Yeah, I know, I should be hyping Nightingale right now (signs are pointing to the ebook being back on Amazon soon – like next week soon!); but this character is bugging me to write about her. I’m not sure where this fits, or if this is even part of the Nightingale universe, but maybe giving Carol the spotlight will let me focus for a bit…
Carol on Patrol
Carol wiped the blood off her knuckles. Was it hers? Theirs? There wasn’t any way to know for sure. She should probably get it checked out.
Instead, she collapsed against the wall of the parking garage, her “oof” echoing and amplifying in the 3 AM emptiness. Nothing but LEDs to watch her.
Carol went to push the hair out of her face, and grimaced as she remembered the blood. She settled for ineffectually blowing at the stray hairs that fell in her face.
Carol was named after her mother’s favorite comic book hero. Back when they still had comics. Back when superheroes were still imaginary. Back before everything went to complete shit.
She allowed herself to close her eyes for a second, just a second. The lurkers she’d put down weren’t getting back up anytime soon, but she was out here patrolling on her own. There was no backup coming. There was no one to tell her to watch out. She could hear the waves lapping at the bottom level of the parking garage. She wondered how the lights stayed on in this place.
But then how did the lights stay on anywhere downtown anymore? After the ‘cane of ’32, Josephine, after it made kindling of Sarasota’s sea walls, the entire area became part of the Gulf of Mexico, the new shoreline shifted up around 301. People had enough trouble keeping the power on in the part of town that wasn’t flooded; but here…every night, like clockwork.
Her eyes snapped open, scanning the parts of the parking garage that were still dark. She’d smelt the shark before anything else, a permeating red tide rot.
Don’t forget! I’m giving away four copies of the latest Hulk comic to hit the (virtual) stands this week! Hop over to the post to comment and win!