoved it into a closet.
Gordon washed out and filled the dog’s water and food bowls to the brim,. He left the large bag of dry food on the floor against the wall of his kitchenette. Harvey could be relied upon not to gorge, taking only as he needed. He was a great dog— uncanny, really. Gordon took an extra minute and gave Harvey a good back rub. Whatever it might’ve done for the dog, it certainly helped
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