Member-only story
Cycle of Reach: February
Two of Four
Markie hated. He hated his stupid school and the losers with their dope and their attitudes. He hated his stupid fat loser Mom and was not going to quit dumping her beer down the sink no matter how mad she got. Most of all, though, Markie hated his old man. It was bad enough when he was here, but at least they had a man they knew around the place. Since he left there was no telling what that drunken bitch was going to bring into the apartment.
It’s not like it mattered when the old man had chased him off down at the shelter. Markie had more important things going on in his life than trying to make sure that fat, old fuck had food or anything. He left him that last time without one look back. There was that creepy, skinny guy who was always hanging around and Markie just gave him what he knew was his dangerous look and kept going. Directly ahead, in the direction he was moving, lay a siege engine of rotting factories and vast warehouses. He could feel a heaving power underfoot and took it for his own.
This had once been a fine suburb with lines of well-maintained brick houses and playgrounds and no sidewalks because no one walked. That had all begun to tank even before Markie’s old man was born. Being an older, inner ring suburb it was one of the first to go down as factories closed down and jobs got shipped overseas and to Mexico. White…
