It was a boxy, bright orange hunk of metal. But that battered 1985, four wheel drive Chevy pickup in its hideously orange fleetside glory was oh so much more for the 45 year old man stood watching it go into the scrap yard.

He was lean and with a broad athletic frame his once solid black hair was now peppered with some gray. For the middle-aged Ronald Hershcorn that old pick up was trove of memories.

His day had bought brand new off a lot in Little Rock Arkansas. Ronald was five years old-- having been conceived in the back of a Volkswagen Beetle in 1980. There was many days fishing trips, vacations and other major life events in that truck including hard lessons. Ron found himself the hurricane of the teen years and was tempestuous and bumbfuzzled. He wasn't an adult neither was he a child. While on the way to a sporting goods store one day his father gave him the "talk."

Trying hard to be "cool" he'd completely marred the reputation of a cheer leader his so called friends had mocked him for liking. He fabricated an account of an explicit romantic rendezvous where her "cherry had been popped."

It spread like a California wildfire through out the high school.

Ronald's dad had caught wind of the situation and one day while fixing up the truck he sat his son on the tailgate and they had very long discussion.

Ronald still remembered that day very well. It was like acid reflux to his brain. Why did he do something so stupid to a person he had deep feelings for. He'd made it right with her but she never spoke to him again he didn't blame her.

Eleven years after it rolled of the lot the pickup became his. He was Sixteen and still mixed up and dumb. He didn't drink and drive but he did go to fast one night. It cost him a new headlight and a month without his wheels.

The truck went with him to college. He thought it be cool to paint orange because that was one of the school colors. It had been that hue ever since. Many nights were spent with his buddies in the back of that truck weather it was going to the burger place for quick refuse during finals or waiting for a movie to start or just talking.

Some nights were spent in solitude washing away the pains of life with the sounds of Skid Row or Metallica. "I'm 18" by Alice Cooper also resonated with him strongly.

While in college he met his wife and they were married in fall of 2001. He scraped up some money and bought a camper for the truck bed. The wedding night was spent there as he and his wife stopped on a deserted road to consumate their union. He was 21 she was 25. It was the night of September 10th 2001 and they were headed to New York City for the honeymoon. They canceled those plans the next day.

Soon a new life entered the world and Ronald spent time in that truck with his own son trying to pass on life lessons.

Well Ronald had been on his own for ten years. The wife divorced him in 2015. Times were hard and his son was in college learning who knows what now days! So the truck was gone now the cost of maintenance on such an old heap having become impractical. That pick up had been if three states seen 6 big moves and the sundering of a stable family. So the truck was gone now but the memories remained.

He slumbered and as he did he transported into the bowels of his sbconconcious or perhaps somewhere else entirely. He was in a woodland shrouded in a dense fog. At his feet was a rapidly moving creak whose waters rushed like New York traffic.

On the other side of the creek was was figure that sent shivers through him. The it was human...almost. the being had no face or even the traces of a face. It beckoned him or was it taunting him?

He waded in to the creek with a splash. The figure with no Visage also made no sound except its own splashing foot-falls through the water. He chased this mysterious being into a cave and with a resounding splash tackled him down into the water!

They struggled but He pooled the Faceless One up out the water and stood astonished, for the being now had a face. He had been the faceless man.

In a ramshackle ale house a group of men talked while the wind moaned like a banshee around the corners of the edifice. One the men piped up,"aye what we need is a good spook-tale to top off our beers."

"I'll give you one," said a lone man at another table. His countenance was grim and he trank deeply of his alcohol before he told his tale.

Four children shambled morosely in the darkness. All around them was destruction & bedlam. Behind them was a plethora of scenes from their blackest of nightmares.

Their faces were covered in soot, dirt, and blisters from fire. One of the kids stared at the road ahead with eyes the width of dinner plates, for the poor tyke was in shock after witnessing his mother sliced in twain by a great axe, her eyes staring in a now sightless contortion of blood spattered terror and her guts heaped on the floor between her upper and lower and lower halves.

The air was thick with the scent of rancid guts, shed blood and the burning village. The marauders had done their work well!

The quartet didn't know where'd they go but it had to be somewhere. They'd put a mile behind them and dared not look at the field to their right where the dead rested in the crimson stained ground.

Suddenly they descried a troop of men lumbering in their directions. The armor clad raiders had not noticed the juveniles yet & they scurried into a bush and hid there shuddering in terror.

The soldiers screamed in fury and the sounds of furious skirmish broke the deathly silence of the post battle night. Then all was quiet again. The kids poked their heads out the bush and saw a black armored figure kneeling over the slain soldiers on the road. He had a large horned helmet and a beard that extended his breast plate. In his hand he held an ancient looking blade that appeared to be made of bone instead of wood and metal.

The figure flayed open the back of one the soldiers with a sickening sound of rending flesh. He then pulled out a portion of the dead man's spine.

This was the bone taker. Nobody knew who...or what he was. Speculation and stories circulated in grim whispers from around campfires and the deepest shadows of grungy taverns. Some thought he was a mad man. Others thought he was demon made flesh. The particularly superstitious thought he was some dread god's avatar.

The displaced urchins waited for an eternity in Hell as the bone taker finished his unholy work and placed the last of his trophies in a sack with a grisly rattle. Then he left with a clank of armor and bones.

The children were overcome with a grim determination to solve the mystery of the bone taker. For hours under the moonlight they followed him in silence. Once a twig snapped beneath their feet. The bone taker halted and looked around. Then thankfully resumed his course.

At last the grim figure descended into a tunnel and the kids followed. They entered into a volcanic hellscape. The heat was oppressive and the air smokey. Sure they'd acted foolishly and were now in the bowls of Hades itself. They hid behind a large rock and observed the bonetaker as he walked along a protruding slab of igneous rock surrounded by a lava flow and poured his trophies onto a massive pile of ancient skeletal remains.

The Friends did not know one of them had been trying to stifle a cough. No more could he hold back and it echoed through the abyss. The armored fiend turned and spotted them. His eyes flashed like fire and his hand tightened around the macabre instrument of his butchery. He picked up his sack and and lumbered toward them.....

"Well come on with it! What happened to those kids!" one of the drunkards demanded of this story teller.

"People say different things. Some say none of them were ever seen again. That's not true though. Only one did escape from that demon pit and I am he.

The alarm woke us up with its abhorrent cacophony. Nellie grumbled sleepily and wiggled around, turning over and I jumped out of bed and quickly dressed. I left my lover still clad in nothing but my bedsheets.

I still had time before I went to work so grabbing a speedy breakfast I plopped onto my couch and began to think. Long ago on a planet called Earth I fell in love with the most beautiful woman ever fashioned. We were going to have an extravagant wedding and maybe some buns in the oven.

Neither of us had sex with the other. We were both waiting for the wedding night. But alas life didn't go that way. A war came, a very stupid war that was fought for a very stupid reason. Of course you know the rest.

Last night I copulated with a woman I'd fallen in love with on a place far from Earth. I had just consummated my affections for her just as I was going to have to head back to Earth. “Stupid, MacGaven! Now you're in it for the long haul.” I scolded myself.

The return to Earth would also mean the blowing of my cover unless they did some fudging like a bogus early release or commuted sentence. At least I had the option to return no matter how long it took.

Nellie had put on a lacey slip that she had packed. It looked good on her. Anything looked good on her. She walked over to me. I stood up and gave her a quick kiss. “I've got to go, Baby.”

“I know,” She said softly, “Can I come back tonight or should we wait for the weekend?”

“Come back tonight if you want,” I replied. “I'd like to rest my eyes on something besides computer parts.”

That night finally rolled around after much anticipation. While waiting for Nellie I tried several times to contact Delaney to let him know I would soon be out of his hair.

Zilch. He wasn't answering. Was he really that ticked off? I finally gave up. I wasn't about to kill my mood. I occupied myself with a thick,non-fiction hardback I purchased on my way home until the buzzer of my door announced Nellie's arrival.

She was wearing a white lace top that blurred the line dress and lingerie. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me for an eternity. I stared into her eyes and found worry. “Nellie, what's wrong?”

“I think someone was following me.”

“You're safe here.”

“I know.”

She made our evening meal and it was dined upon with great vigor. Afterwards we were simply enjoying each other's company. I could tell we'd be spending another night in bed together. No we couldn't. I couldn't. Was that the buzzer of my door?

Nellie separated her lips from mine and returned the straps of her dress to the tops of her shoulders. She uttered something I will not repeat. I answered the door and was not expecting to find Hardcase Delaney pointing a gun in my face while a small gaggle of soldiers stood behind him. He ordered them to wait outside and he shoved me inside as the door closed behind him.

He glared daggers at Nellie. “You little slut,” he growled at her. “I was hoping I was wrong but no you left me for Him!”

She was furious now. I was in shock. She spoke, “What of it? Why does it matter if I'm with him or some rando off of the street?

“Stupid whore! He's an investigator with the space force. He was probably banging you just to get information he could use to shut me down!”

She stared at me bemused and asked “You lied to me?”

“Did I? If a man pretends to be a conman and he's not does that not in fact make him a conman?

“He's right only up to a point. I was sent here to sniff out corruption. I did and the son of a gun is back on Earth. I have a contact I reported to. Not once did I mention the Warden here letting a cathouse operate untouched.

“I figured he had a good reason. I didn't know it was because he was dating you at the time.”

I turned to Delaney, “I promise you, Delaney she never mentioned it.”

“Enough of the bull crap!” He still had his piece aimed at me. This was a situation that would not be defused and was fixing to explode. “I'm sending you away, MacGaven.”

“Once you do, who's going to help you catch that serial killer of yours?”

“I don't know and I don't care.”

“Come on, Delaney. Put down your gun and let's talk about this. The boys back home are shipping me back Earthside next month.”

“No, Screw that! I'm arresting you, Tom MacGaven! It is the only option left to me since that pipe up your head didn't deter you!”

So that was him or a hired thug.

“On what charge?”

“Murder.”

It happened so fast it was surreal. He turned away from me and I heard five shots that made my ears ring. I looked over and saw Nellie's white dress had turned dark crimson. Her eyes showed no signs of life except a surprised look frozen on her face. At least she died instantly.

Delaney turned his attention back to me. His eyes blazed with hate, jealousy, and desperation. His desire to not lose his home,crappy though it was, had robbed him of logic and reason.

I slipped my hand into my jacket and pulled out my own pistol and fired once. I tagged his shoulder and he flinched and swore. He traded hands with his pistol. “Thanks. Now I can use lethal force.”

I sighed. I was about to have to put him down like a rabid dog. He fired three shots in my direction. One grazed my left arm, another ripped through my right pectoral. The last one missed me. New plan. I did a face dive out of my apartment's sole window.

The move was unexpected and took Delany and his men by surprise. I began to make my getaway when I heard the Warden shouting to his men that they were authorized to use lethal force to take me down. I heard the shots and felt a bullet go through my leg.

They gave chase and at last they nearly had me cornered when a gigantic form lumbered out of the darkness and began coming toward them. Delaney knew what he was looking at and was a little too enthusiastic. “Sweet Mother Mary! Tonight I take care of two problems at once!

“Boys, our fugitive can wait, let's take out this other murdering trash first!”

The shadow killer was then illuminated in the light of Delaney's gunfire. The hulking figure bellowed and snatched up the Warden like he was a rag doll. I could hear the sickening sound of bones fragmenting as the killer squeezed Hardcase to death. “Light– urk-him u…”

Those gas mask wearing troopers did as they were bid and opened fire on the menace that dished out death for two years. I finally got a good look at him. I was stunned. It was Johnston! Somehow the cult had transformed their deceased founder into a titanic murder machine.

The abomination dropped the Warden. It was too late for him. Justice had been dealt in a macabre fashion. He lay broken. Blood seeped from his eyes,ears, and mouth. Two of the guards grabbed me and drug me forward. “Come on, fugitive. That thing left a trail of some kind. We're hunting it down & you're coming with us!”

I dropped the truth bomb about who I was and what I was doing here. They didn't believe me at first but they made a call to a member of the warden's inner circle. I don't know what was said but I could read the poor leader’s expression beneath his gas mask. “He's telling the truth, boys.”

“I'm not sure why the Warden had us huntin’ you down but I'm plumb sorry about it. Let's get you patched up!”

“No,” I said. “This can't wait, I know where the monster's lair is.”

We followed the glowing ooze to a dumpster in the alley of the cult’s temple. On a hunch I pushed on the dumpster which caused my bullet wounds to bleed out faster. There was a metallic sound and the dumpster slid aside along with a section of the wall. A hidden passage. Cliché but effective.

The green blood trail led inside and we followed it to a laboratory that would have made Victor Frankenstein orgasmic. Several cultists were there in lab coats and robes tending to the wounds of their false idol including the crazy old man. He looked at me. “Defilers! Infidels! Behold he whom you have wronged. Father Abraham’s avatar.”

The colossus that in life had been a scientist turned cult leader rose from his operating table. The old man continued his mad spewing of vile doctrine. “He's been seeking out a more holy vessel just as he foretold but none have been worthy so he destroys their shell to liberate their souls!”

Johnston approached the boisterous zealot. “No!” he cried out. I'm unworthy! I am not worthy!” so the old coot died a totally devout human pretzel.

The soldiers had seen enough. We all opened fire on the abomination. It flailed its arms and I was sent crashing into a stack of wooden crates with enough force to to splinter them. I spit out thick gobs of blood. I didn't need a medical professional to tell me I was busted up internally.

The resurrected Johnston wasn't fairing so well either he was pouring green blood from many bullet wounds but the mad science that birthed him had nearly made him a juggernaut. The cultists were either dead or had retreated. Most of the soldiers had gone out fighting. I ordered the remaining ones to retreat and call reinforcements. The whole cult was going down tonight. That left me alone with Jumbo.

He saw me and moved to finish me off. I struggled to raise my gun and I fired six shots into the one spot on his mammoth body the soldiers had not yet hit, his head.

Johnston fell to the concrete floor and I knew that he'd been returned at last to the grave. I picked myself up and limped out of the unholy place. I didn't have time to wait for the ultimate take down though after everything that had happened I would have loved to.

One of the guardsmen asked me,”Where are you going, Sir?”

“To a doctor, Soldier.”

Broken and bleeding I merged with the late night crowd. Maybe I'll make it to Dr. Magnus or maybe this place will live up to its name, Grifter's End.

The subsequent week marked the monthly return of our supply ship and with it my time to report in. My outside man was less than pleased about Delaney becoming uncooperative with the very investigation he'd assigned to me. I was also informed that next month would be the end of my undercover work here. So now the clock was ticking even faster.

I spent the rest of the day in my apartment unpacking supplies. I had to solve this thing but the trail had gone cold. I knew what I knew; the cult of Abe Lincoln was up their necks in this caper.

Then there was Nellie. I shouldn't have fallen in love with her but I did. Now all that was about to blow up. Sure I could return and settle down in Grifter's End but it'd take months and Nellie would probably shun me like a leper. “Bad move, MacGaven. You've gotten in too deep!” That's what I told myself.

Another night. My apartment. Another romantic rendezvous. I had the lights off except for the strip beneath the sofa. The woman and I were bathed in the blue aura of romance and had just finished a light meal.

I'd explained to her that I had a bad memory connected to spaghetti. She found it strange (rightfully so) but satisfactory. Now we were engaged in a serious conversation that dug a pit in my stomach.

“Tom,” she began, “I know what you were on Earth so please answer me a question, is this real, this fire of passion that's engulfing us?”

Eloquent. “I know it's real for me, Nellie but what about you? How do I know I'm actually speaking to you & not one of your androids?”

She enveloped me in an embrace and gave me a prolonged and sensual kiss then she escorted me into my private chamber and shoved me down onto the bed. Her dress fell to the floor and she spent the rest of our time together proving to me that she was beyond the shadow of a doubt not an android.

The satisfaction provided by the chipped beef and toast did not last and neither of us bought anything from the theater except the price of admission. So when we got back to her restaurant she prepared dinner. We were alone; it was just us– at least in the restaurant, for I knew her ladies of the evening were in the other half of the building– and nothing else seemed very important.

I could hear the woman clambering around in the kitchen as she prepared something for us. From the sound things it was something more than a simple night time snack.

I sat at the table with my thoughts as company, trying to formulate my next move. Right now I didn't have one and that would have to be OK for now.

Nellie returned with some vintage 2006 wine with a fancy name I couldn't pronounce. As a restaurateur that was her expertise not mine. She poured us a little, enough to sip and enjoy but not enough to plaster us and we didn't say much, choosing instead to quietly enjoy whatever was happening between us.

The moment was soon ruined. Poor Nellie went to the kitchen and returned with our late night entrée. It was spaghetti…. with meat sauce. She sat the plate down and I froze as a slew of blood soaked, traumatic recollections danced in my head.

Now I was no longer in the restaurant. I was in the living room of my house holding my dead girlfriend in my arms as her gray matter….. I bolted out of my chair trying not to heave. “I'm sorry Nellie I've got to go!”

“Tom, what's going on? TOM!” she called out behind me.

Nothing will kill romance and good food faster than PTSD and apparently I had plenty to go around.

In between the blood soaked flashbacks and somersaults performed by my stomach was that feeling of being watched yet again. I steadied myself against a brick wall, breathed deeply and looked around. I could not make out anything and I knew I'd never see my observer just feel their eyes on me.

I made it back to the apartment and made a bee line for my bathroom where I proceeded to send all those unpleasant memories raining down into the toilet with much force. I scoured the medicine cabinet and was pleased that the stock of medicines included some anti-nausea pills.

Finally with a cold rag pressed against my forehead I fell asleep and woke up Sunday morning feeling refreshed.

Setting up a meeting with Hardcase Delaney on the sly required some logistical acrobatics but I was once again in his cushy office. This time it was turn to pace the floor like a man whose wife is having a baby. “Did you see the latest crime scene?” I asked him.

“Yeah,” he said, glancing over a batch of hi-res glossy photos spread on his desk like poker cards. “They were handed over to me thirty minutes ago.”

“What do you notice about this scene compared to the others?”

“I noticed the poor sap had his neck screwed around instead of his whole body.”

I nodded, “Hmm mmm what else?”

“A box cutter.”

“Yep. You see that green goop around it?”

“Yeah, my lab boys and girls are working on analyzing it.”

I faced him now and dropped my bombshell. “No need to trouble them. I already know what it is.”

He leaned back in his chair and cocked his head. “Oh you do, do you? Well what is it?”

“Warden, have you ever seen that old movie Predator?”

His entire mood changed. He stood erect and pointed at me like I was Scrooge in a cemetery. “MacGaven You interrupted my weekend for this affair so you better have something better for me than muscle men and space aliens!”

“Allright if you want something better I'll give it to you. I will give you the scenario the way I believe it played out.”

Hardcase Delaney returned to his chair but the thunder cloud still hovered over his countenance. “I'm listening.”

“The victim was leaving his store for the night, most likely trying to beat the curfew. He had no reason to suspect he'd die last night because none of us have a reason to suspect we'd die on any given night.

“The Shadow Killer struck suddenly as they always do but this time the victim fought back before he was murdered. He used a box cutter he most likely kept in his pocket for self defense since citizens aren't allowed weapons & in doing so left us a clue about the killer namely that the killer bleeds some form of green blood like the Predator.”

I paused for both a breath and for emphasis. “Do you know what that tells me, Warden?”

“No, why don't you clue me in?”

“Our perp isn't entirely human! I have information from a medical professional who will remain anonymous that one year before these killings began those Abe Lincoln worshiping nutballs asked him for med supplies under the table.

“He refused but I believe that they got what they needed eventually and conducted a twisted experiment on someone thus birthing our serial killer.”

Hardcase folded his arms and gave the look a farther reserves for catching his son watching a porno.

“Seriously, MacGaven? The only evidence you've brought me is that you've been in a circle jerk with Fox Maulder! I told you before to leave the cultists alone, don't poke the hornet nest!”

I leaned over the warden's desk, it was my turn to be angry! “Delaney I don't know why you're being a stubborn ox about this but let me tell you something: I'm an investigator with a federal body therefore I technically outrank you here.

“I have no idea why you've become hostile toward me all of a sudden but I don't give a heck how many hornets are in that nest. if they're guilty I will bring the whole thing down off the branch it's hanging from because that's the job you dropped I'm my lap and this is where the evidence points!”

“You feds all have to stick your noses where they don't belong and make life more miserable than it already is! I asked to solve a series of murders.”

“Blast it Delaney, that's what I'm doing!”

“No! You're violating the civil rights of a religious group because they're beliefs are strange to you.”

The blood in my veins was heated, my muscles tense with frustration. “I couldn't care less if they worshipped Cthulhu. I'm targeting them because they're guilty as sin of something. Warden Delaney, don't stand in my way of doing the very job you asked me to do.”

I walked away before I punched the man. He yelled behind me, ’If you're wrong,MacGaven we are both in deep horse pucky! They could sue us. It could cost me my position. What would happen to this Colony? “

“Warden, if we don't stop this just because we don't want ruffle some feathers you won't have a Colony!”

I left him to stew over that. It was the weekend and I'd wasted too much time butting heads with Hardcase Delaney. Man, did he ever live up to his name. Of course a boogeyman bleeding out green ooze would be hard for anybody to accept but after facing killer AI drones during the war I could believe anything.

No, what bothered me was that the Warden had become uncooperative out of fear for his job. Didn't he realize that his refusal to cooperate could cost him just as much as a “civil rights” lawsuit?

I was so ticked off that I began to walk unconsciously, not really paying attention to where I was going. My footfalls carried me to Nellie's restaurant. I took my usual seat and browsed the menu. I settled on something that matched my mood, chipped beef on toast.

The ravishing blond flitted over to the table like a fairy queen. She wore a revealing red dress that almost blended into the table cloth accepted for exposed patches of smooth, feminine flesh. “You look troubled, Tom. What's going on?”

Crap. How was I supposed to answer that without blowing my cover? Ever in the role of a con artist I told her a half truth. “Oh, I'm not seeing eye to eye with someone I know here.”

She didn't press the issue and I was not going to volunteer any more information. She replied, “Well, that sucks.”

I took a sip of ice water and sat the glass back down with an emphatic thunk onto the table. I gazed at her for a long moment wanting to caress the parts of her not covered by her dress. “Nellie, about what happened last night…”

“The kiss?”

“Yes, that's the one!”

“What about it, Mr.MacGaven?”

“I thought I couldn't afford you.”

She leaned in and the fragrance of her perfume climbed into my nostrils. “You didn't have to, Darling. You earned me instead.”

I didn't know just what to say so I said nothing. “Tell you what,” she purred. “Why don’t we go out tonight and get you unwound.”

“Sure.”

That's what we did. We went to the cineplex. During the walk I felt like eyes, human eyes were boring into the back of our skull. I kept looking over my shoulder but never caught sight of anybody. The woman noticed. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I suppose it is.”

Even as we took in the 2036 remake of the Maltese Falcon, The one with a fifty year old Scarlett Johansson playing Spade, I still felt like we were specimens under a microscope. Were we being watched or was I being paranoid?

I liked Scarlett's acting but I would have rather watched the original film from The 1940's. I made it through the remake because Nellie seemed to enjoy seeing the lead reimagined as Samantha “Sam” Spade. When the credits began rolling I escorted my date from the building.

There was someone watching us. In the dimness of the evening I couldn't make them out. I bolted across the road with angry drivers honking like agitated geese. The figure hauled butt as well and I lost them in an alley. Nellie's shoes behind me then, “Tom MacGaven what was that about?”

“I wish I knew.”

When my eyes popped open it was with a great effort. My skull was cussing me out and my nose was assailed by a sterile chemical aroma. I sat up and almost vomited but I kept my last meal where it belonged then took stock of my environment.

I was in a small room that looked like it belonged in a low budget horror movie, the kind that would become buried on streaming services when those still existed. It looked like a laboratory or the autopsy room of a morgue. In the corner was a bed and that's the one I was in. A pale blue illuminated the room giving a strange ambiance.

I thoroughly remembered the last thing that happened to me and wondered if I was to be butchered here. Oh crap! My coat was gone. Well looks I'd go down bare knuckle boxing my foe.

A black man walked in. He wore slacks, a lab coat, and a red and gray striped polo shirt. He looked like Steffan Urkle. I was going to take him down in a flying tackle but my body had other ideas as I lost balance and ended up on my butt.

“Easy there, Pal. You're safe here.” He assured me.

“Where is here exactly?”

“Hypocratic Hands walk-in clinic,” he answered proudly, “and to answer your next question I'm Dr. Gerald Magnus.”

“Ok, Doctor answer once more: How in the blazes did I get here?”

“A working girl found you out cold in some alley and brought you here.”

“One of Nellie's girls?”

“I wouldn't know. Now tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?”

Unless I was mistaken he held up one and that was my answer.”

“Okay, good.”

He finished his examination and concluded that I had a mild concussion and that no permanent damage had been done.

“So, Doctor, what's your story?

“I was a street doc.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. Now at least I can do something besides patch up gang bangers.”

He left a moment and returned with my coat draped over an arm. “Don't worry I won't ask about that toy you've got stashed away. Not my business.”

“Thanks!” I replied as he handed me my coat.

As I was leaving an inspiration struck me. “Dr. Magnus, have you had any dealings or experiences with the Abe Lincoln cult?”

“The Friends of the Emancipator of Souls? Yeah. Some of them came by about 3 years ago asking if I could give them some medical equipment on the sly. I told them to get wrecked.”

I departed the clinic and through the throbbing in my bludgeoned skull I tried to memorize the route as I made my way to an ice pack at my home.

So now I had a new friend and more evidence that the Lincoln cult was up to no good. Was it one of them that cracked me over the head? If they had needed med supplies why did they attempt to keep such a tight lid on it? Something was missing and that something was the key to unlock all the doors on this mystery, the crucial piece of the puzzle that would make the picture complete.

On Earth solving this mystery would have been much easier. Unfortunately I was not on Earth. I was on a prison planet with few resources and a communication gap with my colleagues that extended over light-years. It was only now that I appreciated why this case had lingered unsolved for the past two years.

My skull throbbed in defiance of the Ice pack I placed on my noggin. I wet a rag and went to bed early. Sometime in the night the dance party in my skull ceased though I feared the alarm would kick it off again. There's no need to go over the work day; it was the same as always. After it was over I went to Nellie's.

When I entered through the side door which had been hastily repaired I found her in a sundress pouring water over a vibrant burgundy colored plant the likes of which I'd never seen and it's difficult for me to describe. It looked like a daisy of sorts but the petals could have been from a poinsettia. “It's magnificent!”

Nellie looked up at me and replied, “It's also the last of its kind. There used to be legions of them outside the city.

“The atmosphere here was just right for sustaining them until we modified it to our personal needs. Then they went extinct except for this one. I'm taking care of it until it's time comes around.”

I leaned against the wall observing how the woman had done her best to salvage the wreckage of her living room.

“We move in and a beautiful otherworldly flower gets the shaft. Yet you think I'm too cynical about humans.” I said.

“You are. Anyway, what brings you here, Tom?”

“I was walking to a bar I frequent yesterday and someone cracked me with a metal pipe!”

A prostitute found me and dragged me to Dr. Magnus. I was just wondering if she was one of yours because I wanted to thank her.”

She left the room with the alien flower for a few seconds then returned saying, “Nope. There's other working girls in this colony besides mine. If one of my ladies had aided you she'd have told me so.”

“Ok.”

“I suppose you are leaving now?”

“We can sit and talk for a while if you want.”

“There is other business going on but it's nothing my girls can't handle.”

So we talked for many hours about this and that & the other. I learned about her life on Earth and it was a sordid tale involving predatory fathers and crappy foster homes and other factors that led her to Grifter's End. I gave the parts of my story that I could without blowing my cover. Perhaps I was becoming too good at playing the role of a confidence man.

Eventually I asked the question that had been foremost on my mind. “So why androids?”

She leaned back in the chair. “Years ago I had a client who was becoming more than a client. He'd had very bad upbringing and he'd come here of his own accord. His abusive childhood had affected him in ways that Sigmund Freud would have done back flips over.

“Whenever he came to me I catered to that fetish and it seemed in a weird way to calm him. Eventually we started to have genuine feelings for each other until one night when he snapped. For some reason my services that used to calm him set off something long repressed and he called me things even the dirtiest of my clients never did except it wasn't meant to be arousing.

“He pulled a knife and charged me. From that day forward none of my clients have met with me face to face and I charge enough to ensure they never do.”

“TMI in some spots but now it makes sense.”

I'd kept an eye on the clock and stood up to leave. She stood up too. We brought our faces together and time froze while we kissed–The madam of an interstellar brothel who'd picked herself up by the boot straps & me, the world weary investigator undercover as a reforming crook.

That kiss was intoxicating and made my head spin. I stumbled home as a man drunk on the sweet wine of love. I have some vague memory of flopping with great force onto my bed and then nothing whatsoever until the hellish cry of the alarm clock.

While I was passed out from an overcharge of sexual energy stores were closing and workers were coming off their night shifts and scurrying back to their homes. The guards kept up their vigil trying to catch curfew violators while the hookers hurried indoors with their latest clients. And somewhere a scream pierced the night as the Shadow Killer did their unholy work yet again.

How did I know this was what had unfolded beneath the black velvet curtain of night? Because once I realized it was the weekend I went for a stroll. I tried to concentrate on my investigation but Nellie kept intruding into my thoughts until I saw a crowd milling around a side street between two stores.

The area was corded off by police tape and a small group of soldiers were keeping the crowd at bay. I quietly joined them and studied what I could of the scene. I saw enough. This latest victim, a store owner by the looks of him, hadn't been turned into as much of a pretzel as some of the other victims but his neck was broken. Near his outstretched hand lay a box cutter surrounded by some sort of green liquid staining the concrete! Something clicked in my head. It was time to meet with Delaney again

The lady was sitting on the sidewalk in front of the apartment complex. Her eyes lit up like Roman candles when saw me walking towards her. She stood up hastily which caused the hem of her sundress to flap excitedly.

The guards patrolling the streets gave us laser eyes but said nothing as I invited her inside. Once we were inside I urged her to sit down. Her expression changed rapidly after she sensed that something was amiss. “What's going on, Tom? What happened?”

I unfolded the events leading up to our rendezvous. All color drained from her face and she sucked in a deep gust of air. Without a word she bolted to her feet and was out the door leaving me in the dust I tried to keep with her.

After what seemed like a lifetime of consoling her hookers she turned to the task of cleaning up the mess. Her space cat eyed me with its trinity of optics, regarding me with a scorn that seemed to be kin to that of an Earthly feline. I helped out where I could, then left before curfew.

During the following days things happened pretty quickly. Another ship from Earth arrived carrying a squad of military police! I witnessed the arrest of Preston. I stood across the street watching him being hauled away. He saw me watching and looked at me like an angry wasp thought he had no reason to connect me to his downfall.

I also received a visitor, it wasn't Nellie. It was a man in a dark blue suit and sporting a dour expression. He was all business and so was I. He handed me a manilla envelope. “Here is the information you requested, Mr. MacGaven. I must say it is quite unusual.”

“I know but I'm dealing with something unusual. There's something rotten in Grifter's End & I must root it out.”

Once I was back in solitude I opened the packet and began perusing through its contents. I'm sure my eyebrows spent a lot of time raised as I took in the I formation. Daniel Johnston had indeed been in the news. He was a scientist with radical ideas that would have made Victor Frankenstein jealous. His research and bizarre experiments were moth balled under a certain presidential administration leaving him in financial ruins. When the world did hear from him again it was a few years later.

Much of what I read was lining up with what the teenager had told me. He claimed in a personal blog online that he had received divine revelations about Abraham Lincoln being a manifestation of Christ and that he would return to liberate any who would accept this truth from the fleshly shackles that bound their soul to this superficial and shallow world.

It seemed crazy because it was. He'd managed to find a plethora of followers regardless. In a country still reeling from another pointless war his words struck a cord with certain people. The cult was doing everything but giving Scientology a run for its money until five years ago when Johnston was killed in a riot and the remnants of the cult apparently went to space to avoid “religious persecution.”

The records were indeed unusual. They also helped to confuse things as much as they shed light on them. The Reverend was dead yet a teenage member of his cult had mentioned him saying that he'd return as an avatar of Abraham Lincoln. Even with this many puzzle pieces I couldn't make out the picture being formed.

I attempted to contact the Warden but only static answered. I tried again an hour later but the same result. Obviously the man was busy. I decided to go eat supper at Nellie's restaurant. We wined and dined and I nearly kissed her but she stopped me and when I left it began to rain.

I do not know if it rained upon this planetoid before the terraforming process but it was certainly raining now and it became a priority to return to my confines ASAP! Nothing smells worse than wet leather except wet canines. In the still and quiet of my apartment I could hear the rain increase in intensity from a pleasant trickle into a pounding torrent. That made me drowsy and swept me off to sleep.

I slept until that blasted alarm woke me up. Well nothing to do now but go inspect circuit boards. It was foggy and humid from the rain and it was a long day that dragged by slowly like a zombie from the grave and it didn't get any better once I'd clocked out for the day.

My intention was to escape the humidity at Yancy’s but as I cut through an alley the hair on my neck raised and I heard shifty footsteps behind me. My right hand was inching its way closer to the gun hidden in my coat as I turned to look at my follower. All I saw was a ski mask sitting on top of broad shoulders before something hard and blunt whacked me upside my head causing my vision to become a planetarium and a fireworks display at the same time & after that a black void.