Savage Genesis, part 8

She tried to say 'hello' to Chris but it came out as a guttural unintelligible noise.

"You up for some breakfast?"

"Sure," Britney was able to force out.

Chris helped her to her feet and out to his car. The car ride was long and awkward. He had thought about taking her to a small restaurant near the station but realized that taking her to a cop hangout might not be the best option. In the end he decided that a greasy spoon a little further up the road was a much better choice. When they pulled up into the parking lot, Britney made a face. Chris stopped the car and looked over at her.

"You feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," she replied staring at the diner. He glanced at the diner and then back at Britney.

"Is this place alright?" He asked, concern deep in his voice.

Britney had eaten at that diner before with Adam. He had always loved to go to the greasiest, dingiest diners that he could. He had often joked that grease was the sixth and often over-looked part of the food group. He had found this diner and brought Britney to it when he returned.

Despite the fact that it was only his second visit, all the waitresses and people manning the grills seemed to know him. He'd stop and ask one of the waitresses how her daughter was liking college, ask the man working the cash register if he'd managed to get his washer fixed or if he just broke down and bought a new one. He seemed to really enjoy everyone there and they seemed to like him. She remembered feeling out-of-place, like an outsider brought in as part of a joke. When she thought about it now, she found it comforting. Adam was welcome here. How many people can say that?

"It's fine," she said and opened her car door. Chris followed after her. Britney had decided not to burden Chris with all this information. She thought that all he had done was been nice and supportive to her, she shouldn't burden him with all these thoughts and feelings that she had going on. To be honest, she wasn't even quite sure what she was thinking and feeling, as everything seemed to change with every passing moment. She was all jumbled up inside, like a jigsaw puzzle just waiting for someone else to figure it out.

They went inside and sat down in a booth. A waitress walked over to them, she stared at Britney for a moment as if trying to place her. She then looked over at Chris. She shook her head slightly. Britney knew that the waitress had associated her with Adam and so no longer recognized her now that she had a new guy with her. She wanted to shout out, 'you know me! I'm Adam's girl!' but felt that it was inappropriate. Maybe she wanted to be acknowledged, to feel like she was a person. You could've asked her but she wouldn't have been able to tell you herself.

"What can I get for ya?" The waitress asked as she pulled a pad of paper out from a pocket. She eyed the two, not knowing who would order first.

"Coffee. Black," Chris ordered.

"Make that two," Britney meekly chimed in. The waitress slipped the paper back in her pocket. She'd been doing this too long to need to write down when two people just wanted coffee. The waitress left and the two sat in silence for a moment. The waitress returned with two white porcelain cups full of a dark coffee.

"Thank you," Chris said and nodded to the waitress who turned and walked off.

Britney was the first one to break the awkward silence. "I didn't mean to get that drunk. I..." she trailed off.

"It's alright." Chris reached across the table and put his hand on top of Britney's. She didn't take it away despite the fact that she felt she should. She liked feeling the touch, knowing that there was someone there, someone across the table. That she wasn't alone.

"No. No, it's not. I just didn't know what else to do. You know, it would've been better if he was struck by lighting or left me for someone else. This way I don't know what happened and I'll probably never know. I just feel so trapped."

"You probably don't want to hear this but something similar happened to me once." Chris offered up. He always hated it when he wanted to grieve and someone else tried to put his grief in perspective by telling a story about themselves. It was as if they were denying him his right to grieve. So he paused for a moment to allow Britney the chance to ignore or encourage him.

"Really?" She asked. Chris was a little surprised by Britney's interest but he shouldn't have been. She desperately wanted, even needed, to have her problem put into some kind of perspective.

"Yeah. I was dating this girl. Turns out she was a spike," he stopped when he saw the questioning look in Britney's eyes. "I mean super," he corrected himself. "Spike is what we call them."

"Why a spike?" Cindy asked. She'd never heard that. Part of her was thrilled at getting a sneak peek behind the scenes, another part of her wondered if it was a rude or even obscene nickname. The type of dark humor that cops sometimes come up with mutter only among themselves in the middle of the night, far from the sensitive ears of civilians.

"There's a test to find supers. It's called and EPKG. They plug this little monitor thing on you and it prints out a line reading. If there is a spike in the reading that means the person is emitting more energy and is a super. We got to give everyone we book a EPKG to see whether or not they need to be put in a special holding cell."

"I've never heard that one."

"I don't think it's as catchy, maybe. Also, some supers don't trip the reading so it might not be so accurate."

"So who was the spike you were dating?"