A Thug, a Lady, and Casings

I fought with a thug last night. But he was different than all the rest. He was hunting for me.

The night was busy. I jumped from one location to another breaking up crimes. Pimps beating there girls, punks robbing anyone they happened to come across. The gang wars I didn?t get involved with, I figured it would be better if they got rid of on another. Then I came across the well dressed lady in a bad part of town. She looked like an exec from a big time firm, and she was being assaulted. The punk had been slamming his meat fists into her face for a few moments before I was able to get down to the street. And when I did, he turned to me and smiled a missing tooth grin, before saying, "It?s about time you showed up." I was set up, so I expected the blow that was coming my way, letting it hit me in the jaw I went with the punch and rolled out of the way far enough the punk couldn?t get another punch off without having to take a few steps in my direction. The lady was staggering to her feet with the help of the wall propping her up, her once pretty face was starting to puff from the beating, but she was still an unknown piece of the puzzle. I couldn?t look into her eyes to see what side she was on; I was busy with the thug.

The punk was just about on me, he was big, very big, and slow. I fainted left, then dove right and swept his feet out from under him. He fell on his back with a loud thud. I straddled him, and grabbed his collar with my left hand and started beating his face like it was a whack-a-mole at an arcade. Something caught my ear, and I stopped beating the punk. He was laughing. I shook him, till his eyes opened and I gazed into his soul. He laughed even harder, ?that won?t work with me, I don?t have a soul.? The punk knew my secret. I let him drop to the ground and walked toward the lady. She looked up at me with a crooked smile, "My boss will be pleased, we learned more about you tonight."

I walked up to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, "Who do you work for?" I said shacking her furiously. She only laughed, when the sound of gun fire forced me to drop to the ground a second shot came on the heels of the first, followed by the dull plop of the bullet hitting flesh, I looked up to see the tiny hole in her forehead and blood spattered graffiti on the wall behind. She rested against the wall for a second before her lifeless body slid to the ground.

The thug was starting to get up when another shot echoed in the night and he fell to the ground.

I dashed into a shadow and looked for any movement that might give away the shooter. Nothing broke the still of the night. I ran across the parking lot toward the place I thought the shots had come from. Sirens were wailing in the distance and I knew I only had a moment before the place would be crawling with police. I put on thermal vision goggles and scanned the area. In a planter box along the street I saw two faint heat signatures glowing. I ran over to the box and looked close. Two casing had fallen onto the dirt and momentarily heated the ground. The casings were gone. Only two casings? I had heard three shots. One shot caused me to drop and then one each for the lady and thug. I focused and thought. The first shot had come from the left of where the last two shots came from. I ran that way and found a small park like area with trees, and grass and bushes. I scanned the area but no heat signatures registered. Suddenly a blue glow caught my eye, something below ambient temperature. I went to it, and their in the grass was the heat impression of a casing, except this impression was cold, very cold. I looked at the scale on the side of the display. Minus one hundred degrees, dry ice has a surface temperature of minus one hundred and nine. What was this?

Suddenly my nightly haunts, protecting the innocent from the criminals of this city had become something more. I was now a target. But who was after me?

I had rattled the criminal element enough that they finally sent someone out. I was interested; the nights were becoming much more exciting.

A New Arrival

This city, My city, has a new protector of the night. I watched him from several blocks away. He sat hunched on the roof of a five story apartment building, watching the streets below. At first I thought I was watching a thug looking for a mark; after all, the signs were there, dressed in black, hooded, watching the street diligently. I was surprised when a man was attacked by a gang of youths, and the black clad protector dropped along the wall to the street, and saved the man from the youths. He fought with a conservation of force shared only with masters of the martial arts. This character is worth further study. I have been haunting these streets for years, and no one has ever came to the defense of the good citizens. This is a first.

I have made further progress at uncovering those behind the trafficking of human flesh for feeding the zombies. They are linked with the same people that have been promoting and protecting prostitution in this city. I was given a name by an informant, a girl that lost all her family to the cruel machinations of zombies, who was forced into prostitution. The name was Cheryl Bomagato. From what I have found out she is a Union representative for city workers. I haven?t been able to find a link between her and the zombies or prostitution.

I am the Mirrorman and when I look into the faces of prostitutes, I see zombies. Where did the zombies come from and how is it that they have infiltrated the highest levels of government? This city shivers with unknown fear, while the country moves, as lemmings to the sea, inexorable toward a cliff.

The last act of an individual

Today I saw the last act of brave individuals. I saw the last act of someone who knows what it means to take responsibility for ones actions. I saw professionalism and individuality at the highest level. John Galt would have been proud.

I saw the Captain of a destroyer; take the initiative and authorize the use of deadly force against pirates that held a U.S. Citizen hostage.

The Captain should be rewarded as well as the SEAL?s that did the job. But they will not. In this world and the environment we now find ourselves. Individuality is not rewarded, professionalism is not rewarded. Nothing but crime is rewarded. In a year the pirates will the ones winning the day.

Today I saw the first steps of the teeth being removed from the military. Within two years pirates will be holding U.S. Naval ships for ransom, their crews be-headed and the government will give more and more to the pirates, with nothing given in return.

The power and force is being taken from our military, the power is being transferred to environmentalist.

My city is all but lost. My country is next.

I am the Mirrorman. I see in the heart and soul of men. I know longer see individuals; I see a perverted communal thought.

WHO IS JOHN GALT?

I saw the question spray painted on the wall of an abandoned building today. Someone in the depressed slums of this city knows how to read. Either that or the question has taken on a new meaning. But for anyone who has read the book Atlas Shrugged, the question I s cry for help, a rage against what is happening, a scream for help.

Obazy is not John Galt.

John Galt believed in the individual and their ability to survive and thrive, to invent and innovate, to do good.

Obazy doesn?t believe any of that. He believes the government needs to take care of the people, to control them, to tell them what they can and cannot do, what they can accomplish, and how much any one person can have. He believes and is building an oppressive government, which will steal freedom in the name of benevolence.

I know who not John Galt is.

Equality and Subjugation

This city is a toilet. It reeks of long suffered ignorance and hate, disguised as tolerance and political correctness.

If you keep shaking the bottle, eventually it will explode. I smack the bottle every chance I get.

There can only be discrimination when one group uses their influence over another and on the dark streets I haunt, that influence is paraded about like card checks at a union meeting. Equality is a utopian dream of socialists. Forcing equality subjugates everyone to the enforcers.

The meek parasites scurry about afraid of their socialist handlers, afraid they may bee seen to have a little more than their neighbor. Equality will destroy this city, in many ways it has already.