Stretching over to the night stand, Barbara silences the beeping alarm on her cell phone. When she sits up in the king sized bed, the sheets drop off her naked body. She glances over at Yusuf’s bare backside next to her, while shaking her head in disappointment.
On the top floor of a similarly deserted building, Trigger squats near an empty window frame.
In a desolate area of the Brooklyn Navy Yard, within a warehouse filled with stacks of deserted shipping containers and wooden crates (stamped with the word ‘AtTuziVision’), the Fearless – Relay, Night Terror, Magmamite, and Nobody – secretly conduct their weekly training session.
On cue, Wally steps directly into Abby’s line of sight, wearing a long blue cloak atop his street clothes.
Then, a voice next to her ear speaks. Although she is unable to turn her head to look, the voice itself is enough for her to instantly know that it is Justina.
With a sly smile, the owner points a stubby finger down at her caged necklace inside the yellowing glass case.
The portly, unkempt man sitting behind the counter gives Abby a creepy up-and-down look as she nervously enters his dingy pawn shop.
Abby and Justina sit at a dilapidated table, dimly lit by a few scattered lanterns. While they pick at cold cans of food, they watch Frank pick at the cold body of Gemini.
With Michael in a deep sleep on one end of the couch, Vic relaxes on the other, while Jamie and JaVon are back in their gaming positions on the floor.
It is then he finally notices Arsenelle, floating in the night air just beyond his reach.
