Page 105 of Anarchy Missing

I look at the cops and smile as I rip my shirt open and show them what they just did to me.

My chest is crawling with thin, silver lines that remind me of the wires threaded through the windows of my office building.

SmartWires, I realize. My skin is made up… of SmartWires.

Cop Two pulls the inner door open and disappears.

I cock my head at Cop One. His mouth is hanging open in disbelief. He’s looking at me like I’m some kind of fucking freak.

“You got anything else?” I ask him in that same unfamiliar voice. “Because if not—I’d start running like your friend there.”

He stumbles backwards, the red light from the emergency flashers strobing across his face. And then he turns and bolts, slamming the door behind him.

As if that could stop me now.

“Dude,” the guy in the cell says with a laugh. “What the fuck was that?”

I turn my head sideways. Stare him down. He’s white. Not Caucasian white, though I do think he’s Caucasian. But cinderblock cell white. Like he’s so white from head to toe, he could blend in with the walls.

“Take me with you,” he says, his voice urgent and insistent. “Open the cell, man. Take me with you.”

“Go fuck yourself,” I growl.

“Fuck you!” he calls as I make my way towards the door that leads out of the cell block. “Fuck you, man! I’m gonna remember your face, Deep Cut! I’m gonna remember—”

But I don’t hear anymore. Because the city has opened the cell-block door for me and I’m walking through it.