Joanna Slattery spoke into her phone as she scanned the area, curious. The wall to the bike shop was blown out, but many bikes remained displayed on the walls and back area. Someone looked like they had dragged a crane through the main floor, leaving a daunting hole for wheels and frames that had spilled inside. Above, the roof had collapsed inward, allowing the sun’s harsh light to make up for the lack of electricity stolen from the wounded building. Something about the shape of the damage felt off to Joanna. Calculated destruction, but still messy. Were they searching for something?

  “Your car?” Slattery extended her arm to the owner, Bert Sackler, who was assessing the damages with frozen disbelief.

  “It’s a sedan.” He sounded like he barely registered the question, scratching at his long nose extending between baggy green eyes.

  “No, I meant what about your car? Did they destroy it?”

  “No.”

  “And your money?”

  “They took the whole cash register but it was empty. I haven’t taken stock yet, but I think they left all my bikes. Including the ones that fell in the hole.”

  “Interesting.”

  Bert snapped toward her, eyes hard. “I’m so glad you’re getting such a fascinating story from my life being upended.”

  “Well, at least you have insurance, right Mr. Sackler?”

  “Sure, but that means I have to make do without the shop until they repair this place! I heard there’s someone in HUE that’ll do a cheap repair for free, I need to call them. Maybe I can ask a neighboring shop if they’ll share the floor with me while I wait on that…”

  Joanna tapped the top of her phone, wondering if Bert was an actor or a true victim. Glancing at the app, it had been recording for 20 minutes. Plenty of time for a decent story, but she still needed answers.

  Tilting her phone to him casually, she looked away as she asked her next question. “How well did you know the people that did this?”

  Bert scoffed, amused. Then he frowned at the phone hovering at his chest. “That was a joke, right?”

  “I’m just asking questions.”

  “I don’t know those lunatics! Why would I know them?”

  “That’s the most important question, isn’t it? Why would someone make the effort to ruin a store but not steal anything of value?” Joanna mused.

  “You’re not printing that I know them, right? I’ll have you sued for slander! Or libel... Defamation?” Bert blinked, confusing himself.

  Giving a side eye, she scoffed. “I don’t print lies.”

  “What about the lemon cake stuff?”

  “I never claimed it was real. I shared the very recent phenomena of rumor mills brewing around Awakened abilities, starting with that ruby ring fiasco that burned William Warren’s jewelry store down.”

  “Maybe. But you have to admit you fueled the hype that came afterward. Lemons were sold for like… 5 dollars each at my local lemon guy!”

  “Local lemon guy? You don’t shop at a grocer? Even they can’t price gouge that much without some repercussions.”

  “Not for my fruits, he’s way cheaper.”

  “Until it benefits him.”

  “I don’t blame him, but you spread the rumor as much as you were just ‘reporting the news.’ I’d do the same if bikes suddenly had an association with Awakening. Just like that jeweler probably would have kept going until his place burned down.”

  Joanna paused. The jeweler had insurance on his place too. Was that a lead? No, people always insured their business, it was good practice. But she was missing something. She wasn’t following the money right. Insurance companies wouldn’t want destruction of the people they insured, because then they’d be forced to pay out. Unless they were trying to create a new category of damage so they could claim it wasn’t covered? That felt too far-fetched. They could have done that without staging break-ins.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  “Anything else of note happen during this break in?”

  “My videos are pretty poor quality after all the damage, but I could swear one of those men looks like he had pizza for hands.”

  “Can I see it?” Joanna asked, curious.

  Scrolling through his phone, Bert provided a somewhat clear black-and-white picture of a man hauling away the cash register. In front of him was a massive man bashing down the wall and leading the way out. There was a strange texture on the smaller goggled man’s arms that didn’t appear on any of the other robbers. Zooming in made the screen too grainy to tell. But from what she saw, his arms looked a lot like cooked cheese.

  “Send me a copy. I’ll pay a few hundred,” Joanna said.

  “Sure!”

  Already, she was juggling between “Pizza Guy With A Bad Delivery” and “Did Someone Order A Robber?” as her clickbait headlines. Internally, she couldn’t stand the infantile naming schemes, but the reason was no surprise.

  Regretfully, she followed the money.

  Pictures of guys with pizza arms with a silly title got way more clicks than reporting on another smash and grab job in Hammerton. More clicks meant more ad money. The Slattery Network was doing well for her ever since she pivoted to exclusively writing about Awakened events. Mayoral runs and Hammerton hydration infrastructure changes meant nothing to her readers. They just wanted to see the flashiest or silliest things possible. Quick bites to share on Chirpper.

  But the easy stories were just a means to fund her larger investigation. Something strange was going on with the Underground robberies. Sometimes the same black-goggled people would save lives. And they never ran a simple smash and grab. It was always something more akin to an explode and grab. Destroy the entrance and surrounding area, then take the money. As though they wanted to be overt or do the most damage. Awakened people could be sneaky if it suited them, but they didn’t do it.

  With “Bert’s Bikes” destroyed, the Underground and other small-time criminals had taken down a total of twenty buildings across Hammerton, and damaged almost a hundred more. Perhaps they were searching for something and they wanted to throw off scent by making the map too chaotic. She already couldn’t make heads or tails of why they attacked certain places. Upham saw as many break-ins as the Excava District. Indus was as susceptible to their invasions as Hammerton Central. Even the Hero Unification Entity had a run-in where there was smash and no grab.

  What was she missing? The naive answer was that they wanted to test the limits of their abilities, but then why leave all the bikes alone in Bert’s place? Why allow Warren to keep any valuable gems?

  Questions were only fun when she was on her way to answers. She felt further stumped with every interview she conducted. Perhaps she should give up and get a few more interviews with HUE. The one with Sami was odd, but got her the most clicks in months. People were still reading it, curious for any insight on HUE. There was also the other organization, EUE. But she never saw them in the field and wasn’t certain how to find their headquarters.

  No, she should stay with the things that interested her. It would keep her engaged. Her next step was to find some Freelance Awakened to investigate why they wanted to avoid organizations like HUE and question whether they were on the case of the Underground. Perhaps one of them had captured a member of the Underground and she could finally get some answers.

  Blinking, she raised her phone quickly for a photo. A moped puttered by carrying two men in black goggles, another youngster with a paunch slung over one of their shoulders, and a small cat. Fast as she moved, the picture came out blurry. Shame, that picture would have lasted for a strong week with a snarky enough headline.

  She looked out at the moped as it drove out of view. Strange. The third passenger didn’t have goggles. Did she just witness a kidnapping?

  “Do you know how HUE makes money?” Joanna asked, curious.

  “You’re still here?” Bert glanced up at her from a bike he inspected.

  “Not on any official means. I’m just curious.”

  “They have a donations page. I threw them a bit myself when they stopped some crazies from getting my car on the intersection of Main and Third a few days back,” Bert said. “I don’t know if that’s their only source, though.”

  “Interesting, I didn’t know that,” Joanna said, her tone even.

  Her heart exploded in a run as she immediately left to take notes at home from a new angle. Donations! It all fit! HUE members could dress up as a so-called ‘Underground’ and wreak havoc on an area, then show up with members without goggles and allegedly save the day. The press shows them off, they get more donations, and the cycle would repeat!

  It also explained why the damage was so strange. They wanted good shots for headlines, not the story about things being stolen! It’s why the robbery was almost an afterthought, they just wanted to cover bases from people investigating why things happened the way they did.

  Waving a stray chicken away from her path, she raced to her home office to gather as many photos as she could of members of HUE. If she could find anyone with pizza hands, then she had all the proof she needed. Or maybe, a young man with a pronounced gut who hung out with black goggle members. Or possibly, someone that could manipulate the color and look of their hands to look like cheese in a security camera.

  Something like that Sami kid. He had a thing with his hand.

  Joanna had much to write.