Thanks to Michelle Hauck for arranging this P1 blog hop for aspiring writers to gain some exposure and critique on their first pages. Follow the link for instructions, or to read the other fabulous entries!
The Manikin Initiative
Wake up and Smell the Gasoline
I sit at the back of a large, dingy basement converted into a church. A few dozen congregants, mostly black, listen to the Pastor rattle on about passive resistance, making our voices heard, blah blah blah. A pretty normal scene, but everything about it – every fucking thing – is wrong.
I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know who I am, and I’m certain the middle-aged woman’s body I’m wearing like a meat puppet isn’t my own. The woman has cranial implants, so I try to use them for a web search. Something to explain what happened to me, but the connection is dead.
Three men walk in the back door as I scan around in confusion. An odd bunch, the lead with slicked back hair and ill-fitting cornflower blue suit, followed by an aging pot-bellied punk rocker in a studded red leather jacket, and an Asian man, short, but so muscular he seems ready to burst out of his perfectly-tailored grey silk suit. All three carry army style duffel bags.
The Pastor adjusts his steel-rimmed glasses. “Excuse me, this is a private gathering.”
“This won’t take long.” Slick smiles broadly. He unzips his duffel and produces a U-lock, which he snaps into place on the exit doors. The other two head for the side doors while Slick withdraws a heavy pipe wrench from his bag. “Plumbing emergency.”