Knocking away a few cobwebs Mason muttered to himself, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
Raina happened to notice a calendar on the wall, took a piece of paper towel she had in her pocket and wiping away several layers of dust, read out loud, “May/1989”.
Mason groaned, “Yeah sounds about right. This place certainly looks like it hasn’t been used in about 40 years or more.”
Benton not wanting to waste any more time then advised, “Alright, we better call Kyle.”
Mason pulled Kyle up on the commlink, “Hey Kyle—it looks like you gave us a false lead.”
Mason didn’t quite mean for his words to sound like a criticism, but to ever so sensitive Kyle, it most certainly did. To him it seemed like an outright attack as he stuttered, “Bu—but that’s impossible!”
Mason disagreed, “No buddy, I’m afraid its all too possible. This place is deserted.”
Kyle was adamant however, as he repeated, “No! I don’t believe it! I have the data right here! This is the place that all that foot traffic is coming out of!”
Benton hearing the exchange looked at Mason and mouthed the words, ‘Kill it.’ Mason tired of trying to convince Kyle, nodded in agreement, before telling Kyle, “Alright buddy, we have to go. We’ll see you at the base.”
Kyle could be heard still pleading his case in what almost sounded like abject desperation, “Wait—Mason. I think—” The only thing that silenced Kyle’s frustration was the forced hang up of the call.
Benton looked at Mason, “Damn that sucks.”
Mason agreed, “Yeah… Alright come on Matt, let’s get the hell out of here.”
Raina meanwhile couldn’t help but notice that while Mason kept directly addressing Benton, he was barely even acknowledging her. It was obvious that he was suddenly trying to keep his distance.
And as they stepped out of the church it was Benton, not Mason, that checked on her, “You doing alright Raina.”
Clearing her throat, and attempting to hide her disappointment, she informed him, “Yeah Matt—yeah I’m fine.”
Mason heard her however, and he knew that chilled, pensive tone of voice meant that she was most certainly not fine. Finally relenting, he walked over to her, and explained himself, “Hey Raina, sorry if I seem distracted, I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.”
Raina let out a slight laugh, “Uh—yeah I think we all do. This is a high stakes mission we’re in the middle of.
Mason quietly replied, “Well, yeah…” But didn’t offer any further explanation.
Raina was glad he was at least acknowledging his foibles, but she was still at a loss to understand how to clear the tumult in Mason’s psyche. She knew that she could never replace his dead wife, but if he would just give her the chance, she would do her best to accommodate him. She was frustrated, but she was still willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
She squeezed his hand and told him, “It’s alright Mason.”
This was followed by Benton making the announcement, “Alright folks, our chariot awaits.” Just as his hummer was seen turning the corner and heading right for them.
The car stopped, and Benton barked into his phone, “Okay—unlock.”
The car’s doors were then heard unlocking. Benton got in the driver’s seat, Mason got in the passenger side, and Raina opened the side door hopping into the middle row seat of the hummer, right behind Mason and Benton.
Benton switching his car back to manual, then started to drive out of the heavily gentrified Brooklyn neighborhood. He didn’t get very far however, before Mason suddenly shouted, “Hey stop! Stop the car!”
The way Mason was shouting, you would think that someone had been killed. Pounding the brakes Benton anxiously questioned him, “Mason what is it?”
Mason motioning toward the church now a few blocks behind them, desperately tried to convey, “Back! We have to go back!”
Mason catching his breath then explained, “The Church—there is some kind of graffiti on it. Take me back to take a look!”
Benton was a bit incredulous, “Graffiti?”
There was graffiti all over NYC, what was the difference? But Mason insisted, “Damn it. Just take me back. Please!”
Benton was never one to argue with Mason, and so trusting his judgment he turned the hummer around and brought it back a short distance away. From here the group piled out and converged on the hitherto unseen side of the building that had so captured Mason’s attention in the rearview mirror of Benton’s hummer.
Standing before the graffiti scrawled wall, at first no one else could see what Mason saw. The wall was absolutely covered with gang signs and nonsensical tags by local graffiti artists. Raina staring at a graffiti drawing of some kind of big eyed, green skinned alien sitting on top of a flying saucer, his mouth wide open as he prepared to shove what looked like a Big Mac inside of it.
Raina remarked, “Uh—this just looks like some crap some stoned teenager sprayed across here.”
Giving Mason a look that suggested perhaps he was working a bit too hard, she asked him, “Are you sure you’re alright Mason?”
Mason wasn’t paying attention to the outlying junk of previous graffiti artists however, he was looking deeper, because right in the middle of this mural he pinpointed something that no one else had seen. Raising his hand to the center of the wall, he pointed, “There! Can’t you see it?”
As they squinted their eyes—they did indeed see it. A red stream seemed to run right by the comical image of the alien, and nestled inside was—in plain English—the phrase, “By blood we cleanse.”
Raina muttered, “Uh—I’m guessing whoever drew the happy hamburger munching alien didn’t do this!”
Mason shook his head, “No this was added on later. And I have a good idea by who.”
Benton mulling it all over in his mind, “But would they really be so stupid to leave a calling card like this? Or are these guys just so freaking out of their minds that they no longer care?”
Mason
