The streets of Wexdale were chilly with a midnight breeze. Chatter echoed over the low rooftops of the neighbourhood. The darkness of the road was cut by the headlights of lonely cars passing by. Maybe if someone was up late, the sound of TV could be heard from outside and maybe a colour of the set’s picture glowed on a window.

  Royce and Cadence walked down the sidewalk side by side, eyes on the roofs and sky. Royce had a handheld camera strapped to his palm.

  Cadence scoffed and zipped up her jacket as far as it would go. She clutched her arms. “How much longer do we need to be out here?”

  Royce lowered a sleeve to check his watch. “One and a half yet.”

  “Geez,” said Cadence, glaring into space, “can we cut off early? I don’t think that light thing is appearing tonight.”

  Dead Head assigned Royce up to Wexdale to investigate a sighting of a strange figure of light seen around the neighbourhood. Whether it was a real thing or just rumours, Royce’s job was the same: to patrol the neighbourhood on the lookout for the mysterious cryptid. Two eyes were better than one and when Royce asked if he could bring along his girlfriend, Dead Head agreed.

  Royce offered a warm grin to Cadence. “Hey, we’re getting good money out here. If my math’s right, we’re getting 33 an hour doing this!”

  Cadence chuckled. “I guess you’re right.” She looked around. “I think your boss is going to be disappointed, though. This guy isn’t showing.” She chortled. “Do you think the thing even exists?”

  “I have no idea at this point,” said Royce. He rotated around to look down the road behind them. No sparkling guy flying over rooftops. He turned back forward and hung his head, chuckling to himself. “When you’re coworkers with a weird vampire guy and a cloud boy, your ability to disbelieve– it gets twisted, y’know?”

  Dead Head wanted to check to see if Cadence was trustworthy so Royce had to bring his girl down to the warehouse before they began their shift patrolling the streets. At the warehouse, Cadence got to look over the organization’s construction of the portal. Royce had to fill her in on what it was for.

  “Is that portal for real?” asked Cadence, “What’s your boss going to use it for?” She had her doubts.

  “When it’s done?” Royce thought for a moment, looking through the optic of the camera to make sure the battery was alright for awhile. He said, “I think he’s planning some major robbery.”

  Cadence sidled up to Royce, smiling brightly. “Gonna get loads of gold, right?”

  Royce chuckled. “I think so!” He giggled. “Man, what would you rob if you could teleport anywhere?”

  “Probably a vault,” said Cadence, knowing how lame of answer that was.

  Royce smirked. “Buckingham Palace.”

  “You mean in Britain?” asked Cadence.

  “Yeah,” said Royce. “It’d send the queen and everything into chaos!”

  Cadence let out a laugh that took the night wide. She clutched Royce’s arm and the two walked down the road. Even if the light thing didn’t show, they only had a couple hours left on their shift.

  It was meeting time at the warehouse. Dead Head’s boys had to gather on the weekends being that the construction crew took the weekdays. After all, the boss couldn’t have the people building his portal getting spooked by some of the less presentable members of the gang, like Hustler Petrov. So Dead Head’s men were to gather that Sunday, just as the afternoon turned to the evening.

  Thrash walked past the portal when she arrived, giving the structure a look. A lot of the portal’s foundation– a frame of steel rising about seven metres off the ground– was done, but there was still lots of construction that needed to be finished before the portal was ready for use. That’s what Thrash had heard, anyway.

  Plastic meshes were erected around the parts of the floor that had fresh cement, and as she passed, Thrash’s staff got stuck in the fence for a second. Thrash’s footfalls couldn’t be heard over the chatter as she went to the floor space around the door to Dead Head’s office.

  The crowd was there, ready for the meeting to begin. People had brought out a couple seats, but proper chairs were a scarce commodity around that place so most of them had to sit on boxes or crates. Royce’s girlfriend was there so Thrash wasn’t the only female there, although it was mostly a curiosity to Thrash. She didn’t care that much.

  Just as the meeting got going and she took a seat on a crate in the corner, Thrash looked around. Where was Haze? Usually the cloud boy was right by Dead Head’s side but Thrash guessed that the meeting was too grown-up for the young one’s input, so he was excluded.

  Dead Head took a chair by the door, overlooking the crowd with Shimmer standing by his side. The man didn’t rise from his seat as he began the meeting by explaining what happened to the Northside Daggers. They weren’t much of a threat and various members of Dead Head’s gang didn’t even know they were a thing, but they were causing trouble for Dead Head and now they were gone.

  “The Northside Daggers are a problem solved,” said Petrov, standing up from his seat and rapping his chest with his cane. He then drew a face of sorrow like he was imitating Melpomene. “It’s a shame that we had to resort to violence, but at least all of our men made it out okay.”

  “And you didn’t leave any evidence?” said Dead Head.

  “None,” said Petrov. He mimed a sweeping motion. “I made sure to eliminate our footsteps before we left.”

  Dice knew Petrov was lying about getting rid of evidence but if he spoke up and got Petrov in trouble, he would likely get in trouble, too, since it was also his job to cover their tracks. As tempting as it was to bring Petrov down a notch, Dice kept quiet.

  “Very well,” said Dead Head.

  Petrov thought to sit back down but then he turned to Dead Head, curious look in his starry eyes. “That said, uh, there was a bit of trouble determining who was the leader of our outing.”

  “Burrzie was driving,” said Dead Head, expecting Petrov to talk right past that fact, “Therefore Burrzie was the leader. If I don’t specify, the driver is the leader.” He dragged his eyes away, overtly annoyed with Petrov. “I wasn’t expecting who the leader was to make much of a difference in that situation.”

  “Clearly, I was ideal for the situation,” said Petrov. “Why! If I hadn’t intervened, some of our men might have not made it back in one piece.”

  How much of Dead Head’s time was claimed by Petrov’s self-aggrandizing? He didn’t know but against his better judgment, Dead Head beckoned Petrov. “So what’s your point? You should have been the leader of that hit?”

  “Actually,” said Petrov, rubbing his glove on his chest, “I was thinking I should be second in command of this operation.”

  The room took off. Some howled outrageously while others just laughed. Petrov kept a square face, though, trying to hide his frustration at everyone finding his claim amusing. He wasn’t expecting so much laughter, though.

  Dead Head wasn’t having any of it. A scowl split his face. “Is this the right time to ask for a promotion?” He puttered a groan. “I have a second in command. It’s Shimmer.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Shimmer?” asked Petrov, insult peppering his voice. “He’s nothing but a bureaucratic goon!”

  Shimmer tightened his eyes. “I do important work here.”

  Petrov brushed off Shimmer’s glare. “You need someone to delegate,” he said to Dead Head, walking closer. “You have about two dozen employees and you need more managers around. Look at the KweeBlock situation! You yourself need to deal with them personally. You’re overworked!”

  Dead Head groaned, defeat in his tone. “I’m going to deal with the KweeBlock situation personally because my abilities are a counter to theirs.” He softened his face with a smirk and let out his arms. The lights in the place flickered for a moment, getting curious eyes looking around the warehouse. The lights went back to normal, Dead Head dropped his hands, and he scowled. “This is not the time to vie for a promotion. Take a seat.”

  Petrov took a look around the room. A bunch of smiles from his coworkers. They really enjoyed watching him try to appeal to Dead Head and fall flat. Whatever. Petrov put on a casual grin and sat down, cane resting on his lap.

  Dead Head sat there. Two dozen employees? Yeah, that was the size of it. When he started his gang he wasn’t expecting to build a team more than a dozen– not before he and Shimmer finished the portal and had access to minions of a more hellish nature.

  Burrzie, dressed in a combination of snow and baseball caps, scratched under his headwear. “Did you get that blue made? When it’s hitting the streets?”

  Shimmer found it amusing the nicknames that the men made for their product. He took the answer. “We’ve talked with the Condottieri to see if they want to buy from us again, but they’re full for the time being. I’ve been talking with a crime family from Montréal. They might buy the entire batch off of us.”

  “We produce a lot,” said Burrzie, “There can’t be that many people around to buy the stuff– not in big batches like we want. Say this Montréal group buys this batch; who after that?”

  There wasn’t going to be an after that. Or at least, Dead Head wasn’t expecting there to be. All he needed was enough money to finish the portal. Or was that enough? He might have had to ask Shimmer later. Through the portal there were countless demons waiting for his command– unpaid labour– but was that all there was to it? Surely he would still need some money after the fact to keep the lights on at the very least.

  Those were thoughts for later. He said to Burrzie, “By then the Condottieri will be ready to make another deal.”

  Shimmer adjusted his glasses. “But... the portal deserves the attention. Whatever we can put together by selling product, the portal’s potential is infinitely greater.”

  “Have you decided what you are going to do with it?” asked Thrash.

  Dead Head had to keep his men intrigued with stories about amazing heists, but he didn’t want to be found out by reckless lies. He didn’t give anything definite. “I’m still thinking the American National Reserve.”

  Shimmer noticed that Dead Head was struggling to find an enticing cover story, so he interjected: “I’ve been looking into stories about teleportation to give us a better idea of what it could be used for. And how to use it safely.” He cleared his throat. “But... it is hard to know if something is fact or fiction. So much information out there is folklore.”

  “How to use it safely?” asked Dice. “You don’t know?”

  “Not right now,” answered Dead Head, without really thinking about how that would land for his men.

  The room stirred, and some of them seemed concerned or bewildered. Royce spoke up. “Do you think it’s a good idea to use the thing if you don’t know what it does?”

  The words might have been clumsy but the other men caught what Royce was asking. Dead Head was quick to calm his men. “I’m not expecting for the first try to go well.”

  But that didn’t work. His men got even more anxious. They shouted concerns at their boss with some rising from their seats in outrage. Thrash eyed Dead Head from her seat, wondering if the guy she signed on for was a fool.

  Shimmer knew what Dead Head was trying to explain, even if the words were inaccurate. He stepped forward and spoke aloud. “What Dead Head means is we will take this step-by-step with lots of precaution. We are not going to throw anyone into the portal without testing it safely.”

  Dead Head pointed a finger up at his second. “That’s right. This will be a long process.” He had to stop himself again. “I mean, not quite long. We’re not going to try to rob the Vatican the very first day.”

  The room settled. Voices quieted and guys like Burrzie and Dice settled back in their seats.

  “At the very least,” said Thrash, menacing smile curving on her chin, “we could put other people through the portal and dispose of them that way. Get rid of someone without leaving a body.”

  A few of them chuckled.

  Dead Head rubbed his chin. “I don’t think we’ll be doing that, but I’ll consider it.”

  He had to pretend, ultimately, that this was something he was thinking about– like there was ongoing speculation. It helped sell the lie.

  “Changing the subject,” said Dead Head, looking up at Bruno, “what happened with those deals with, uh, those Downsview people?”

  Bruno cleared his throat and leaned upward in his chair. “It went down. No problems.”

  Dead Head hung his gaze on Bruno for a couple seconds, but then broke away. He thought, who else had business with him? There was Royce, possibly the youngest member of Dead Head’s crew if not for Haze. Dead Head shot his eye at Royce. “Did you find anything at Wexdale?”

  “Uhhh...” Royce took a hand up to his mouth. He didn’t think the boss would like the answer. “N-nothing. We walked the streets until two o’clock and we didn’t see a figure of light.”

  “Did you look suspicious?” asked Dead Head.

  Royce huffed and smiled. “Nah, man. With the video camera, people just thought we was a couple kids looking for footage to get on the news.”

  Cadence giggled. “When we got there, we met this old lady at a park who told us all about the light person. They’re really excited about it.”

  Dead Head looked off, then nodded. “Alright.”

  “Is this about that light person?” asked Thrash, leaning up and shooting a scowl at Dead Head. “Are you ghost-hunting now?”

  Dead Head never liked how condescending Thrash could be but he blew it off. He said, “I was worried–” No, wrong word– “I was wondering if there was something to that rumour about a light person around the Wexdale area.”

  “Our biggest nuisances have been supernatural things,” said Shimmer. “Keeping tabs on all things unreal around the city is a precaution.”

  “Yes,” said Dead Head. “In fact, over the next week, most of you will be doing recon of sorts. I want to know what the Condottieri are doing, yeah, but–” He rolled his neck– “Shimmer’s got word of some... creature seen in the abandoned subways.”

  Dead Head had weird plans for his men the upcoming week but his crew would put up with it. The money was good. The meeting itself went on for a few minutes longer with Dead Head and Shimmer checking in on what each member had been up to the last week, but it was mostly uneventful. Deals were made. Cashflow came in. Uneventful stuff.

  After the meeting when everyone got up to go home, Dead Head returned to his office. Shimmer followed him, almost knowing that Dead Head wanted to speak. As Shimmer entered the room, the two exchanged a knowing look between them.

  “Not bad,” said Shimmer, taking a second to look through a crack in the door before shutting it. No one was around, so he spoke freely. “I don’t think anyone is suspicious.”

  “Tell me,” said Dead Head, sitting down in his chair, “these demons– are they going to be dangerous?”

  Shimmer stood up straight. “I wouldn’t have suggested them if they weren’t.”

  “How am I supposed to control them?” asked Dead Head.

  Shimmer paused. He hadn’t thought about that detail yet. He said, “There’s a device we’ll create once the portal is close to finished. It... allows you to control them.”

  “How?” asked Dead Head. “Is it like a controller for a RC car?”

  “It’s...” Shimmer trailed off, concocting an excuse. “It’s like a whistle. It controls the minions through sounds.”

  Dead Head stared for a moment like he was suspicious, but then he relaxed. “Okay.”

  Shimmer relaxed, too. It seemed like Dead Head had bought the lie. Shimmer would have to improvise later, though.

  Getting up to pace around his room, Dead Head asked Shimmer, “Do you think I should keep the drug trade going once I get the portal finished?”

  Shimmer scratched the back of his neck. “For a least a little while. With your demonic minions, you’ll find better avenues for income.”

  Dead Head stared out the window. His men were leaving the building, shuffling out the doors. “I’m not sure what I’ll do with–” He knocked his head at their direction– “these people when the time comes.”

  Shimmer cracked a subtle smirk. “You could always... get rid of them.”

  Dead Head stared for a prolonged moment. Then: “Maybe.”

  He went back to the desk and made sure the drawers was closed. Actually, he went around the room and made sure everything was in order– straightening out stacks of books and closed all boxes. Shimmer remained by the door.

  “I’m going to wait until everyone’s gone and then close up,” said Dead Head.

  “Alright,” said Shimmer. “I’ll be leaving then.”

  “Goodbye,” said Dead Head.

  Shimmer went out the door. Mostly everyone was gone, but then there was Thrash. She was leaning by a beam, almost looking like she was waiting for Shimmer.

  “If you ask me,” said Thrash, knowing nobody had, “I don’t think this portal is going to work.”

  Shimmer didn’t have to give a single letter, but he indulged the bratty subordinate’s teasing. “What do you know about it?”

  “The portal?” said Thrash, her voice pitching high with innocence, “Nothing, but I know enough about the stranger things in our world to know there’s never been a teleportation device.” Thrash smirked and rolled up her hands. “Hope this thing doesn’t blow you all up when you turn it on.”

  Shimmer said nothing. He’d let her think that the project was some sort of misguided experiment. She wouldn’t put too much energy into resisting or questioning it then.

  Thrash and Shimmer parted ways with Thrash walking out the side door and Shimmer out the front. Before he left, Shimmer looked back and gazed at Dead Head through the office window. A control device for the demons? What a mockery. No human could control the fiends that would emit from the portal.

  Shimmer cursed himself, though. Now he would have to produce a device that resembled what he imagined up in the office back there. Dead Head was starting to ask questions. Was he suspicious of Shimmer? He might have been.

  But Shimmer just had to keep the lie going for a little while longer.