Author: Charlie Farrow

Bonus – Inviolable

Published by Charlie Farrow on January 3, 2018

Charlie, Impact Day

I didn’t know where I was. Nothing around me felt real. It wasn’t darkness, it was just… nothing. Void. Absence.

My bedroom? Similar, but wrong. Not quite what I remembered. Or rather, perfectly what I remembered. Not the reality. A fake.

“Charlie,” a voice whispered. I turned.

It was standing there, dark and hulking, insubstantial but very present. Destructive energy radiated from it, hot and cold and vibrant.

“What the… Where am I?” I asked.

“Inside,” it said. Great. That doesn’t answer anything.

“And you are…?”

“The Destroyer,” it told me.

“That’s some title,” I said, looking around. It was the only real thing here.

The creature seemed amused. It moved closer, without any physical motion. It was simply closer.

“You’re not as intimidated by me as I’d have expected,” it said.

“I get that a lot. I guess I forgot how to be intimidated this past year.”

“Perhaps you don’t understand what I am,” it said.

“I know you’re a part of me,” I said, taking myself by surprise. I did know that, but how?

“No, Charlie,” it said. “You are me. Just another in a long line.”

I tried to wrap my head around that. I couldn’t quite manage it. Rachel would have understood it, but Rachel wasn’t here. Nobody was here, except me.

“You’re the reason I’m immortal,” I said, again without realising I was going to speak.

“You’re not immortal,” it said, trying to correct me. Then, it corrected itself. “Or, you weren’t. What you were was inviolable. You would have died of old age.”

Inviolable. I liked that.

“What changed?” I asked. “Wendy’s blood?”

“It’s what was in that blood,” it told me. “You should never have brought that here.”

By here, I instinctively knew it was referring to the void we both occupied. It meant I should never have brought it inside myself.

I looked down. There was a shard of broken glass on the… well, it wasn’t ground. But it was what I was standing on. And the shard, it wasn’t glass. It was a mirror.

“What am I looking at, here?” I asked, not particularly concerned.

“Heresy,” it said, in a tone that sent a chill down my spine.

“Cool,” I said, though I didn’t feel it.

“Charlie, you’ve ruined everything,” it said, and for the first time, it sounded desperate.

“What, afraid of your own reflection?” I joked.

“You’ve broken the cycle,” it said, in a mixture of anger and pain. “You’ve corrupted us. You’ve brought the impossible into our world. Charlie, you—”

“Don’t care,” I interrupted. And in that moment, in that tiny, insignificant moment, it was true.

“What?”

“Do you know what the world out there is like?” I asked.

“Intimately,” it replied.

“So you know why I need this power,” I said. “It’s the only way to make a difference.”

“You really believe that… I knew there was something about you. I knew I shouldn’t have chosen you. I thought…”

The creature, whatever it was, shuddered, blinking in and out of sight. When I couldn’t see it, I felt unsettled.

“You know what, how about you start answering some of my questions,” I said. “Who are you? What are you?”

It didn’t answer. It just disappeared, leaving me alone, in an empty space, save for a shard of mirror.

I looked down at the mirror.

I didn’t see my own face reflected. I saw another face, an unfamiliar face. A face I couldn’t begin to describe, because it fitted every description, and none. It wasn’t changing, but it wasn’t static, either.

It grinned.

Next Week: Impact Day

Chapter 56 – Tell Me You Weren’t Expecting This

Published by Charlie Farrow on December 10, 2017

Charlie, Impact Day

Being dragged to the interrogation room was never fun, but there was an urgency to them that lit a spark of hope in me. Something had changed. Something had unsettled them.

My old friend greeted me, his standard impatient scowl replaced with an almost ecstatic grin. That was less encouraging.

“You look happy,” I said, refusing to be intimidated. “Good day?”

“The very best,” he said, with an air of smugness that made me want to punch him in the throat. More than the usual amount.

“Care to share?”

“Your plan has fallen apart,” he said. “There’s no rescue coming.”

Butterflies in my stomach. He was too confident.

“What did they do, throw in the towel?”

“We have them,” he said. “You’ve lost.”

“Who?” I demanded, not giving up hope. So long as he didn’t say—

“Judging by their physical descriptions, I’m guessing young Aidan and Elizabeth,” he said, and my breath caught in my throat. My heart starting pounding, and I forced myself to rest my hands on the table, betraying nothing. I would give him nothing.

“How do you know you capturing them isn’t part of my plan?” I asked, but it was a weak plan. Didn’t matter.

“They showed their hands just a little too early, I’m afraid,” he said. “You never told me they were like you.”

“What do you mean, like me?”

“You know what I mean,” he snapped. “Immortal.”

“They’re not,” I said.

“Don’t lie to me,” he hissed.

“Dude, I told you everything,” I lied. “You’d know if they were—”

“You fed me nothing but bullshit for six months,” he said. “And now, I don’t need you anymore.”

“Oh,” I said, realising the point of this meeting. “You’re not here to ask questions. You’re just here to gloat.”

“I’m going to drop you in a hole,” he said, almost whispered. There was something intimate about it. “I’m going to drop you down the deepest hole I can find, and then I’m going to fill it with acid, and seal you in. And you can sit in there for the rest of your miserable life, because I never need to speak to you, ever again!”

“Is that all?” I taunted him. “After everything else you’ve tried, I thought you were more creative than that.”

“I don’t need to be creative,” he replied. “I just need you far away from me, and suffering.”

Without warning, an alarm staring blaring throughout the facility. It was a shrieking, echoing sound that hurt my ears. I didn’t mind. It bothered him a whole lot more.

“What the Hell?” he demanded, pulling out his phone.

“It’s about time,” I said, relaxing into my chair. He hesitated, looking back at me.

“What are you talking about?” he snarled.

I wanted to milk it, but I knew time was short. I was going to have to enjoy my victory privately, later on.

“I told you they would come for me,” I said. “I didn’t think it would take them this long, but hey. I’ll take what I can get.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” he growled. “Whatever you’ve got cooked up, we can handle it. You’re not going anywhere.”

I grinned, and the effect it had on him was delicious. He looked like he was on the verge of throwing a tantrum.

“If they made it here, it means they’re capable of dealing with anything you can throw at them,” I said. “I made sure of that.”

He sat back down, staring at me. I could feel the tension emanating from him, every whine of the alarm drilling it further into him.

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? You really thought you were in control? You thought you’d won by capturing me? Who the fuck do you think I am?” I asked, and he moved backwards.

“Tell me,” he said, the desperation creeping into his voice. “What are they? What’s happening?”

“I’m done talking,” I said. “I tried to help you understand. I really did. And now, you’re fucked. And I could not be happier about that.”

“You’re bluffing,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

“Believe what you want,” I replied. “I don’t have time for this. They are going to tear through your goons like a hot knife through butter, and I really don’t want them to see the next part, so we’re gonna have to cut this short.”

“I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.”

“No, you’re definitely not,” I said. I folded my hands over one another, and before he could process what I was about to do, I snapped several of the bones in my hand. I barely felt the pain at all.

With the broken bones, it was easy to slip out of the handcuffs. He stood up, fumbling in his suit to pull out a gun, but I didn’t need to rush. I just pushed the bones back into place, letting them re-set.

“Tell me you didn’t see this coming,” I mocked him.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, pointing the gun at me. I just smiled at him.

“You don’t think that’s actually gonna work, do you?”

“I’ve shot you enough times to know how this goes,” he said, his hand trembling. “You’ll go down long enough for me to subdue you.”

“You’ll have to hit me first.”

I rushed at him, vaulting over the table. He was quicker than I expected, though. I managed to cover the distance, but not before the echoing boom of a gunshot filled the room. The force of the bullet knocked me over backwards, and I collapsed, darkness filling my vision.

“Done, he said, his confidence returning. He crouched over me as my vision faded, grabbing the loose handcuff. I could feel his breath on my chin.

I opened my eyes.

He twitched, surprised. He tried to raise his gun.

He was too slow.

I grabbed the edge of the handcuff, driving it into his face, right through his eye. He screamed, fell backwards as I drove it in deeper, into his skull, through the gap. Into his brain.

His body convulsed. I took his gun, firing several shots directly into his head. I took one more shot, shattering the handcuffs.

“I told you,” I said, breathing heavily. “I fucking told you I was going to kill you.”

He couldn’t hear me, but I didn’t care. I felt…

Numb.

The alarms were still blaring. I needed to move, needed to get somewhere different. The armoury.

I pulled myself to my feet, trying to shake the adrenaline. Don’t focus on what just happened. Don’t think about murder.

I patted his body down, finding the keys to the room. Idiot. He was scared of being locked in with me, so much so that he risked bringing a key into my room. Either that or he was so confident I couldn’t get to him that he didn’t consider it a risk. Either way, he was stupid.

I unlocked the door, and the two guards were ready for me. They must have heard the gunshots. I doubted it was me they were expecting, but they were definitely prepared for trouble.

It felt so good to move about freely again. My body was stiff and achey, but no less mobile. I disarmed the two guards and knocked them out before either of them could fire a single shot.

Still got it.

The alarm was a constant reminder. Time was running short. More guards would be bearing down on me at any moment.

I ran.

Next Week: We Need To Get You Out Of Here

Chapter 41 – You Really Do Think You’re The Centre Of The World

Published by Charlie Farrow on August 21, 2017

Part 5 – The Disappearance Of Charlotte Farrow

One Week Before Impact Day

He raised an eyebrow, hands still folded in front of him. Something told me his patience had officially reached an end.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he sighed. “Aidan Scott, a seventeen-year-old boy and your adoptive brother, is the leader of the Stars?”

“Yep.”

“That stupid device we found was a trick designed by your girlfriend?”

“Two for two,” I said.

“We’ve been on the hunt for two teenagers out of their depth, because you took six fucking months to get to the point where we captured you?” His rage was almost palpable.

“Like I said, I wasn’t expecting to be here this long,” I told him.

“You still think they’re going to save you?” he asked, condescending and cruel.

“In a manner of speaking,” I said. “I already told you enough that you should be figure out my plan. No amount of torture is going to get more out of me.”

“You—”

He raised his hand, like he was going to hit me, but restrained himself. How odd. I watched, tense, as he took a deep breath.

“Tell me again about the cracks,” he said. “Tell me about your obsession with narrative, and dramatic irony. Did you just make those parts up for my sake?”

“What kind of a hack storyteller do you think I am?”

“I wasn’t aware you considered yourself any kind of storyteller,” he said.

“I grew up with stories,” I told him. “Books, movies, comics, anything. For a long time, it was all I had, the only way I could escape from all the negative thoughts in my head. It’s how I learned to understand the world.”

“You’re trying my patience,” he warned.

“Look, there are two ways you could look at this. Either my obsession with stories has coloured the way I perceive my own life, or…”

“Or?”

“Or you start listening to me, and realise just how fucking stupid this whole goddamned story is,” I said.

“Are you telling me you made it up?”

“No,” I snapped. “That’s my point. It’s all real, and that’s the weirdest fucking part, alright?”

“You’re not making any sense,” he said.

“Ugh, do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Watch your tone,” he threatened.

“Oh my god, I am so over your threats,” I said. “I’m obsessed with stories. I’m obsessed with heroes. I was before I ever knew I was immortal. Now I’m a fucking vigilante with an assassin and an information broker for friends? A fucking supernatural genius for a girlfriend?”

He shook his head.

“Your ego is astonishing,” he said. “Though I suppose, under the circumstances, that’s not entirely beyond understanding.”

“Do you know how many cities have a larger population than Melbourne?” I asked him.

“I have no idea.”

“Somewhere around seventy,” I said. “It’s less than two hundred years old. In the grand scheme of the world, it’s a nothing city.”

“Is this going somewhere?”

“Why Melbourne?” I asked. “Why would all of this be happening here, and not somewhere else? Why not Tokyo, or Beijing, or New York?”

“I’m assuming you have an answer for that,” he said.

“Because of me,” I said. “How do you not see that?”

“You really do think you’re the centre of the world, don’t you?”

“Why not?” I asked. “I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not.”

“And what about Wendy?” he asked. “What is she, and why is she relevant to your story?”

“Eventually, Rachel’s gonna convince her to bust in here and rescue me,” I said, though every day I felt less confident.

“I think it’s about time you give up on that, don’t you?” he said coldly. “Besides, I already told you, even if everything you’ve said about her is true, she won’t be able to save you. She won’t even be able to find you.”

“We’ll see,” I said. “I’m not ready to give up yet.”

“I’ll break you eventually,” he said. “That’s a promise.”

Next Week: Maybe Everything’s Fine

Chapter 40 – Fate Can Suck My Dick

Published by Charlie Farrow on August 7, 2017

Six Months Before Impact Day

Aidan was livid, fussing about Liz’s wounded leg like a flustered nurse. For her part, she just kept trying to bat him away.

“It’s fine,” she kept saying.

“Do you not see the bullet hole in your leg?” he demanded, before shooting a withering glare my way. “This is your fault, you know.”

“I knew the risks,” Liz said.

“Let’s not lose focus,” I added. “We need you monitoring the warehouse. They’ll take that bait sooner or later.”

Aidan sighed, giving Liz a moment of peace as he went back over to his laptop.

“They haven’t done anything yet,” he said. “You did give them enough information, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I replied irritably.

“And you didn’t make it too obvious?”

“Do you have any faith in me?” I asked.

“She did fine,” Liz said, backing me up. “I’m sure they’re just being cautious.”

Rachel’s fake doomsday device was sitting there, guarded by a token amount of ex-security guards paid anonymously by Aidan. So long as Vengeance tried to raid the place, they’d find it without any problems.

“Liz, you’ll be out of action for weeks like this,” Aidan complained.

“You’re underestimating me,” she said. “Besides, you did a great job of cleaning the wound. How do you even know how to do that?”

“I just do,” he said defensively.

“She’s got time to recover, anyway,” I reminded him. “We won’t need to move on Vengeance for a little while yet.”

“Assuming nothing goes wrong,” he said petulantly.

“What could possibly go wrong?” I asked, knowing full well just how easily things could fall apart.

“You can’t be serious.”

“There’s nothing wrong with optimism,” Liz said. “You’re too cynical, Aidan.”

“One of us has to be,” he muttered. “Besides, you should know better than to tempt fate, Charlie.”

“Man, fate can suck my dick,” I said.

“Charming,” he said dryly. “Just… be on the lookout for dramatic irony.”

“You spend too much time with Mark,” I said. “You’re starting to think like a writer. Actually, speaking of Mark, have you heard from him lately?”

“I have, yeah. He’s all kinds of suspicious, but there isn’t a lot he can do.”

“What did you tell him?” I asked.

“The three of us ran away to start a band,” he said.

“That’s the best you could come up with?”

“I don’t see you talking to him,” he snapped.

“What would I even say to him?”

“I don’t know, that you’re sorry? He raised you for ten years and you care more about playing hero than making sure he knows you’re alright?”

“Aidan!” Liz said, shocked.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “That was uncalled for. I’m just stressed out. I wasn’t built for all of this, you know?”

“I don’t think anyone ever is,” I said. “Anyway, I think I need some fresh air.”

“Charlie, I’m sorry,” Aidan said. “Really.”

“It’s fine,” I lied. “I just want to stretch my legs, that’s all.”

“Just let her go,” Liz said.

I left the two of them alone, my head in the clouds as I took the elevator down to the ground floor.

All I wanted was to talk to Rachel, to hold her hand, to curl up next to her. She grounded me like nobody else did, and she supported me without question or hesitation. It wasn’t like I didn’t appreciate Liz and Aidan’s contributions, but it was getting a little tiring, feeling like I had to justify myself to them constantly.

Who’d have thought the superhero life would be so full of petty drama?

I didn’t even notice the five armed men until they were already surrounding me. I felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against the back of my skull, and a pretty man with silky black hair smiled at me.

“Hello, Charlotte,” he said.

How did they find me? How do they know my name?

“Can I help you?” I asked, trying to sound less terrified than I was. I had no way of fighting my way out of this situation.

Security footage. They tracked me from that. Which means they probably also saw me get shot, and recover.

“We’re taking you with us,” he said, with a wicked grin.

“I’ll scream,” I bluffed.

“We’ll shoot you first,” he said, unfazed. “Something tells me you’ll be easier to move that way anyway.”

This is too on the nose, even for me, I thought bitterly. Is god working against me? Am I just cursed? Am I really just this unlucky?

…did Aidan plan this?

“Let’s get it over with, then,” I said, moments before the world went dark.

Next Week: Aberrations Like You

Chapter 39 – This Is Beyond Ridiculous

Published by Charlie Farrow on July 31, 2017

Six Months Before Impact Day

“You really think this is gonna stop us?” I asked, spitting out blood.

“Us?” the man in the suit inquired, wiping blood off his knuckles.

“What, you really thought I was working alone?” I laugh in his face. “Dude, you have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

“I will, soon enough,” he said, pulling out a pair of bolt cutters.

“Very threatening,” I said dryly. “Do you ever get tired of being a walking cliché?”

“At least I can walk,” he shot back. “If you don’t answer my questions, you may never walk again.”

That probably would have been threatening if there was any actual risk. Still, I wasn’t ready to reveal my immortality to them just yet. That came at a later stage of the plan.

“Walking is overrated,” I said. “Are you always so easily goaded? Maybe you should find someone with more chill to handle the interrogation.”

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I always wanted to be that guy who sassed his interrogators,” I told him. “You know, so he seems cool and in control? And the villains get nervous ‘cause they think he has something up his sleeve, so they slip up and that’s what lets him escape.”

“I’ll be sure not to take anything you say seriously, then.”

“There’s one thing you should take seriously,” I said. “There’s a tracking chip embedded in my collarbone. My backup is already on the way.”

“You’re stalling,” he said.

“Well, I’m not exactly in a hurry to have my fingers and toes snipped off, I’ll admit,” I said. “But I wasn’t lying.”

“Well, now we’ll be ready for them.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” I said. “But anyway, you haven’t even asked me any questions yet, so if I am stalling, it must be working.”

“Are you trying to coach me through this interrogation?” he asked, incredulous.

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job,” I told him. “And we’re kind of on a timer here.”

“This is beyond ridiculous,” he muttered.

“You’re telling me. Now, come on. Chop chop.” I laughed at my own joke. “I’ll never tell you the location of the rebel base.”

Without warning, he hit me again, a vicious backhand across the face. It split my lip, and I was grateful for the dried blood coating my mouth. It would cover the healing wounds.

“Who are you working with?” he demanded.

“Really? That’s your first question?”

He hit me again, this time with the side of the bolt cutters.

“Who are you working with?”

“Private organisation,” I said. “Try not to hit me in the mouth. If you break my jaw, I won’t be able to talk.”

He responded by thrusting the bolt cutters into my chest, knocking the wind out of me.

“I want a name,” he said.

“We don’t have a name,” I wheezed. “But you can call us the Rebel Alliance.”

“What do you want?”

“Equal rights and a socialist democracy?”

He hit me again, and I felt a rib crack. Arsehole.

“What do you want?”

“I want you and the rest of your shitty gang out of my fucking city,” I said. “Like that wasn’t obvious.”

“Too bad for you,” he snarled. “How many of you are there?”

I winced, pretending to be in more pain than I was actually feeling.

“I work alone.”

This time, he slammed my hand down on the table, holding a finger between the bolt cutters.

“You think I won’t do this?”

“Less than fifty,” I said, faking a waver in my voice. “Mostly cops and army reserves.”

“That’s better,” he said. “And a little pathetic. Where do you meet?”

“At the butcher,” I said, and he just stared, blankly.

“What?”

“It was a joke,” I said. “You know, meet, meat…”

The bolt cutters pressed against my finger, drawing blood.

“I won’t ask again.”

“There’s a warehouse,” I lied. “Down by the docks. Red roof, grey walls. Can’t miss it.”

“Now you’re getting it,” he said.

“And you’re out of time,” I told him. “Backup’s here.”

“What—”

Liz dropped down from the ceiling, catching him with a blow to the throat before he could do anything. His fingers clamped up, and so did the bolt cutters, severing my finger.

“Fuck!”

“Language,” Liz muttered, through the balaclava that covered her face. “Let’s go.”

The two of us made our way towards the exit, but a booming sound stopped us in our tracks. Liz stumbled, and I whirled to see the interrogator holding a gun. I glanced down at Liz.

Just her leg. No stress. It’ll heal.

I raced across the room, taking a glancing bullet to the shoulder. Painful, but nothing I couldn’t deal with. I crashed into the bastard, slamming his head against the wall and wrenching the gun from his hands.

Giving him a kick to the groin for good measure, I rushed over to Liz.

“You okay?”

“I’ll live,” she grunted. “Help me up.”

Carefully, I slung her arm over my shoulder, and together, we hobbled out, disappearing into the night.

That honestly couldn’t have gone better.

Next Week: Fate Can Suck My Dick

Chapter 38 – You Think I Don’t Know What You’re Up To?

Published by Charlie Farrow on July 24, 2017

Six Months Before Impact Day

“I think we’re just about ready,” I announced.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to go ahead with this?” Liz asked, a worried expression on her face.

“I’m not saying I’m looking forward to it,” I said. “But it’s the only way we’re ever gonna make any progress.”

“So long as everyone does their job, she’ll be perfectly safe,” Rachel said, with a pointed glance in Liz’s direction. Perfect timing.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Liz snapped. “Your job is already done, and you’re not exactly putting yourself on the line.”

“Oh that’s right,” Rachel said, taking the bait, “I forgot the only meaningful contributions come from an actual murderer.”

“I am not a murderer,” Liz said through gritted teeth. “I have never killed a single person in my life.”

“Right, right, sorry,” Rachel said dryly. “You haven’t actually killed anyone, you’ve only profited from murder. But I’m sure you never enjoyed the mansion your parents bought with their blood money, or the fancy clothes, or the five-star restaurants. And hey, they probably killed someone to pay for this apartment too, but I guess we can just ignore that, since they were kind enough to let us use it.”

“There’s a difference between an assassin and a murderer,” Liz said, clearly trying not to shout. “My parents don’t choose who lives and dies. They’re weapons, and if they don’t do it, someone else will.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Rachel said dismissively. “They’re still contributing to a system where those with money control the lives of those that don’t. Oh, but I’m sure they only kill bad people, right?”

“They—”

“They don’t choose, you just said so. So who does? Crime lords with more money than my family’s made in eight generations? Businessmen who profit of the labour of the working class? Politicians who represent people who make less than a tenth of what they do?”

Aidan put a hand on Liz’s arm. I could feel the tension from across the room, but didn’t say anything. Rachel was pressing all of Liz’s buttons perfectly.

Just like I’d told her to.

“Let’s not punish Liz for the actions of her parents,” Aidan said carefully. “Regardless of whether or not you agree with them, Liz is her own person, who makes her own choices, and she’s helping us.”

“Oh, she just has you wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she?” Rachel said, a vicious glint in her eye. She might be enjoying this too much…

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aidan demanded.

“Dude, she’s not into you,” Rachel said. “She’s leading you on, because she’s in love with Charlie, and she hates me because Charlie chose me.”

“How dare you,” Liz snapped, going very, very still.

Please don’t try to kill Rachel, I begged silently.

“Am I wrong?” Rachel goaded.

“It doesn’t matter,” Aidan insisted. “We’re here because we all want to help Charlie.”

“Right, like you don’t have anything to gain from this,” Rachel said threateningly.

“I don’t follow,” Aidan said, but there was a shift in him. He was cautious now, wary.

“You think I don’t know what you’re up to?” she asked. “You think I don’t know about your Stars?”

“It’s just an information network—”

“Sure, sure. And the half-million dollars you’ve made in the past month, that’s all to help Charlie?”

Liz looked at him, stunned. I followed suit, even though I already knew about it.

“Aidan, is that true?” I asked, hoping it didn’t sound too rehearsed.

“It’s not as bad as she makes it sound,” he said quickly. “I’ve been buying and selling information between high-profile gang members. It’s not like that’s a profit, I’m using it for you.”

“Really?”

“How do you think I’ve gotten all the names and locations I have?” he asked, with just an edge of desperation.

“So you’re not planning on just taking over with a gang of your own?” Rachel asked, and Aidan visibly flinched. It was a perfect hit, not just because of the tension, but because the guilt would delay him doing exactly that.

He’s so clever, and yet so easily to manipulate. He’ll be a lot harder to manage when I can’t keep a close eye on him.

“Why would I want that?” he asked.

“Why are you looking for a fight?” Liz demanded. Finally.

“Because unlike you, I actually care about Charlie,” Rachel said. “And I don’t trust either of you.”

“Can you stop acting like you’re better than us?” Liz snapped, inching closer and closer to her breaking point.

“Can you stop believing you’re better than me?” Rachel said. “I get it, you’re rich, you go to a private school, you could kill someone with a single touch but you’re too good to do it. Take your moral superiority and shove it up your arse, Liz.”

“You’re such a petty bitch,” Liz growled. “You wanna be jealous, fine. Be jealous. But take your issues somewhere else, because we have a job to do, and if you have a problem with me, you can just… fuck off!”

I think that was the first time I ever heard Liz swear. It was a little scary, but mostly funny, and I had to try really hard not to laugh.

I kept a straight face as Rachel slammed her fists down on the table, rising with a furious energy.

“Fine. You win.”

“Wait, what?” I asked, right on cue.

“I’m leaving,” Rachel said. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t!” I pleaded, glancing back at Liz and Aidan.

“It’s like Liz said, my job is done,” Rachel said. “You don’t need me anymore, and I’m clearly not wanted here. So I’m gonna go.”

“Rachel, I can’t do this without you!” I cried, grabbing her arm.

“Yes, you can,” she said. “Just try not to let these idiots talk you into something stupid.”

Before I could stop her, she stormed out of the building, leaving Aidan and Liz flabbergasted. After several minutes of silence, I glared at them.

“Are you happy now?”

“That was her fault,” Liz said.

“Do you guys not get how important she is to me?” I asked. “Could you not have even made an effort?”

“Charlie, we’ve been making an effort,” Aidan said. “For months now.”

“She was the one who had a problem with us,” Liz added. “We know you love her, but surely you have to see that.”

“Fine,” I said. “It’s done now, anyway.”

“You’re not gonna go after her?” Aidan asked.

“No. She clearly doesn’t want me to, and like she said, we have work to do.”

“Let’s get to work, then,” Liz said.

Next Week: This Is Beyond Ridiculous

Chapter 37 – I’m Not Okay

Published by Charlie Farrow on July 17, 2017

Seven Months Before Impact Day

“Can I talk to you?” Sadie asked, fidgeting nervously.

“Of course you can,” I said, putting my book down.

It was nearly four in the morning, and I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d slept. My body seemed to have given up on it entirely.

“I… wanted to apologise,” Sadie said. “For everything I’ve said.”

“What brought this on?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “A bad feeling, I guess. If something happened to you…”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me,” I said. “You know I’ll be fine.”

“So you keep saying. Just humour me, okay?”

“Alright, I’m listening. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about Rachel,” she said. “That was really douchey of me. I think I was just jealous, because you had someone else to, you know.”

She looked so forlorn. I reached out, placing a hand on hers.

“You know you’re always gonna be important to me, don’t you? You’re the only family I have.”

“That’s why I’m so worried about all this vigilante stuff,” she said. “I know I keep saying this, but I can’t get the idea out of my head. What if they take you and lock you up somewhere?”

“Then at least I’ll have you,” I told her. “And besides, whatever they do to me, Rachel will find me.”

“Why can’t you take anything seriously?”

I sighed, closing my eyes and leaning back.

“Because everything about this is ridiculous,” I told her. “I’m living in a goddamned comic book, Sadie. My sister’s a ghost, I’m immortal, our city is more full of gang crime than Gotham. My best friends are an assassin and… I don’t even know what Aidan is. My girlfriend is a genius, and everywhere I look, I see cracks.”

“Cracks?”

I couldn’t help but to laugh.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Sadie. Everywhere I look, it’s like the world is falling apart. There are cracks everywhere, cracks in impossible places, and I’d swear I was losing my mind if not for everything else that was going on.”

I’d never actually said that out loud before. It felt surprisingly cathartic.

“I don’t understand you,” Sadie said. “You act like all of this is so unbelievable, so extraordinary, but this is the world we live in. You’re the only one who finds it strange.”

She had a point, though I hated to admit it. People were surprised, sure, but nobody seemed to be filled with the same sense of the impossible as me. Nobody else acted like there was something wrong with the world.

“I don’t understand why everyone else just rolls with it,” I said. “It just seems so obviously… Well, whatever.”

“This is what I’m talking about,” Sadie complained. “You can’t take anything seriously.”

“You think I’m not taking this all seriously? Sadie, half a year ago, I tried to kill myself. You think I’ve forgotten that?”

“You think I have?”

“I’m so terrified I’ll end up back in that place, Sadie. I feel like I can’t ever stop, because if I do, I’ll fall apart.”

“Charlie…”

“I’m not okay, Sadie. I’m not suddenly over every negative thought that’s been poisoning my brain. I just have enough distractions that I can push them away, at least for now.” I laughed darkly. “Besides, it’s a little hard to be suicidal when you can’t die.”

“That’s not funny,” Sadie scolded me.

“Who cares? My whole goddamned life is a joke, and it isn’t worth shit. Don’t you get it?”

“I think you’re actually losing your mind, Charlie. You need help.”

“And who’s gonna help me, Sadie?” I asked, suddenly annoyed. “You think this is the kind of shit a psychiatrist is equipped to handle?”

“Yes!” she cried.

“Well, thanks for your professional opinion,” I snipped. “And thanks for the heart-to-heart. Really.”

“Charlie, I…”

“Let me put things this way,” I said, trying to control my temper. “If I’m right, and there’s something wrong with the world, I’m doing the only thing it’s possible for me to do.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Then I’m already doing what I’m supposed to be doing,” I said with a sigh. “And I don’t know which of those options is worse.”

Next Week: You Think I Don’t Know What You’re Up To?

Chapter 36 – I’m Going To Break You

Published by Charlie Farrow on July 10, 2017

One Month Before Impact Day

“You’re being frustratingly vague with some very key details,” he said, clearly running low on patience.

“The pieces are all there,” I told him smugly. “You could figure it out if you were clever enough.”

“Don’t push me, girl.”

“Do you not understand how a good story works? I’m trying to make this interesting for you, y’know. Weave a narrative, establish compelling characters, spice it up with a little mystery—”

He slammed his fist on the table, startling me. He was starting to look a little unhinged, and it worried me a little. What was getting to him so much?

“I don’t want a story,” he practically snarled. “I want answers. I want to know what you are, and why you tried to destroy me. I want to know how to find your friends, so I can shut them down. I want to know who and what Wendy is.”

I leaned back in the uncomfortable metal chair, forcing myself to breathe slowly.

“Fine,” I said. “I can’t tell you what I am, because I don’t know. I tried to destroy you because you’re poisoning my city, and I have a sense of justice. You don’t need to find my friends, because sooner or later, they’ll find you. And Wendy, well…” Another deep breath. “I’m getting there, okay?”

“Your story doesn’t even make sense,” he said, calming down. “You said you got an anonymous email with video footage of her being a superhuman, confronted her, and she wouldn’t help you. How? Why?”

“It wasn’t anonymous,” I reminded him. “I just don’t know who Alice Mason is.”

“It sounds like a red herring to me,” he said. “Even you didn’t see any evidence of her superpowers. Someone could have sent you edited footage.”

“Ugh, what is the point of following a story if you’re going to pick apart every little detail?” I complained. “Just enjoy the ride and hope it gets to the point eventually.”

“What do you think this is?” he asked, glaring at me from across the table. “Story time with Charlotte Farrow? You think I’m here because I care about your story?”

“You’re telling me you’re not even a little interested?”

“I’m telling you I’ve wasted five months on you, and you’ve given me nothing useful. My patience has officially run out.”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll admit, I’ve been dragging things out longer than necessary. I really wasn’t expecting to be here this long.”

“You’re going to be here for the rest of your life, bitch.”

“Whoa, whoa, alright, alright. No need to get nasty.”

“I’m going to break you,” he said, his voice low. “I’m going to shatter your tiny world, scrape up the pieces, and shatter them again.”

“I guess it wouldn’t be a story about immortality without the obligatory endless torture.”

“Keep joking. See where it gets you.”

“You’re losing it,” I said, meeting his eye, daring him to challenge me. “You’re unravelling because it’s taken you five months and you still haven’t managed to figure out what’s really going on. You have no idea what my plan is, but you know I have one, and even if you won’t admit it, you’re scared. You’re scared because I’m not, because I’m exactly where I want to be, and you know that whatever comes next, I’m going to come out on top. And it’s all going to be worth it.”

“What could be worth this?” he asked, gesturing around him. “What could possibly be worth everything I’ve done to you? What are you hiding from me?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” I asked. “That’s why you keep coming back, why you keep listening to me talk about high school romance and tussles with street thugs.”

“I underestimated you,” he conceded, pressing his fists into his temples. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. I’ve been treating you like a scared teenage girl, feigning bravery, assuming you’d give up eventually.”

“I did tell you that’s not who I am.”

“No, you’re not,” he said. “You’re as cold and hard as any of us. You’re a soldier, a fighter, a survivor.”

“Yep.”

He grinned at me, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a chill run down my spine.

“I think it’s time I stopped taking it easy on you,” he said.

Next Week: I’m Not Okay

Chapter 35 – Everything’s Gonna Work Out Just Fine

Published by Charlie Farrow on July 3, 2017

Seven Months Before Impact Day

“You know, I’m happy to have some alone time with you, but this isn’t really how I imagined spending it,” I said, glancing nervously at the array of tools Rachel had assembled.

“I dunno, I’m kind of looking forward to it,” she said, grinning.

“What if something actually works?” I asked, realising I hadn’t even considered the concept of my own mortality for months. “What if you actually manage to kill me?”

“Charlie,” she said, holding my hand and staring into my eyes. “I absolutely guarantee nothing I do will kill you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I dunno,” she said, grinning. “But I am.”

For some reason, that was enough for me. If Rachel was sure about something, that basically made it a fact.

“Alright,” I said, sighing. “Let’s find out just how much I can survive.”

For two days, Rachel set about testing the limits of my immortality. She cut me open, shot me, electrocuted me, crushed me, blew me up…

Every second of it was excruciating. No matter how many times I died, it never got any less painful. My body healed, but the pain stuck with me.

Incredibly, it seemed like not even complete obliteration kept me out. There was always something left, always enough for the rest of me to piece itself together from. Rachel noted everything down, keeping detailed logs, all while piecing together a mental picture that seemed unfathomable even to me.

“So, doc, what’s the diagnosis?” I joked, stretching out after being blown up from the inside. Rachel raised her eyebrows.

“You really wanna know?”

“Wait, you actually have an answer?”

“Kind of,” she said. “Imagine it like this. For most people, the body is like a… a container, for the soul. You break the container too much, the soul escapes, and the person is dead. After that, I have no idea what happens.”

“So we’re just like, straight-up confirming that people have souls, then?”

“Yep. Every last one of us.”

“Even me?”

“Even you,” she said. “Only with you, it’s kind of the other way around.”

“My soul contains my body?”

“No, but your body isn’t there to contain it. Your soul is like… a permanent fixture, y’know. Even without a container, it’s not going anywhere. For whatever reason, it likes where it is. But it also likes having a meatsack, because it needs that to interact with the world. Otherwise, you’d be like Sadie.”

“Okay…”

“Nothing in this world can touch your soul,” Rachel continued. “And it seems to have access to a limitless supply of energy, so it just keeps putting your body back together whenever it gets damaged. And that’s why no amount of damage will ever be able to kill you.”

“And what makes my soul so special?”

“Haven’t the foggiest,” she said cheerfully. “But there’ll be plenty of time to figure that out later. What’s important is that I have what I need. The plan’s gonna work.”

“But what if—”

“Trust me,” she said, kissing me. “Everything’s gonna work out just fine.”

“I do trust you,” I told her. “I just hate not being involved.”

We returned to the apartment Sunday evening, finding Aidan and Liz sitting at the table, playing chess, of all things.

“How was your romantic getaway?” Aidan asked, smirking. Did he suspect anything? Surely not.

“None of your business,” I said, rolling my eyes. Liz looked away. “Chess? Really?”

“It’s fun,” Aidan said defensively.

“It’s clichéd,” I retorted.

“Is everything ready?” Rachel asked, cutting through the awkwardness.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Liz asked. The tension between her and Rachel was… difficult.

“Just answer the question,” Rachel snapped.

“We’re all good,” Aidan said. “I’ve got eyes on the target as we speak, every movement planned, and every possibility covered.”

“Wait, since when do you have ‘eyes’ to put on targets?” I asked, pretending to know less than I really did.

“I hired some help,” Aidan said casually. “Anonymously, don’t worry. When you know how to play the game, people are just like chess pieces.”

“And you know how to play the game?”

“I’m a fast learner,” he said. “Your girlfriend helped, anyway.”

I raised an eyebrow at Rachel, as if she hadn’t already filled me in on all of it.

“I wrote some software,” she said, shaking her head as if it was nothing. “Just some handy tools for things like hacking, staying anonymous and keeping contacts… organised.”

“I didn’t even know you could program,” I lied.

“Neither did I,” she said. “Turns out it’s not so different to building things. You just have to know how all the pieces work.”

“What would we do without you?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she teased.

“We’d manage,” Liz said irritably.

Aidan and I exchanged uncomfortable glances. “We should probably get home,” he said. “Dad’s gonna start worrying.”

“I should get home too,” Liz said.

“Works for me,” Rachel said. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things. I have more ideas I wanna work on, anyway.”

We said our goodbyes, and Aidan and I once again took the bus home together. In what was starting to become tradition, he waited until we were alone to talk.

“Did something happen with you and Liz?” he asked.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“I didn’t want to pry,” he said.

“I probably shouldn’t talk about it,” I told him.

“Is it that bad?”

“No, it’s just…” I sighed. “What’s going on with you two?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I…” He bit his lip, and looked out the window, away from me. “I don’t know. Even after all these years, she’s impossible to read.”

“But you like her, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say that. Not that I don’t like her, but, like, how can you like someone when you’re not even sure if they like you?”

“Do you want her to like you?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Well, then.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not sure you’re her type,” I said carefully.

“I’m not anyone’s type,” he replied despondently.

“Since when?”

“Since always?”

“Dude, I just mean, I think she’s gay,” I said.

“Oh,” he said, before the other piece fell into place. “Oh. So that’s what—”

“You need some straight girls in your life,” I said.

“I’m beginning to doubt there are any in this damn city,” he said, and we both laughed.

Next Week: I’m Going To Break You

Chapter 34 – Collateral Damage

Published by Charlie Farrow on June 26, 2017

Seven Months Before Impact Day

“So,” Aidan said, acting casual. “Did you catch whatever that thing was in Fed Square today?”

“I was there,” Mark said. “It was quite the spectacle.”

“What even happened?” I asked, wondering how much Mark suspected. There was a good chance he knew about my immortality, possibly had before I ever did. If that was true…

“A lot of unnecessary drama,” Mark said disdainfully. “Some fool just painted a target on their back, and every gun in the city is going to be pointed at it.”

“Isn’t that a good thing for you?” I asked. “This could keep you in work for, well, however long it lasts. And then some. Everyone loves a retrospective thinkpiece.”

“That’s certainly an optimistic perspective,” he said carefully. “Personally, I’m a little more preoccupied with the more direct consequences of the stunt.”

“Consequences?”

“Some of the most powerful criminal organisations in the city, possibly the world, have just been publicly challenged,” he said. “By someone claiming altruistic intent, no less. An anonymous hero, with no obvious vulnerabilities. Now, how would you respond to that?”

My gut twisted and my heart sank as I processed immediately what he was suggesting. Aidan looked at me, a casual glance that belied the same grim realisation.

“Collateral damage,” I said. “They’re gonna go after civilians.”

“I certainly would,” Mark agreed. “Punish the altruist, reinforce their power, reassure the less confident among their own numbers.”

“That’s a scary thought,” I said weakly.

“It’s a scary world,” he replied wearily.

“I wonder if they think it’s worth it,” Aidan said. “The vigilante, I mean.”

“Oh, almost certainly,” Mark said. “They’d have to convince themselves it’s worth it. That they’re fighting some kind of noble war, and the end justifies the means. They’ll feel guilty about the consequences, but the cost isn’t theirs to pay, not really, so they’ll push through. Eventually, they’ll fall prey to the sunk-cost fallacy, and every casualty will reinforce the need to continue, so the lives already lost won’t be in vain. Both sides will push harder and harder, escalating until one side loses or the city is consumed.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. Mark didn’t make eye contact with me once, but I knew he was speaking to me. Somehow, he knew, and he’d seen right through me.

Was that just paranoia? Would he have said any different if he didn’t suspect me? Probably not. Maybe he had no idea at all.

“Sounds like you’ve got your first article already written,” I said with forced joviality.

“I suppose so,” he said. “And write I must. When words are all you have, all you can do is share them with the world, and hope that they resonate. In a world such as this, what else could I contribute?” With that, he pushed out his chair, and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”

Aidan and I exchanged worried glances.

“Do you think he knows?” Aidan asked.

“I can never tell, with him.”

“He was right though, you know.”

“Maybe,” I said. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t do nothing, and I can’t allow their poison to go unchecked.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe they’re not the problem?” Aidan asked. “That it’s the system that’s failing us, and they’re just a symptom?”

“Maybe,” I confessed. “But I don’t know how to fix the system. All I know how to do is fight the disease.”

“Right,” he said solemnly. “Well, I’m going to bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Charlie.”

“Sure,” I said, feeling a little hollow.

Two Months Before Impact Day

“Ahh, yes, your big public entrance,” he said, sneering at me. “If we’d known then that you were just a teenage girl and a few friends…”

“You wouldn’t have taken me seriously, and it would have bitten you in the arse,” I said. “Oh wait, that’s exactly what happened.”

“I don’t think you caused quite the amount of damage you think you did,” he scoffed. “And look at you know. You’re in here, alone, and we’re still going strong.”

“How foolish of me,” I said dryly. “Guess you’re right. You’ve won, I lost, end of story.”

“Do you want another month in concrete?”

“This time, I’m calling your bluff,” I said. “I know you’re running out of time.”

“What makes you think there’s a time limit?” he demanded.

“Because my friends are still out there, and they’re a lot more dangerous than I am,” I told him.

“You’re the only immortal,” he pointed out. “Them, we can kill.”

“And yet you haven’t. And you won’t, because they’re not just a few teenage brats. And I know for a fact they’re still causing you one headache after another.”

“They’re a manageable concern,” he insisted.

“You still don’t get it, do you?” I asked. “Liz and Aidan are tools, very dangerous tools. There’s no secret Aidan can’t uncover, and no back safe from Liz’s knife, and they’re not the ones you need to be worried about.

“You haven’t been listening. Rachel will stop at nothing to get me back, and she’s not just clever. She’s a tinker. Do you understand what that means?”

“Your girlfriend is a nerd,” he said dismissively.

“My girlfriend is supernatural,” I said. “Given enough time, she can build anything, and so far, she’s had four months. What do you think she’s got waiting for you?”

“Bullshit,” he snapped. “You really want me to believe there’s another supernatural human out there, that you just magically found each other, and fell in love?”

“Don’t forget Wendy,” I said.

“Right, your café” owner. We looked into her. Nothing came of it.”

“She scared your men off, huh?”

“I think you’re just full of shit,” he said.

“Well, you’ve got one thing right,” I confessed.

“Oh?”

“The idea that the only supernatural people in the world all live in the same city, all know each other, purely by coincidence, is bullshit. So what do you think that means?” I asked.

“That you’re a liar.”

“Dude, I am a literal immortal. I actively defy understanding or explanation. Do you really want to hang your hat on that being the only one that exists? That I’m lying about everything except that?”

“What’s your explanation, then?”

“You’ve only just started to scratch the surface of what I really am,” I told him. “And I promise, you’ll be dead before you’ve figured me out.”

“I thought you were against murder,” he said.

“Oh, I am,” I said. “Ethically. I genuinely believe there isn’t a person alive that deserves death, no matter their choices.”

“Then I’m finding it difficult to understand why I should take your threat seriously,” he said.

“Because you’ve spent four months torturing me,” I said. “Everyone has their breaking point. You found mine when you left me trapped in a block of concrete for a month.”

“Ah, so I am getting through to you,” he said.

“Rachel, I really need you to hurry up,” I muttered.

Next Week: Everything’s Gonna Work Out Just Fine