Dreaded Telephony

So I called Mark Shaw last night.

I wasn't exactly sure what I was going to say to the man who's replacing me. But I'd been putting it off for far too long. So I dialed up his number (don't ask me how I got it) and waited for someone to answer.

Someone picked up right away. I knew immediately that it was Mark. He sounded drunk -- or maybe stoned. That's how I always sounded too. Back when I was hopped up on "The System."

So I cautiously explained who I was, and waited for an answer. There was a beat on the other end, and then he spoke:

"I thought you were dead."

Of course, I do get that a lot. I explained that I might have been dead, but that didn't mean I'd hung up my costume and gotten out of the vigilante business. Mark seemed skeptical, but he was willing to talk to me.

So we discussed the Order and all the horrible secrets it harbors. I won't go into any details about the horrible secrets here. Suffice to say they are secrets and they are horrible.

Anyway, we had a good chat, and I'll admit that I felt a lot better afterwards. I dropped hints that I might be interested in meeting the the current Manhunter. Sure, she's older than me, but she's a good-looking masked vigilante with a steady job who sometimes takes justice into her own hands.

And she's single.