TWENTY ONE
“Hey buddy, move out!” came the gruff voice.
Kyle felt himself being kicked, then nudged with a baton.
He opened his eyes.
He was lying on a cold, hard surface, but had no idea where. Sunlight was creeping over the horizon, and it burned his eyes and skin.
“Hey buddy, did you hear me? I said move it!” the cop yelled.
Kyle opened his eyes fully now, and realized he’d been lying on marble. On the cold, marble steps of City Hall. He was outside, at daybreak, lying sprawled out, like a bum. He looked up and saw two uniformed policeman standing over him, poking and prodding him with their batons, smiling at each other.
Kyle tried to remember what happened, how he’d got here. He remembered reporting to Rexius. Then being grabbed, being tied down. Then, the acid. He reached up a
