Project ROWDY 2-22

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Twenty-six hours.  Debbie Grayson had been wearing a hole in the waiting room linoleum of the GDA medical wing for the last twenty-six hours, and Director Cecil Stedman could feel that particular headache building behind his eyes, the kind that usually followed after alien invasions or mass superhuman casualities.  Sometimes both on the same Tuesday….

Laying on his bed, Mark Grayson stared down at his physics textbook and tried not to think too much about his physics teacher. Actually, ex-physics teacher. Or actually actually, his late physics teacher. The one who’d gone super-villain last week. The one who’d turned the cool kids into cyborg suicide bombs. The one who suicide…

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ROWDY: LINK The frosting was fake. Plastic-sweet and thick like it was afraid of being edible, like it came out of a tub labeled WARNING: FOR DECORATION ONLY. Brick didn’t care. He took another bite, chewed it like drywall, swallowed. Perfect. The banner drooped sideways over the GDA conference room, half-taped to a ventilation grate,…

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