--
The clock radio in my bedroom decided to tease me, waking me up with the same exact song I'd woken to on my very first day on Bet.
Bad Canary. Night Storm
Brockton Bay Radio Nova took up the 'Free Bird' cause with a vengeance.
A year later, I still enjoyed the song. By the time I finished my morning shower, the mammy had already gone to Arcadia. The oulfella had gone to the bar. I ate breakfast alone and basically went through all the usual steps that'd suggest an isolated, empty and unhappy home life to an outside observer.
I liked it. Less pretending. Less stress. It let me feel like something of an adult again, looking after myself. Even if I had to go to school, rather than do something useful. Wheelieing through rush-hour traffic in the morning would've been stupid dangerous for anyone else, but not for me.
I parked in my usual spot, chained to the usual rail, getting ready for a normal day. The little techniques for day-to-day survival came naturally. Small things, like doublechecking my surroundings for anyone watching before trying to take my helmet or riding gear off, or chaining the bike with my back to the wall.
I could've just fucked off and had a day of it, but I didn't. I faced Tuesday morning at Winslow High School head on. Just having the freedom to leave made choosing to stay easier.
My two biggest problems waited for my behind those iron-bar windows.
Sophia glared across the yard as I locked the bike up.
A shiver of anger rolled through my body. Did you read it yet?
Fuck’s sake. My Power gloated in the back of my mind - looming large, teasing me for not trusting it. A night’s sleep had dulled the pain of betrayal down to a dull fucking ache - but it still fucking hurt.
It stewed in the back of my mind, even if I had no idea what to actually say.
My locker waited for me. I gripped the lock on my locker door, pulling my head against the steel of the door, soaking the heat away. The parasite in my brain came off the boil.
Powers would be cool if I didn't know a thing about Powers.
My fingers drummed on the back of the metal.
Nobody online thought Damien’d done the wrong thing. Nobody online knew he’d outed me to fucking Shadow Stalker. Behind closed doors, the Protectorate machine would be cranking up. My life as it has been would come to a fucking end. My biological and cultural distinctiveness would be added to their own. My Powers would adapt to service them.
I would be assimilated.
I closed my eyes and opened the locker. A slow breath grounded the tension out. Whatever happened tomorrow - today still had to fucking happen. The sun would rise, the world would turn - it couldn’t be stopped. My eyes opened to find the expected melange of books, notepads, and lunchwrappers, crowned by a single pristine yellow post-it note.
It hadn’t been there on Friday. It hadn’t been slipped in through the vents. Either someone opened the door - or they didn’t need to.
Cold fingers crawled up my spin. I glanced back, first over my right shoulder, then my left. I grasped hold of my Power, reassuring myself
One just large enough to prove that someone had either opened the lock, or didn’t have to. It’d been written out, in rapid, scratched pen.
“Thinker 2. Tinker 1.
Meet me at the corner of Caldwell and Revere. Tomorrow. Midnight. Wear something that hides your identity.
You know who I am already.“
Fuck it anyway. My fingers crushed the paper, mushing it down into the bottom of my pocket. Fuck it all. My hand slammed the door shut.. It clattered hard like a lambeg drum, drawing a yelp from a girl walking behind me, bouncing back halfway open before I closed it again.
I marched through the corridors with a purpose, even if my brain hadn’t figured out what that purpose was.
-
I first met Madison on my third day in Brockton Bay. Her bright eyes and cheery smile still sent a thrill through my body, reminding of a summer mistake I couldn’t take back.
My breath caught in my throat, neon desire glowing inside, begging me to try again
Her dark hair shimmered as it cascaded over her shoulders, drawing my eyes down to a low cut red-t-shirt that led my gaze straight to the dark gulf between both breasts that’d been soft against my chest, then on to the full curves of her body, her hips stretching her jeans taught.
We both traded tight smiles - You remember that night too? I could still feel the ghost of her warmth in my arms.
Oh, and Emma Barnes was with her too. With rust-red hair, elegant clothes that had to be more expensive than what Madison wore, and a pus on her like her sharp nose had caught the faintest wiff of dog-shite in the air.
“Oh, it's you.”
I stood a head taller than her and she still tried to look down on me, another lust-filled insect beneath her contempt. She made a show of brushing her rust-coloured hair from her face.
“Where's Shadow Stalker?” I said, forcing eye contact.
My hands went to my pockets. Emma looked like I'd stabbed her with a live sparkplug. Madison gaped.
“How do you know that?”
Oops. My Power kept my secret. In my defence, she distracted me.
She opened with the same blister, words popping out of her mouth.
“Yeah, it's me. Where's Sophia?”
Emma sneered, “What does a thug like you want with her?”
That bit. My fist clenched and released.
“She has an assignment in with us.”
“She was here earlier,” Madison piped in with a bright smile filling her face. Emma stabbed her with a sharp look. “It's her vocational day today.”
At a guess, Ward bollocks, right? No problem.
I shot her a grin. “Thanks, Mads,”
Her giggle thrilled dragging up hot memories of summer and my first months in the Bay with her slim figure warm in my arms. We both drifted through it, sharing a smile, wondering if maybe, we said the right thing right now we could have that again in a racing heartbeat.
Her fingers grasped at the blue clips in her hair. I just had to….
Emma stewed, stepping in front of her friend, murdering the memory once and for all.
“Shouldn't you be somewhere?” she growled. “That isn't here.”
Right you are, princess. Down to business. No more reminders of the dumbest thing I ever did. Take a breath.
“If you see her,” I said, staring her down. “Tell her the answer's yes. Sophia'll know what I mean.”
Don't look at me like that. What choice do I have?
Confusion flickered across Emma's face for a single heartbeat before she caught herself. Appearances had to be kept up.
“Fine, whatever. Go away.” She prickled, spinning on her heel with a flick of her hair, throwing up the wall. Her royal highness can no longer tolerate your axe body spray.
Or the idea of being left out of the loop by her pet parahuman.
Right. That's that done. Sophia's note crumpled inside my pocket as I crossed the school. Aki'd gone to Knott's class. Taylor'd gone missing.
Sophia knew.
Armsmaster of Borg probably knew.
A letter would arrive. Or a summons to the principal’s office to be met by a sour-face Blackwell flanked by a pair of blank-face protectorate goons and a cheerful suit with a contract.
Fuck’s sake. Until then, life went on.
A hard slap to the back of the skull knocked me to the ground. I caught myself on my hands, panting. Adrenaline surged - expecting the worst. Laughter chased. A battered football landed point-first on the ground, before flopping to its side. My Power triggered.
I caught the football on the second try.
“Fucking Twice!?” My voice echoed in the corridor, pulling all eyes to me. The egg-shaped ball cannoned from my toe, tumbling through the air, clattering off a light before ricocheting to the ground in front of three people.
They still didn't have names that I knew.
It bounced into their leader's hands. I'd meant it to hit his grinning face.
The trio marched towards me. I stood my ground. They circled around. I stepped back. The crowds in the corridor watched, eager for another brawl.
“Just testing it wasn't a fluke the other day,” the leader said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Hey, Sully, right? You're sharp, could use someone like you.”
His hand right hand extended, my new best friend according the shining grin filling his round face, pink as a ham. The hair on my neck prickled. Hard eyes stared through me. My own hand went to my pocket.
“I don't do sport,”
A knuckle tap against the brace on my legs explained why.
“That's the beauty of it, Sully. The gym's got a beast of a physio, sponsored by Medhall.”
Paranoia bit deep into my back. They fucking knew. Somehow they knew. I stepped back. The noose tightened as all three stepped in, circling around. The grin broadened. My power snapped back to life.
His eyes dropped to the pocket where I held my multitool. My fingers worked the blade open, just in case. The air drew thick in around us, their bodies turning tense, pulsing with too many steroids. Behind the smile, I saw his mind work, his free hand clawed over his own pocket, ready to draw.
The other two probably did the same. I didn't dare break eye contact to check.
I get him. His friend gets me. My Power gives me the edge.
The smile remained. Savage, daring me to fight, to give them a reason. He made a show of leaning forward, to share some hidden secret, staying just far enough away to dodge if I took a swing.
My hand gripped tight, blood coming up to the boil. My Power pulsed in my ears, winding itself up.
“You're still kinda new here, so you probably don't know it yet. But this is the kinda city where being in with the right crowd can really open a lot of doors.” His voice oozed from his lips, slick as a salesman. That right hand still hung there, waiting for me to grasp. “Especially if you get in early.”
Just take the hand. Be friends. Join the team. Have a lot of fun being a part of something. Life gets easier when you stand together. And we all pull together, marching to the future. Become part of something bigger. See those slant-eyed fuck's over there? They're hurting your new mate Jimmy here, the same guy who helped you out last night. Here's a gun. Stop 'em.
Two words came to mind. My fingers clenched tight on the handle, ready to back them up. Drumbeats thrummed in my ears, drowning out the little voice of sanity that begged me to slip out of the noose.
The world beyond crushed down to nothing, the trio and me spotlighted on the stage. I had to act. I had to do something.
Two stood behind me, beyond arm's reach. A snap of a glance told me they had weight and size on their side, a year older than me at least a year. One with a broad face a heavy gut and sunken eyes – the same guy who'd won a spelling competition a few months back. The other, thinner, with bony cheeks. He had a hand in his pocket too. All three wore the same orange jersey.
Sponsored by Medhall.
“So, what do you say, brother?” His eye winked. His free hand hovered. His other held behind his back.
I'd be a fucking moron if some traitorous part of my mind didn't wonder if it'd make life easier for the bar. Heil a little. March a little. Pay lip service. Like going to Mass. You didn't have to give a fuck about God, just play along like the rest to keep up appearances, be part of the community, well respected in the village.
Get a nice Germanic cape name when Kaiser figured me out...Schroedinger or something. Sure, didn’t Hitler have an Irish cousin?
The bubble in my brain burst. Clarity crashed back. Five better words followed.
“I got shit to do.”
Nobody questioned it. Everybody saved face since everyone had shit to do. Two quick steps took me through a gap between them, walking away.
Just like that.
I tackled a problem like a sane and normal person, walked away, and felt bloody good about it too. My hand still clutched the tool in my pocket, in case they changed their minds. They talked as I Ieft.
“Told you the Mick wouldn't go for it.”
“Yeah, but you see what he did to that slope last year?”
So that's why. You break one scumbag's skull and nobody ever forgets.
Adrenaline drove my body along in high gear all the way to morning physics class, burning for action. A fourteen hour day stood between me and the traditional 'First Night Out'. My mind spun through ideas, sketching things out in my copybook when I should've been drawing up experiments.
A shadow loomed over.
I looked up to be assaulted by the image of the absent minded professor with the scraggling beard formed from tangled hair the colour of an Irish summer sky.
“What's this?”
“Electrical circuit,” I answered.
Just drop it. He picked it up instead, grabbing the notebook without even asking. Nope. You're just a fucking kid. Nothing more. I'll do what I goddamned want in here in my own little domain.
“And the calculations?” He pushed, skimming through them, sketches of circuit diagrams and ideas. He leafed through the numbers, a page or two of calculations scribbled and scratched out before I remembered how to do it right. Of all the people who might have an idea, who might call the police.
Then came the questions. Then came the offer. What the fuck do I have to be the one the administration of Winslow gives a bollocks about?
Why not someone who actually needs it?
He eyed me up, grey eyes looking down on me through thick spectacles. “Dwell time on an inductance as function of the capacitance, am I right? Cycle time? What's this supposed to be? A weapon?”
The engineers among you can guess what I'm doing.
Trying not to laugh, for a start.
“Trying to build something for my da's bar. It's a level sensor.”
I lied through my teeth and dared him to call me on it. I could see the thought go through his mind. Why so much voltage for a level sensor?
Don't worry, I had an answer for that. I had my Power. I had my way through.
The notepad dropped to my desk with a crack
“Well. At least try and give me the illusion of paying attention. And remember, unfortunately you're graded on your ability to remember this curriculum, not how to put any of this to any practical use in the real world.”
He concluded I wasn't worth the effort.
Thankfully.
Another morning class dragged itself out into hours, my mind screaming along with the accelerator pinned to the floor. No second thoughts. Not one step back. The elastic in my brain cut and all the pent up energy and tension snapped into action.
Nobody told me to stop. Nobody cared. Girls babbled. Greg talked at Julia about Star Trek The school walls greyed out. The world outside the barred windows rolled on, shining with colour.
Lunchtime arrived.
Nothing happened.
The note turned over in my fingers. Twelve hours until the cape went on and I couldn't think of anything else. It ballooned inside my skull, squeezing the world out.
Thinker 2. Tinker 1.
Fuck’s sake
I tried to sort my feelings out, but I couldn’t. Anger, frustration, excitement - a twinge of neon lust and a pang of betrayal warred inside me, crashing and crunching together into an emotional mulch
“Hey, man, what's up?” said Damo
If my mouth hadn’t been full of mystery meat I might’ve said something both of us regretted. I looked up at him, glaring back while I chewed. I fished the note from my pocket, put it on the table, and slid it over to him
“What?”
I swallowed. The mystery meat stuck in my throat for a second, demanding a second gulp before I could speak.
“That was in my locker this morning,” I said.
He picked it up. He unfurled it in his hands.. The colour drained from his face as he read it. He looked at me
“I’m fucked,”I said.
The words settled in the air between us. He looked at the note. He looked at me. I waited for him to say something, afraid of what I might say if the space between us didn’t get filled.
“Sorry man. I just wanted to help,”
The wrong thing. For the Right reasons. The weight of it settled on my shoulders. My life had already ended. I’d become a walking ghost.
“Mate, you just summed up a million words,”
He settled back into his chair, drawing a slow, uneasy breath. His eyes scanned the room around him, stopping at each table, and each little clique in turn. They ignored us as they usually did
“How’d they know?”
My Power squirmed, spinning in place with nothing to do. It couldn’t change what’d happened last night, no matter how much I wanted it to. It pressed on the inside of my skull, pulsing, begging for a chance.
It gave me the chance to tell him
“Sophia Hess is Shadow Stalker,”
Obviously. The tone of my voice cut deeper than I meant. The look of shock on his face passed in a moment
“Oh. Shit,” he breathed. He fucked up. He knew. It stabbed him right to the chest. That's all the mattered. Now move on and get the fuck over it. The benefit of being an adult stuck in a teenager's body – sometimes I could almost make a passable impression of being a sensible human being.
His head napped around, snatching at glance at Emma as she came through the doors, then back to me.
“She's calling you out?”
“I don't know,”I said, scratching at my lunch with a plastic spork. “I'll figure it out when I get there.”
Alright, and sometimes the impression fell apart.
“You're actually going?” He blinked. “It's probably a trap y'know.”
He stabbed a slab of mystery-'meet' with his spork to make the point.
“It probably is.” I gave a gallic shrug. Like those guys at Chernobyl, ordered to go flood the reactor with water. Either they went, and found it was still there and they had to fix it, or they were already fucking dead and didn’t know it yet and getting a face full of nuclear reactor wouldn’t change that.
“Yeah,” Damien continued.” She's a complete power-tripper. She'll pin you down as the new villain on the block just to prove she can.”
Yep.
“But I know her weakness.”
“Water?” he snorted.
“Electricity.” I grinned. “And I'm pretty good with the canned Thor.”
“It's still fucking retarded when she has the backing of an entire organisation of heroes and the rule of law behind her. Between the Nazi's, the Asians, the Merchants – the most dangerous gang in this city is still the cops y'know.”
“We have evidence.” I took a bite, hoping he'd drop it.
“The school had evidence.” he pushed, pointing a finger right at me.
A spark flickered in my mind. Finally, a reason, something good enough to justify to the rationalist weirdos out there. Hah! I have a reason for doing this. You can't disagree with it.
“She's a power tripper, right? She'll do what she has to do to force me into it. At least I can go on my terms rather than being bounced into it.”
Click. Another landmine realisation. Yep, you're fair game too y'know. She'll get to me through you. She'll do anything to you just to force me to fight.
I hated the look in his eyes. My Power had been right all along. Bloody idiot. My power crackled in the back of my mind, giggling to itself. Either I could go with the argument that shut him up and made him feel like shit, or I could get proved wrong.
Maybe? Maybe not? Maybe he needs to know anyway?
Fifteen seconds passed.
I ached to undo it, to make it go away. Sorry, too late. This ride's departed. Sit back. Enjoy. This happened because you wanted it to happen. My Power gloated at me. This is what happens when you ignore me. This is how bad it feels.
“Aki needs to know.,” he said.
Shit, I forgot about that.
I regretted everything.
I regretted telling Damien about my power. I regretted not telling him sooner. I regretted getting involved by picking Taylor up. I regretted not doing it sooner. I regretted jumping….
I couldn’t do anything about it
--
Dancing with the sausage creature through Brockton Bay's rush hour traffic blew off the stress of the day, my power keeping me one step ahead of the monster's mangled, moaning grasp.
Damien lived two streets over from Taylor - to the point where I passed her house on the way to his. I could’ve passed her home a dozen times and never noticed. The whole area had been built at the same time - a company town for the dockers financed by brazen new money long since spent.
Timber-framed houses styled like miniature second empire mansions lined streets with names Lord Street and Albert Square. The names on the signs glorified the guilded families who’d once owned half the city.
A hard century had taken the paint off most of the houses, and the rooves off some. A few had been boarded up.
Damien’s house stood behind a waist-high rusted chainlink fence on the corner between two streets. A formerly blue Pontiac sat where the lawn should’ve been, the sea air inexorably returning it to the earth from where it came. A plastic Saturn pickup waited in the drive, faded and cracked but still running.
I parked my bike behind a coal-bunker where it wouldn’t be seen from the road, chaining it to a water pipe. Akiko’s bicycle already waited, chained to a gas-main.
I could trust Aki, and wake up Asian. I could let her swing in the breeze and…. I couldn’t think of any reason why not. It seemed the logical thing to do - the cold-minded solution. Aki had joined the gang, of course she’d be loyal to it.
I choose to trust her - doing anything different just didn’t feel right. Better to hang together, than hang separately. At least I’d have company on the gallows.
My body ached to run. I sat back on the Honda’s saddle for a second, only to remind myself that I could still go anytime. I didn’t have to face them both with my terrible secret.
I chose to do it anyway.
I pushed the doorbell. It didn’t ring. I gave the timber door three sharp knocks with the plastic armour on my knuckles. Footsteps beyond counted down to my doom as they approached. My Power loomed again in my mind, reminding me I had the chance to take it back. It wound itself in knots in the back of my mind, begging me to trigger it
Three locks latched, counting down. The door hinged open with a horror-show creak
“Finally got released?” asked Damien, making a point to look behind me.
“Der Grammerfuehrer was late.”
“Aki’s in my room upstairs,”
The house had the smell of heat and moisture, iron radiators hissing, crackling and sizzling with raw heat. Timber floorboards creaked underfoot. Gaslights refitted with electric bulbs cast warm light on a century of family photographs on the varnished timber wall. A photo of his mam sat above a box of brass medals, and a framed, folded American flag.
We all had our own crosses, I guess.
I preferred the house to our apartment. The warmth of a true home enveloped like a blanket as I followed him up creaking timber stairs. Decades of feet had had worn the edges of each step smooth.
Damien’s room waited right at the top of the stairs, inside what used to be an attic. The door opened to the smell of feet, knockoff Tomahawk body spray and hot metal.
His bed lived against one timber partition wall, with its own dedicated radiator. A small desk was piled with schoolbooks, comics and sketchbooks. A dozen posters drawn from films that everyone but me knew had been pasted across the walls.
And old television sat in the corner, perched on a stack of hardback books. Cables trailed from it to an Atari. Akiko sat beside it, snuggled in a well worn beanbag, gazing down
“We’re ready,” said Damien.
He sat himself on the edge of his bed. I took a comfortable looking space on the floor close to the radiator to soak in the heat.
“So what is so important?” said Aki. Her eyes moved from Damien to me, looking for a reason why her afternoon had been interrupted.
For a moment, neither of us knew how to answer the question. My hand found a ten cent coin in my pocket. I rolled it between my fin
“Heads,” I said, and flicked the coin
I caught it in one hand and showed her. Heads.
“Is that it,”?
I gave her a wan smile, and made my second attempt. Then a third.
She saw me flip a coin ten times, and call the result each time. I watched her gaze morph from mildly annoyed, to an intense, staring curiosityt.
Well. Here goes. Aki stared, eyes begging for information
She smirked. “It is a dummy. A fake coin.”
Damien’s expression remain flat. She looked to me, still waiting for the punchline.
“No,” I shook my head. I took a breath to force down the lump in my throat. “I’ve a Power,” I told her. “My Power lets me succeed at things.”
Disbelief stared back at me. My mouth went dry.
“Usotsuki..” she whispered.
Silence. she stared. Around, the room shrunk back, retreating into the void beyond my mind. My power thrummed, throbbing in the back of my skull, begging to fire, begging for me to laugh it off as a joke
No. I want to tell them. I really do. Akiko needs to know.
Something inside burst, a hot liquid pop in the back of my neck that seeped down the inside of spine. Time ticked forward, past the point of no return. The pressure released, leaving my sitting, slack-jawed struggling to find the right words.
You're on your own now, mate. You didn't listen to me, now look. This is all your fault.
“No. I amn’t” I breathed.
Aki sat in her chair, looking like she'd taken a wet fish to the face.
What happens now? I wondered. No sympathy for the devil, I guess. At least I made my choice.
“How?” Aki breathed, leaning towards me “How did it happen?”
And I knew what she meant too. Dwelling pulled my head into that space again.
Falling.
Tumbling.
Accelerating.
Regretting.
Trigger.
The Power thrilled in the back of my mind, resonating in the instant. Cold fingers of death crawled over my body, room revolving around as my mind tumbled through the moment.
I caught myself. Yeah, I did that. No need for a long story. No need for the lead up. Just the simple facts, to save my own sanity.
“I got into a bad place. I jumped off a building. Halfway down I regretted it. My Power triggered.”
She inhaled through a half open mouth, placing her hands on her lap. Her fingers grasped.
“Fuck,” Damien spat, sending a shock through the room.“If I knew I shouldn't have let them talk me out of it.”
The grin he wore on his thin face ate shit for breakfast, dinner and tea.
I laughed. Damien laughed. Aki didn’t. She sat there, lips moving as she tried a few syllables on for size, but found nothing that fit.
“What?” I asked.
“That...... is that what it takes?”
I nodded. “It happens when you're just so fucked up, when you're panicking, you're trapped and you just can't find a way out, eventually it just breaks through and you trigger.”
“So....”She inhaled.“How is that even fair!” Her voice rang back off the walls as she jumped to her feet. The chair clattered over onto its side. I pulled myself up against the drawers. She stepped forward. “After all.... after everything and you get a Power and what happens to me?” she jabbed herself in the chest with her finger.“What makes you so different?”
Dumb. Fucking. Luck.
I used my Power to cheat her out of the truth. Again.
Again, she asked me what it took.
I looked away from her, at the bandages on my arm, still feeling the echo of the moment. “I don't know really.”
I couldn’t tell if I felt worse for lying, but I didn’t feel better. It sat like a rat heavy on my shoulders, gnawing at the back of neck, urging me to tell the truth anyway.
“What else?”
Of course she could read the moment.
My power returned, charging through my brain, reminding me I could end the moment anytime I wanted. Go back, try a different route maybe just leave it with a demonstration..
No - no going back. I just needed to figure out how to drop the next mountain on her.
Damien made the choice for me. “Shadow Stalker knows who he is,” he blurted out. He sucked on his lower lip “Because Sophia Hess is Shadow Stalker and she recognised a post I made last night.”
Something tickled the back of my skull, a sensation like hair crawling over my brain. Aki’s face looked for a moment like something had broken inside her, her eyes glassing over as her open mouth struggled to find the words to fill it. Her breath shook, her hands clawed in front of her.
She looked at me, she looked at Damien. She looked ready to burst out of her skin and scream.
The room grew pregnant, waiting for something to happen. We all looked at each other, hoping someone else would fill the silence.
“So na...” Aki slumped into her chair, energy draining from her body.
Job done.
She sat there processing, looking like her whole world had collapsed down around her.
I hated that look with every fibre in my body. My power triggered and the universe folded back over itself in an eye-blink.
“What else,” Akiko asked, again.
I let Damien explain, again.
Her reaction didn’t change.
My Power activated for a second time, letting me run through it once more, dangling the possibility of another way, another answer
On the third run through, I tried to speak. I failed to find any other words.
And on the fourth, the fifth and sixth.
Finally, I resigned myself to it, staring at my boots while everything played out exactly as it did the first time around. Except I didn’t look at her face. I didn’t look at anything. I let the moment pass staring at the floor while my Power spun its wheels in my brain.
A cold draught of air snapped me out of it, the night breeze pulling at the curtains. Aki's beanbag sat empty. A pair of french doors leading out onto the balcony, creaked in the breeze.
“Shit,” I snarled. A dreadful thought rang in my mind. I rolled to my feet, racing through the curtains after her. She already stood by the railing, looking out over the glittering city below, her body rigid with tension, arms locked supporting her against the metal.
“Hey wait!” I yelped.
Her body spasmed, her head snapping around to face me
“I...” she gasped. She looked out over the rail.“You thought I was going to!”
“Well...” I felt my cheeks flush.
In fairness, given the tone of the conversation....
“Thanks,” she gave me a warm smile.“Anyway.”
“Anyway?” I stepped forward.
“I just wanted to think,” she said, letting the rail take her body weight.“What could I do with a Power?”
I leaned back against the cold iron, feeling it soak the heat of the moment out of my back. I thought for a second
“And Power......” I stumbled over my own tongue, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. I looked up at her, not obviously listening to me. “A Power doesn't make the problem go away it just. It gets you out of the moment.” The words came to me a moment later.“ But It doesn't actually solve the problem.”
My thanks to the Word of God for that one. My Power hummed along, reminding me I could push it a little further.... maybe explain myself better. I had a way out if I fucked it up again.
It gave me the nerve to look her in the eye and say what I really meant.
“My Power saved me from the jump sure, but everything that brought me up to the roof – it didn't do a damn thing about it.” I looked down, pursing my lips for a moment, before feeling myself smile as the words came on their own. “The last six months helped me deal with that.”
A faint smile showed she'd grasped the implication. Never let anyone say I didn't mean it either. My Power kept my body from splattering on the concrete, but it didn't save my life.
“I...” She started. Her expression darkened into a frustrated scowl.“English is a poor language.”
I snorted. She smiled. Our eyes met. Something sparked in the moment. It died as she looked away over the city, leaving a vague emptiness behind. Nothing would happen.
“One day this city will wash away too. And we will be free again.” she said, staring into the night. “We have learned to swim.”
I wondered how she knew. Then I realised what she meant.
We'd both reached that parapet moment, herded to the point where we had no other option but to jump. We both had our one bad day. A Power beyond our own reached down, with an offer neither of us could refuse.
And we both had a price to pay our deal on Chickasaw mountain.
------------------------
I made it home just in time to meet the Mammy introducing Missus Freeman from upstairs to the very Irish concept of ‘The Notions.’ With the pair deep in conversation, I thought I could make it to the safety of my room
A bark from Archie ruined my chances.
Both pairs of eyes locked onto me.
“And what time is this?” The mammy’s voice cut. “Any longer and the dinner would’ve been in the dog.”
The dog, of course, looked up at me with his bright brown eyes. Of he course he’d betray me - I’d cost him a fancy meal.
I triggered my power, folding back in time to the moment before I opened the door. I’d a pack of M&M’s in my pocket - one or two would be enough to keep him quiet without making him sick.
My hand pushed the door open a second time. The Mammy and Missus Freeman continued their discussion on Notions and ‘The Crab Bucket’. A pair of sweets satisfied the dog, and I slipped into my room unnoticed.
I finished my dinner.
I finished my homework.
I finished my work at the bar as I normally did
I cashed out my Reno Online account.
I needed money. My power helped. So long as I kept it to a limit to fly under the radar, or got into a lobby with a good mix of Bingo players, I could get my own pocket money.
---
The school hustle swept me along to my first class of the morning, mind drifting elsewhere.
The mill cranked on, running on automatic. Assignments made it to where they needed to go. Payments were taken.
Life continued, oblivious to the future. I followed, unable to stop thinking about it.
It seemed ridiculous - to be carrying on the charade of a normal life when later that night, I’d be putting on a costume and heading out into the night.
Industrial Arts gave me a chance to tinker in the old fashioned way, getting up to my elbows in the classroom machinery, before heading into lunch smelling of machine oil and teen spirit.
My skin crawled as I turned a corner, touched by feeling that someone, somewhere watched. I stopped, my head snapping around. Nothing beyond the usual mill of teenagers pushing past each other, cliques huddling in their own corners. The Serengeti continued as usual.
Ever see those African nature documentaries where the solitary gazelle is standing in the grass. The camera sees the lion sneaking up, and the Gazelle smells the bastard sneaking up, but for the life of him he just can't see where the attack is about to come?
Somewhere upwind maybe?
My Power sparked into life, tingling at the tips of my fingers, ready to go, ready to fire, ready to give that little bit of an edge that made the difference.
You can fight, it assured.
I stood there, wound up and ready to spring, body burning for action.
Nothing happened.
Not a thing.
Fuck you Shadow Stalker and your fucking paranoia. The energy dumped through my first through someone's locker door. The haze cleared, my surroundings filtering into my mind.
Four Nazis. Five Asians. A thinning crowd in the corridor. My subconscious had just beaten my conscious mind to the realisation.
I raced on to the canteen, stabbed by a sudden pang of hunger. A few scavenged cartons of Froot Joose joined the school-issue meal. Compressed pea-fibre, breadcrumbs, chicken-skin shreddings, deep fried yellow-dyed flour sticks and 'brown sauce'.
Yum.
I took a seat at our corner table, opposite Akiko. She didn't even look up from her tray, hunching over it until every last stain of food had been removed.
We both shared that tendency. We both had the same teacher. She just took that lesson to its logical conclusion, doing what she had to do to get away from Sophia.
You can say 'Fuck the bitch' all you want. I couldn't. We're still friends, after all.
Damo dropped into the seat beside me, slapping his tray onto the table. The other two had decided to eat out somewhere or something leaving it up to us three. A finger of chicken rolled free, bouncing on the floor before settling against the wall.
Aki' watched it roll, waiting for him to pick it up.
She frowned as he stabbed another with his fork instead. “Mouttai nai”
“Five second rule,” he shrugged, swallowing the next finger whole. He shuddered as it oozed down his throat. Hunger proved a better sauce than Frank's.
I looked at her with a smirk on my lips. Don't worry, he'll learn soon enough. Four weeks to go. She scratched at her neck for a second, settling herself back into her chair
“So Ieba,” She began. “I had a thought last night.”
Aki pulled a single jump drive from her pocket, placing it on the table in front of her.
“Just one?” Damien poked.
She scowled at him, flashing a middle finger. He smirked, chomping a spork full of chips. Somehow, it felt just a little hollow.
After a few moments, her smirk returned. “Maybe we don’t need to out-fight Shadow Stalker.”
--
I had a shopping list – capacitors, coils, contactor blocks, and some cable, among other things. In another world, Homeland Security hellfire drones would be winging their way to my neighbour's house as I searched. In Brockton Bay, you could buy anything at the Market without even raising so much as an eyebrow.
This world might be worth saving after all.
Someone explain to me how the world with Endbringers, Parahumans, Murderhobos Ashbeasts and Sleeper could, in some bent and fucked up way, seem more rational and less insane than mine.
“It's right back this way,” Aki beckoned us through the crowds, snapping me out of it.
“You sure this is OK?” Damien looked at the group of men standing beside one of the stalls selling katsu curry chicken and ramen. My mouth watered at the scent. It took me a few moments longer to spot their shirts.
Even in the market, the gangs lurked.
They eyeballed all three of us as we walked pass. My skin prickled.
“My Father knew Mister Ishimori in Nagasaki. He ran an electronics shop. I'll speak for you.”
Aki led on. It's OK. I won't betray you. The idea simmered in the back of my mind, my hand never far from my tool.
My multitool you feckless rogues.
Okay, I'll admit I did have a bit of a thing for the denim skirt and zettai ryouki look she had going, especially with the black jacket hanging open to a taught green t-shirt.
She led us to a stand under a green awning.
“This is a bad idea...” he said, into my ear. “You know....”
“Yeah. I figured it out.”
He seemed to relax.
“Besides. We've an advantage,” I added, with a smirk
His hand clutched tight around a new tazer in his pocket. Thanks for the vote of confidence.
Aki led us to a stand built around a dozen plastic bins filled with meticulously ordered electronic components. Not just capacitors, but whole phone PCB's, screens, batteries, chargers – a real Tinker's paradise.
Behind, a short, man in round shape, with bowl-cut black-hair and square-lensed glasses waited, the edge of his lips curling up.
So, definitely not going to overcharge me then.
“I will talk,” aid Aki, stepping in front.
It's one thing to hear her speak with the softest hint of a Japanese accent in English, but an entirely different thing altogether to hear her go full bore in her native language. Her voice threw off the shackles of an imposed tongue, mutating her into a new person. Stronger, harder, more direct, speaking her true mind.
“Holy shit,” said Damien, under his breath.
I thought the same, but not in so many words.
Aki stopped. The stall owner gazed at me, reading my mind. I met his gaze.
He gave me one and two fingers instead.
“Sen Ni-hyaku dollar.”
He answered in Japanese to keep me from arguing, and I knew it. His pronunciation of 'dollar' proved it. Guess he expected an ordinary American, unaware that a world existed beyond the two shining seas, and not a recovering weaboo who picked holiday destinations solely because his favourite anime had been set there. Aki opened her mouth to translate. I cut her off.
“Sen Dollar...”
They were the first numbers I thought of. I think it was a flat thousand. The look of surprise on his face made it worth the effort. Yeah, I understood you.
“Sen Hyaku.”
“Deal.”
I offered a handshake. He sucked a breath through his teeth. My hand pulled my wallet from my pocket. Damien's eyes saucered as I counted out the money.
Yeah.
For my troubles I became the proud owner of a duct-tape-wrapped box of potentially stolen electronics. A late night's work could turn it into something....useful.
Damien watched me slip my wallet back into my jeans pocket, his hand still resting on the bulge in his jacket. He didn't ask the question. I didn't answer it either.
Akiko bubbled her thanks to the stall owner, earning a warm thanks in return.
“So, half price, like I promise.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Anything for a friend.” She said it with a smile.
Paranoia bit deep in the pit of my stomach. Maybe she had another motive? I forced myself to trust her – against my better judgement, or against the whining of my backseat passenger, I'll leave that up to you.
Aki dived deep into bins of old computer parts, scavenging. Damien pecked at the pirate video nasties, lifting them from their racks, before slipping them back into place. I itched to go home and get working, my palms prickling with sweat.
Slow, deep breaths cooled my head. It didn't stop me from fidgeting when we found a spare park bench to sit and eat dinner. For the first time in months, I found it hard to eat.
“For once you aren't hungry.?
“It's six hours to my first cape-fight against an experienced ward.”
Some encouragement would've been nice.
“You don't trust my plan?”
Sorry, Aki.
“I don't trust any plan that involves me being the only one risking my bollocks.”
And I amn't about to jinx it by telling you what it is, either.
Damien chuckled. “My dad served as a REMF in 'nam. It's the family tradition.”
“The fuck is a REMF?”
“A rear echelon motherfucker,” he answered.“Smart enough to keep around on base while the grunts go out in the shit.”
“Someone has to run the server,” said Akiko.
“And the other two have shit to do.” I groused.
“Dude, you got the Power,” he said. “Besides, if she beats your ass, she won't have any reason to bother us anymore. That's why you're doing this, remember?”
Hoisted by my own petard. Fuck sake.
“This whole situation's fucked up.”
“Not my fault.”
“Nobody's fault,” I said. Technically mine for not telling Hess to fuck off, but so it goes. Technically his for blowing my cover, but so it goes. Nothing could change what happened now.
Damien's gaze accused. “We got no choice but to stick together,” he said.
Nobody said much after that. Reality bit down hard.
Steel coloured clouds hung overhead, pressing us down. Only Akiko really ate, but even she just picked at things. A bite here, a bite there, but nothing more. Half a box of chicken went into nearest bin, food for the homeless or the seagulls.
We walked together to the bus, kicking at stones and cans.
The spark had gone, Damien said it. The silence proved it. Not today, not tomorrow but soon enough. We'd fall apart, going our separate ways over time until eventually, without realising it, we'd stopped being friends and just become people we used to know. Or I got burned, birdcaged or broken by the PRT PR department.
Fuck. I kicked a stone into the road, bouncing it off someone's parked Buick.
“It might've been easier if I hadn't told anyone.”
They both looked at me. Aki shrugged.
“You want to know what?” said Damien, sitting on the bustop bench supporting himself with his elbows on his knees. He looked down at the tarmac before looking up at me. “You know what I thought when you told me?”
I pushed forward, looking out into the street, rather than right at him. “I'm scared to know.”
My Power rose to the surface. I made it wait.
“I thought, if I had Powers, at least I know I'd have a certain job. Isn't that weird?”
Aki watched, leant against the bus-stop with her legs crossed, making a show of obviously not listening, just as I obviously didn't appreciate how cute she could be in a denim miniskirt with thigh-hugging dark tights.
“Well...” pushed Damien.
“I think you just made the best argument ever for joining the Protectorate,” I said, with a shrug.
“So why have you not done that yet?”
“It'd be a job for life sure, but.........”
The laughter started. What I’m about to say. What I’m about to do. Fighting Wards and Endbringers. A job for life, sure.
“What's so funny,” she asked.
“Nothing, really.”
Well. Maybe not entirely poisoned.
I'd end up a Ward, probably. But I'd go kicking and screaming the whole way in.
--
My bedroom stank of hot electronics, sweaty teenager, wet dog and cold stew.
I sat on my bed, all fingers and thumbs trying to get the last few cable connections to mate. Wiring things up to work on a bench, that’s easy. Wiring things to work as part of clothing that has to be taken on, taken off, and tolerate being bounced around in a fight, that’s hard.
Doing that and having it all work first time?
Maybe I did earn a Tinker rating.
I knew how to build it, even if I couldn’t always translate that to my fingertips.
Aki clattered away at her laptop – a sleek black model set up beside my clunky desktop - making a desperate attempt to ignore the dog snuffling at her feet, hungry for the dregs in the bowl.
Archie yapped for attention. Aki bolted rigid in her seat, staring at the dog, tethered to the desk by a static-strap, pinned by a locked door, with no option but a bloody fight to the death against razor-sharp fangs, gleaming for blood.
[Destination?]
[Agreement]
[Infestation?]
[Agreement]
[Insinuation?]
[Nah Fuck it. Couldn’t be arsed.... ]
An open door and a stomp of a boot on the floor encouraged the mutt out before trigger warning turned into Trigger Event. Probably not.
Never, I hope.
“Thank you,” she breathed, grounding the panic through the desk.
Damien watched, sitting with his back against the window at the other end of the room, glancing at us both, looking like the lost orphan that didn’t get let in on the joke.
Don’t worry, you’ll get it soon enough if you stick around.
“Is it ready?” he asked.
“Unh,” Akiko nodded, remembering herself. “I need to test it first. You mind, Ian?”
In my hands, I held a half finished helmet, fitted with a pair of goggles. Cables trailed from the helmet to a plastic box the size of a deck of cards containing a single PCB, with a power supply taped beneath it.
Without thinking, I flicked the switched. A sharp crack and the acrid scent of escaping blue smoke left me sitting dumb for a moment, wondering what’d happened
Two pairs of eyes stared at me. You didn’t just blow that, did you? Knowing I had a Power that helped what that sort of shit brought out the biggest pair of shit-eating grins I’d ever seen.
My Power spared a few hundred dollars worth of mobile phone motherboard from dying a second time. I’d forgotten to adjust the power supply to something the board could swallow.
A turn of a screw, a flick of a switch and white light shone up from the remnants of the keypad.
“It lives!” I hissed between my teeth, looming over the board.
Aki giggled. She got it. Programmer or engineer – that Frankenstein moment when the system finally came to life and became a working thing always thrilled. The spark of creation, the engine of innovation.
The culmination of the Tao of Scotty.
A screen suspended over one of the goggle lenses turned opaque white. Another one set into the left glove beside the keypad showed the Nokia logo. Chimes tingled in the earpiece inside the helmet. Cables ran to a mic inside the facemask, another hidden in one of the filters, just beneath the surface. A tan ribbon led down from the phone’s camera desoldered, re-cabled, then tucked in behind the other lens.
Care to guess what’s been planned yet?
“Ready to test the uplink?” Aki asked, bubbling in her chair.
“We have about four gig on the sim, right?”
“Unh,” she nodded. “4 hours at that bitrate.”
“Right, right.”
Load the program. Log in to a brand new Streamster account, broadcast, then wait. A black screen showed on Aki’s computer, waiting for the livestream.
“Signal in here’s shite,” I murmured, checking the display. 1 Bar. Maybe.
The laptop echoed my words, chattering blocks of colour coalescing into a choppy video filled with glaring lights and a Japanese girl with her jaw hanging open, gazing at herself onscreen, gazing at herself onscreen.
“Yatta! It works! I am so Leet!”
The dog answered from outside with a bark. A spasm bolted through her body, stunning her enthusiasm dead.
Damien sat up. “It actually worked?”
“Oh ye of little faith,” I said with a grin, aiming the helmet at him.
He shielded his face with his elbow. “Dude, no.”
The alarm on my watch chimed. One hour to midnight.
Nobody said a word. We traded glances, waiting for the silence to break. Something that’d almost started as a game just transformed into something real, exceeding our minds, becoming something solid.
I am really going out there, in costume, to fight against a fucking Ward with a no-holds-barred brand and the attitude to back it up.
Every muscle in my body begged to go. Every shred of common sense begged me to stop. My heart drummed in my chest, driving me forward.
This could end so badly and I knew it. It hurt to know it.
To see it coming.
I couldn’t stop myself.
What would they think if I stopped now? When happens when Sophia tries to push me into it? A thousand and one justifications rushed forward and smothered my qualms, leaving them writhing in the pit of my stomach.
Did Taylor feel like this?
Did anyone?
Banging like a hammer in my head, begging me to go.
“Let’s do it.”
“Man,” Damien breathed, face turning pale. “Whatever happens out there. Good Luck.”
“Thanks.”
Aiko said nothing, the expression on her face a confused muddle of pain and concern, and relief that she got to be the one safe at home.
We snuck passed the mammy, carrying everything in sports bags to the lift. Nobody said a word on the ride up.
Cold air greeted on the roof, the Brockton night crisp and fresh. My mind rolled through the last time I’d been up there – the night I got my Power.
That falling sensation rushed up, roaring in my ears, my Power thrilling in the back of my mind.
No. No backing down. No cold feet. This is happening.
My riding leathers made a good base, something lightweight and flexible, that could take a beating, tolerate a hard landing and, most importantly, zip together to keep bugs out. A kevlar military helmet with an added flare at the neck kept my head safe. A green poncho would keep the water off the power boxes. Sorting out the manoeuvre gear took longer, getting it properly balanced, strapped up and ready to run. Two fresh batteries brought it to life for the first time in months. Relays chattered. Motors whined. The display in the lens came to life, overlaying the world with white terminator-text before settling on a chat window.
Both blades touched. Lightning arc’d, shedding firefly sparks from the steel. The scent of rust and ozone filtered through the mask, battery gauges on my glove twitching.
Hot energy flooded my body a kick of adrenaline snapping me wide awake as I nestled my helmet into place. They spoke, I answered on autopilot, not really minding. I forgot what they said a moment later, washed from my mind.
A hundred visions ran through my mind of how this could go. Most ended badly. It’d hurt sure, but I’d win tomorrow.
Akiko snapped a photograph, showing it to me.
Hands on both triggers, blunt blades locked into the trigger handles, cables running to the harness under the poncho.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
That's me. That's who I am. That's a real fucking cape in the picture and not some moron in riding leathers with a half-assed cosplay.
I am not a pretender.
I transformed. In a real, tangible way, I became something else.
Not a costume.
Not a congoer.
But a genuine cape.
For better or worse.
Whatever happens, at least I can say I did it.
All I had to do was step up to the parapet, and jump. My Power would help me figure out the rest along the way.
When Jack Slash is dead at my feet and I'm barking orders at a traumatised Bonesaw while taking my rightful and bloody place as the new leader of the Slaughterhouse 9, you can look back at this moment and go 'heh'.
--
The clock radio in my bedroom decided to tease me, waking me up with the same exact song I'd woken to on my very first day on Bet.
Bad Canary. Night Storm
Brockton Bay Radio Nova took up the 'Free Bird' cause with a vengeance.
A year later, I still enjoyed the song. By the time I finished my morning shower, the mammy had already gone to Arcadia. The oulfella had gone to the bar. I ate breakfast alone and basically went through all the usual steps that'd suggest an isolated, empty and unhappy home life to an outside observer.
I liked it. Less pretending. Less stress. It let me feel like something of an adult again, looking after myself. Even if I had to go to school, rather than do something useful. Wheelieing through rush-hour traffic in the morning would've been stupid dangerous for anyone else, but not for me.
I parked in my usual spot, chained to the usual rail, getting ready for a normal day. The little techniques for day-to-day survival came naturally. Small things, like doublechecking my surroundings for anyone watching before trying to take my helmet or riding gear off, or chaining the bike with my back to the wall.
I could've just fucked off and had a day of it, but I didn't. I faced Tuesday morning at Winslow High School head on. Just having the freedom to leave made choosing to stay easier.
My two biggest problems waited for my behind those iron-bar windows.
Sophia glared across the yard as I locked the bike up.
A shiver of anger rolled through my body. Did you read it yet?
Fuck’s sake. My Power gloated in the back of my mind - looming large, teasing me for not trusting it. A night’s sleep had dulled the pain of betrayal down to a dull fucking ache - but it still fucking hurt.
It stewed in the back of my mind, even if I had no idea what to actually say.
My locker waited for me. I gripped the lock on my locker door, pulling my head against the steel of the door, soaking the heat away. The parasite in my brain came off the boil.
Powers would be cool if I didn't know a thing about Powers.
My fingers drummed on the back of the metal.
Nobody online thought Damien’d done the wrong thing. Nobody online knew he’d outed me to fucking Shadow Stalker. Behind closed doors, the Protectorate machine would be cranking up. My life as it has been would come to a fucking end. My biological and cultural distinctiveness would be added to their own. My Powers would adapt to service them.
I would be assimilated.
I closed my eyes and opened the locker. A slow breath grounded the tension out. Whatever happened tomorrow - today still had to fucking happen. The sun would rise, the world would turn - it couldn’t be stopped. My eyes opened to find the expected melange of books, notepads, and lunchwrappers, crowned by a single pristine yellow post-it note.
It hadn’t been there on Friday. It hadn’t been slipped in through the vents. Either someone opened the door - or they didn’t need to.
Cold fingers crawled up my spin. I glanced back, first over my right shoulder, then my left. I grasped hold of my Power, reassuring myself
One just large enough to prove that someone had either opened the lock, or didn’t have to. It’d been written out, in rapid, scratched pen.
“Thinker 2. Tinker 1.
Meet me at the corner of Caldwell and Revere. Tomorrow. Midnight. Wear something that hides your identity.
You know who I am already.“
Fuck it anyway. My fingers crushed the paper, mushing it down into the bottom of my pocket. Fuck it all. My hand slammed the door shut.. It clattered hard like a lambeg drum, drawing a yelp from a girl walking behind me, bouncing back halfway open before I closed it again.
I marched through the corridors with a purpose, even if my brain hadn’t figured out what that purpose was.
-
I first met Madison on my third day in Brockton Bay. Her bright eyes and cheery smile still sent a thrill through my body, reminding of a summer mistake I couldn’t take back.
My breath caught in my throat, neon desire glowing inside, begging me to try again
Her dark hair shimmered as it cascaded over her shoulders, drawing my eyes down to a low cut red-t-shirt that led my gaze straight to the dark gulf between both breasts that’d been soft against my chest, then on to the full curves of her body, her hips stretching her jeans taught.
We both traded tight smiles - You remember that night too? I could still feel the ghost of her warmth in my arms.
Oh, and Emma Barnes was with her too. With rust-red hair, elegant clothes that had to be more expensive than what Madison wore, and a pus on her like her sharp nose had caught the faintest wiff of dog-shite in the air.
“Oh, it's you.”
I stood a head taller than her and she still tried to look down on me, another lust-filled insect beneath her contempt. She made a show of brushing her rust-coloured hair from her face.
“Where's Shadow Stalker?” I said, forcing eye contact.
My hands went to my pockets. Emma looked like I'd stabbed her with a live sparkplug. Madison gaped.
“How do you know that?”
Oops. My Power kept my secret. In my defence, she distracted me.
She opened with the same blister, words popping out of her mouth.
“Yeah, it's me. Where's Sophia?”
Emma sneered, “What does a thug like you want with her?”
That bit. My fist clenched and released.
“She has an assignment in with us.”
“She was here earlier,” Madison piped in with a bright smile filling her face. Emma stabbed her with a sharp look. “It's her vocational day today.”
At a guess, Ward bollocks, right? No problem.
I shot her a grin. “Thanks, Mads,”
Her giggle thrilled dragging up hot memories of summer and my first months in the Bay with her slim figure warm in my arms. We both drifted through it, sharing a smile, wondering if maybe, we said the right thing right now we could have that again in a racing heartbeat.
Her fingers grasped at the blue clips in her hair. I just had to….
Emma stewed, stepping in front of her friend, murdering the memory once and for all.
“Shouldn't you be somewhere?” she growled. “That isn't here.”
Right you are, princess. Down to business. No more reminders of the dumbest thing I ever did. Take a breath.
“If you see her,” I said, staring her down. “Tell her the answer's yes. Sophia'll know what I mean.”
Don't look at me like that. What choice do I have?
Confusion flickered across Emma's face for a single heartbeat before she caught herself. Appearances had to be kept up.
“Fine, whatever. Go away.” She prickled, spinning on her heel with a flick of her hair, throwing up the wall. Her royal highness can no longer tolerate your axe body spray.
Or the idea of being left out of the loop by her pet parahuman.
Right. That's that done. Sophia's note crumpled inside my pocket as I crossed the school. Aki'd gone to Knott's class. Taylor'd gone missing.
Sophia knew.
Armsmaster of Borg probably knew.
A letter would arrive. Or a summons to the principal’s office to be met by a sour-face Blackwell flanked by a pair of blank-face protectorate goons and a cheerful suit with a contract.
Fuck’s sake. Until then, life went on.
A hard slap to the back of the skull knocked me to the ground. I caught myself on my hands, panting. Adrenaline surged - expecting the worst. Laughter chased. A battered football landed point-first on the ground, before flopping to its side. My Power triggered.
I caught the football on the second try.
“Fucking Twice!?” My voice echoed in the corridor, pulling all eyes to me. The egg-shaped ball cannoned from my toe, tumbling through the air, clattering off a light before ricocheting to the ground in front of three people.
They still didn't have names that I knew.
It bounced into their leader's hands. I'd meant it to hit his grinning face.
The trio marched towards me. I stood my ground. They circled around. I stepped back. The crowds in the corridor watched, eager for another brawl.
“Just testing it wasn't a fluke the other day,” the leader said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Hey, Sully, right? You're sharp, could use someone like you.”
His hand right hand extended, my new best friend according the shining grin filling his round face, pink as a ham. The hair on my neck prickled. Hard eyes stared through me. My own hand went to my pocket.
“I don't do sport,”
A knuckle tap against the brace on my legs explained why.
“That's the beauty of it, Sully. The gym's got a beast of a physio, sponsored by Medhall.”
Paranoia bit deep into my back. They fucking knew. Somehow they knew. I stepped back. The noose tightened as all three stepped in, circling around. The grin broadened. My power snapped back to life.
His eyes dropped to the pocket where I held my multitool. My fingers worked the blade open, just in case. The air drew thick in around us, their bodies turning tense, pulsing with too many steroids. Behind the smile, I saw his mind work, his free hand clawed over his own pocket, ready to draw.
The other two probably did the same. I didn't dare break eye contact to check.
I get him. His friend gets me. My Power gives me the edge.
The smile remained. Savage, daring me to fight, to give them a reason. He made a show of leaning forward, to share some hidden secret, staying just far enough away to dodge if I took a swing.
My hand gripped tight, blood coming up to the boil. My Power pulsed in my ears, winding itself up.
“You're still kinda new here, so you probably don't know it yet. But this is the kinda city where being in with the right crowd can really open a lot of doors.” His voice oozed from his lips, slick as a salesman. That right hand still hung there, waiting for me to grasp. “Especially if you get in early.”
Just take the hand. Be friends. Join the team. Have a lot of fun being a part of something. Life gets easier when you stand together. And we all pull together, marching to the future. Become part of something bigger. See those slant-eyed fuck's over there? They're hurting your new mate Jimmy here, the same guy who helped you out last night. Here's a gun. Stop 'em.
Two words came to mind. My fingers clenched tight on the handle, ready to back them up. Drumbeats thrummed in my ears, drowning out the little voice of sanity that begged me to slip out of the noose.
The world beyond crushed down to nothing, the trio and me spotlighted on the stage. I had to act. I had to do something.
Two stood behind me, beyond arm's reach. A snap of a glance told me they had weight and size on their side, a year older than me at least a year. One with a broad face a heavy gut and sunken eyes – the same guy who'd won a spelling competition a few months back. The other, thinner, with bony cheeks. He had a hand in his pocket too. All three wore the same orange jersey.
Sponsored by Medhall.
“So, what do you say, brother?” His eye winked. His free hand hovered. His other held behind his back.
I'd be a fucking moron if some traitorous part of my mind didn't wonder if it'd make life easier for the bar. Heil a little. March a little. Pay lip service. Like going to Mass. You didn't have to give a fuck about God, just play along like the rest to keep up appearances, be part of the community, well respected in the village.
Get a nice Germanic cape name when Kaiser figured me out...Schroedinger or something. Sure, didn’t Hitler have an Irish cousin?
The bubble in my brain burst. Clarity crashed back. Five better words followed.
“I got shit to do.”
Nobody questioned it. Everybody saved face since everyone had shit to do. Two quick steps took me through a gap between them, walking away.
Just like that.
I tackled a problem like a sane and normal person, walked away, and felt bloody good about it too. My hand still clutched the tool in my pocket, in case they changed their minds. They talked as I Ieft.
“Told you the Mick wouldn't go for it.”
“Yeah, but you see what he did to that slope last year?”
So that's why. You break one scumbag's skull and nobody ever forgets.
Adrenaline drove my body along in high gear all the way to morning physics class, burning for action. A fourteen hour day stood between me and the traditional 'First Night Out'. My mind spun through ideas, sketching things out in my copybook when I should've been drawing up experiments.
A shadow loomed over.
I looked up to be assaulted by the image of the absent minded professor with the scraggling beard formed from tangled hair the colour of an Irish summer sky.
“What's this?”
“Electrical circuit,” I answered.
Just drop it. He picked it up instead, grabbing the notebook without even asking. Nope. You're just a fucking kid. Nothing more. I'll do what I goddamned want in here in my own little domain.
“And the calculations?” He pushed, skimming through them, sketches of circuit diagrams and ideas. He leafed through the numbers, a page or two of calculations scribbled and scratched out before I remembered how to do it right. Of all the people who might have an idea, who might call the police.
Then came the questions. Then came the offer. What the fuck do I have to be the one the administration of Winslow gives a bollocks about?
Why not someone who actually needs it?
He eyed me up, grey eyes looking down on me through thick spectacles. “Dwell time on an inductance as function of the capacitance, am I right? Cycle time? What's this supposed to be? A weapon?”
The engineers among you can guess what I'm doing.
Trying not to laugh, for a start.
“Trying to build something for my da's bar. It's a level sensor.”
I lied through my teeth and dared him to call me on it. I could see the thought go through his mind. Why so much voltage for a level sensor?
Don't worry, I had an answer for that. I had my Power. I had my way through.
The notepad dropped to my desk with a crack
“Well. At least try and give me the illusion of paying attention. And remember, unfortunately you're graded on your ability to remember this curriculum, not how to put any of this to any practical use in the real world.”
He concluded I wasn't worth the effort.
Thankfully.
Another morning class dragged itself out into hours, my mind screaming along with the accelerator pinned to the floor. No second thoughts. Not one step back. The elastic in my brain cut and all the pent up energy and tension snapped into action.
Nobody told me to stop. Nobody cared. Girls babbled. Greg talked at Julia about Star Trek The school walls greyed out. The world outside the barred windows rolled on, shining with colour.
Lunchtime arrived.
Nothing happened.
The note turned over in my fingers. Twelve hours until the cape went on and I couldn't think of anything else. It ballooned inside my skull, squeezing the world out.
Thinker 2. Tinker 1.
Fuck’s sake
I tried to sort my feelings out, but I couldn’t. Anger, frustration, excitement - a twinge of neon lust and a pang of betrayal warred inside me, crashing and crunching together into an emotional mulch
“Hey, man, what's up?” said Damo
If my mouth hadn’t been full of mystery meat I might’ve said something both of us regretted. I looked up at him, glaring back while I chewed. I fished the note from my pocket, put it on the table, and slid it over to him
“What?”
I swallowed. The mystery meat stuck in my throat for a second, demanding a second gulp before I could speak.
“That was in my locker this morning,” I said.
He picked it up. He unfurled it in his hands.. The colour drained from his face as he read it. He looked at me
“I’m fucked,”I said.
The words settled in the air between us. He looked at the note. He looked at me. I waited for him to say something, afraid of what I might say if the space between us didn’t get filled.
“Sorry man. I just wanted to help,”
The wrong thing. For the Right reasons. The weight of it settled on my shoulders. My life had already ended. I’d become a walking ghost.
“Mate, you just summed up a million words,”
He settled back into his chair, drawing a slow, uneasy breath. His eyes scanned the room around him, stopping at each table, and each little clique in turn. They ignored us as they usually did
“How’d they know?”
My Power squirmed, spinning in place with nothing to do. It couldn’t change what’d happened last night, no matter how much I wanted it to. It pressed on the inside of my skull, pulsing, begging for a chance.
It gave me the chance to tell him
“Sophia Hess is Shadow Stalker,”
Obviously. The tone of my voice cut deeper than I meant. The look of shock on his face passed in a moment
“Oh. Shit,” he breathed. He fucked up. He knew. It stabbed him right to the chest. That's all the mattered. Now move on and get the fuck over it. The benefit of being an adult stuck in a teenager's body – sometimes I could almost make a passable impression of being a sensible human being.
His head napped around, snatching at glance at Emma as she came through the doors, then back to me.
“She's calling you out?”
“I don't know,”I said, scratching at my lunch with a plastic spork. “I'll figure it out when I get there.”
Alright, and sometimes the impression fell apart.
“You're actually going?” He blinked. “It's probably a trap y'know.”
He stabbed a slab of mystery-'meet' with his spork to make the point.
“It probably is.” I gave a gallic shrug. Like those guys at Chernobyl, ordered to go flood the reactor with water. Either they went, and found it was still there and they had to fix it, or they were already fucking dead and didn’t know it yet and getting a face full of nuclear reactor wouldn’t change that.
“Yeah,” Damien continued.” She's a complete power-tripper. She'll pin you down as the new villain on the block just to prove she can.”
Yep.
“But I know her weakness.”
“Water?” he snorted.
“Electricity.” I grinned. “And I'm pretty good with the canned Thor.”
“It's still fucking retarded when she has the backing of an entire organisation of heroes and the rule of law behind her. Between the Nazi's, the Asians, the Merchants – the most dangerous gang in this city is still the cops y'know.”
“We have evidence.” I took a bite, hoping he'd drop it.
“The school had evidence.” he pushed, pointing a finger right at me.
A spark flickered in my mind. Finally, a reason, something good enough to justify to the rationalist weirdos out there. Hah! I have a reason for doing this. You can't disagree with it.
“She's a power tripper, right? She'll do what she has to do to force me into it. At least I can go on my terms rather than being bounced into it.”
Click. Another landmine realisation. Yep, you're fair game too y'know. She'll get to me through you. She'll do anything to you just to force me to fight.
I hated the look in his eyes. My Power had been right all along. Bloody idiot. My power crackled in the back of my mind, giggling to itself. Either I could go with the argument that shut him up and made him feel like shit, or I could get proved wrong.
Maybe? Maybe not? Maybe he needs to know anyway?
Fifteen seconds passed.
I ached to undo it, to make it go away. Sorry, too late. This ride's departed. Sit back. Enjoy. This happened because you wanted it to happen. My Power gloated at me. This is what happens when you ignore me. This is how bad it feels.
“Aki needs to know.,” he said.
Shit, I forgot about that.
I regretted everything.
I regretted telling Damien about my power. I regretted not telling him sooner. I regretted getting involved by picking Taylor up. I regretted not doing it sooner. I regretted jumping….
I couldn’t do anything about it
--
Dancing with the sausage creature through Brockton Bay's rush hour traffic blew off the stress of the day, my power keeping me one step ahead of the monster's mangled, moaning grasp.
Damien lived two streets over from Taylor - to the point where I passed her house on the way to his. I could’ve passed her home a dozen times and never noticed. The whole area had been built at the same time - a company town for the dockers financed by brazen new money long since spent.
Timber-framed houses styled like miniature second empire mansions lined streets with names Lord Street and Albert Square. The names on the signs glorified the guilded families who’d once owned half the city.
A hard century had taken the paint off most of the houses, and the rooves off some. A few had been boarded up.
Damien’s house stood behind a waist-high rusted chainlink fence on the corner between two streets. A formerly blue Pontiac sat where the lawn should’ve been, the sea air inexorably returning it to the earth from where it came. A plastic Saturn pickup waited in the drive, faded and cracked but still running.
I parked my bike behind a coal-bunker where it wouldn’t be seen from the road, chaining it to a water pipe. Akiko’s bicycle already waited, chained to a gas-main.
I could trust Aki, and wake up Asian. I could let her swing in the breeze and…. I couldn’t think of any reason why not. It seemed the logical thing to do - the cold-minded solution. Aki had joined the gang, of course she’d be loyal to it.
I choose to trust her - doing anything different just didn’t feel right. Better to hang together, than hang separately. At least I’d have company on the gallows.
My body ached to run. I sat back on the Honda’s saddle for a second, only to remind myself that I could still go anytime. I didn’t have to face them both with my terrible secret.
I chose to do it anyway.
I pushed the doorbell. It didn’t ring. I gave the timber door three sharp knocks with the plastic armour on my knuckles. Footsteps beyond counted down to my doom as they approached. My Power loomed again in my mind, reminding me I had the chance to take it back. It wound itself in knots in the back of my mind, begging me to trigger it
Three locks latched, counting down. The door hinged open with a horror-show creak
“Finally got released?” asked Damien, making a point to look behind me.
“Der Grammerfuehrer was late.”
“Aki’s in my room upstairs,”
The house had the smell of heat and moisture, iron radiators hissing, crackling and sizzling with raw heat. Timber floorboards creaked underfoot. Gaslights refitted with electric bulbs cast warm light on a century of family photographs on the varnished timber wall. A photo of his mam sat above a box of brass medals, and a framed, folded American flag.
We all had our own crosses, I guess.
I preferred the house to our apartment. The warmth of a true home enveloped like a blanket as I followed him up creaking timber stairs. Decades of feet had had worn the edges of each step smooth.
Damien’s room waited right at the top of the stairs, inside what used to be an attic. The door opened to the smell of feet, knockoff Tomahawk body spray and hot metal.
His bed lived against one timber partition wall, with its own dedicated radiator. A small desk was piled with schoolbooks, comics and sketchbooks. A dozen posters drawn from films that everyone but me knew had been pasted across the walls.
And old television sat in the corner, perched on a stack of hardback books. Cables trailed from it to an Atari. Akiko sat beside it, snuggled in a well worn beanbag, gazing down
“We’re ready,” said Damien.
He sat himself on the edge of his bed. I took a comfortable looking space on the floor close to the radiator to soak in the heat.
“So what is so important?” said Aki. Her eyes moved from Damien to me, looking for a reason why her afternoon had been interrupted.
For a moment, neither of us knew how to answer the question. My hand found a ten cent coin in my pocket. I rolled it between my fin
“Heads,” I said, and flicked the coin
I caught it in one hand and showed her. Heads.
“Is that it,”?
I gave her a wan smile, and made my second attempt. Then a third.
She saw me flip a coin ten times, and call the result each time. I watched her gaze morph from mildly annoyed, to an intense, staring curiosityt.
Well. Here goes. Aki stared, eyes begging for information
She smirked. “It is a dummy. A fake coin.”
Damien’s expression remain flat. She looked to me, still waiting for the punchline.
“No,” I shook my head. I took a breath to force down the lump in my throat. “I’ve a Power,” I told her. “My Power lets me succeed at things.”
Disbelief stared back at me. My mouth went dry.
“Usotsuki..” she whispered.
Silence. she stared. Around, the room shrunk back, retreating into the void beyond my mind. My power thrummed, throbbing in the back of my skull, begging to fire, begging for me to laugh it off as a joke
No. I want to tell them. I really do. Akiko needs to know.
Something inside burst, a hot liquid pop in the back of my neck that seeped down the inside of spine. Time ticked forward, past the point of no return. The pressure released, leaving my sitting, slack-jawed struggling to find the right words.
You're on your own now, mate. You didn't listen to me, now look. This is all your fault.
“No. I amn’t” I breathed.
Aki sat in her chair, looking like she'd taken a wet fish to the face.
What happens now? I wondered. No sympathy for the devil, I guess. At least I made my choice.
“How?” Aki breathed, leaning towards me “How did it happen?”
And I knew what she meant too. Dwelling pulled my head into that space again.
Falling.
Tumbling.
Accelerating.
Regretting.
Trigger.
The Power thrilled in the back of my mind, resonating in the instant. Cold fingers of death crawled over my body, room revolving around as my mind tumbled through the moment.
I caught myself. Yeah, I did that. No need for a long story. No need for the lead up. Just the simple facts, to save my own sanity.
“I got into a bad place. I jumped off a building. Halfway down I regretted it. My Power triggered.”
She inhaled through a half open mouth, placing her hands on her lap. Her fingers grasped.
“Fuck,” Damien spat, sending a shock through the room.“If I knew I shouldn't have let them talk me out of it.”
The grin he wore on his thin face ate shit for breakfast, dinner and tea.
I laughed. Damien laughed. Aki didn’t. She sat there, lips moving as she tried a few syllables on for size, but found nothing that fit.
“What?” I asked.
“That...... is that what it takes?”
I nodded. “It happens when you're just so fucked up, when you're panicking, you're trapped and you just can't find a way out, eventually it just breaks through and you trigger.”
“So....”She inhaled.“How is that even fair!” Her voice rang back off the walls as she jumped to her feet. The chair clattered over onto its side. I pulled myself up against the drawers. She stepped forward. “After all.... after everything and you get a Power and what happens to me?” she jabbed herself in the chest with her finger.“What makes you so different?”
Dumb. Fucking. Luck.
I used my Power to cheat her out of the truth. Again.
Again, she asked me what it took.
I looked away from her, at the bandages on my arm, still feeling the echo of the moment. “I don't know really.”
I couldn’t tell if I felt worse for lying, but I didn’t feel better. It sat like a rat heavy on my shoulders, gnawing at the back of neck, urging me to tell the truth anyway.
“What else?”
Of course she could read the moment.
My power returned, charging through my brain, reminding me I could end the moment anytime I wanted. Go back, try a different route maybe just leave it with a demonstration..
No - no going back. I just needed to figure out how to drop the next mountain on her.
Damien made the choice for me. “Shadow Stalker knows who he is,” he blurted out. He sucked on his lower lip “Because Sophia Hess is Shadow Stalker and she recognised a post I made last night.”
Something tickled the back of my skull, a sensation like hair crawling over my brain. Aki’s face looked for a moment like something had broken inside her, her eyes glassing over as her open mouth struggled to find the words to fill it. Her breath shook, her hands clawed in front of her.
She looked at me, she looked at Damien. She looked ready to burst out of her skin and scream.
The room grew pregnant, waiting for something to happen. We all looked at each other, hoping someone else would fill the silence.
“So na...” Aki slumped into her chair, energy draining from her body.
Job done.
She sat there processing, looking like her whole world had collapsed down around her.
I hated that look with every fibre in my body. My power triggered and the universe folded back over itself in an eye-blink.
“What else,” Akiko asked, again.
I let Damien explain, again.
Her reaction didn’t change.
My Power activated for a second time, letting me run through it once more, dangling the possibility of another way, another answer
On the third run through, I tried to speak. I failed to find any other words.
And on the fourth, the fifth and sixth.
Finally, I resigned myself to it, staring at my boots while everything played out exactly as it did the first time around. Except I didn’t look at her face. I didn’t look at anything. I let the moment pass staring at the floor while my Power spun its wheels in my brain.
A cold draught of air snapped me out of it, the night breeze pulling at the curtains. Aki's beanbag sat empty. A pair of french doors leading out onto the balcony, creaked in the breeze.
“Shit,” I snarled. A dreadful thought rang in my mind. I rolled to my feet, racing through the curtains after her. She already stood by the railing, looking out over the glittering city below, her body rigid with tension, arms locked supporting her against the metal.
“Hey wait!” I yelped.
Her body spasmed, her head snapping around to face me
“I...” she gasped. She looked out over the rail.“You thought I was going to!”
“Well...” I felt my cheeks flush.
In fairness, given the tone of the conversation....
“Thanks,” she gave me a warm smile.“Anyway.”
“Anyway?” I stepped forward.
“I just wanted to think,” she said, letting the rail take her body weight.“What could I do with a Power?”
I leaned back against the cold iron, feeling it soak the heat of the moment out of my back. I thought for a second
“And Power......” I stumbled over my own tongue, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. I looked up at her, not obviously listening to me. “A Power doesn't make the problem go away it just. It gets you out of the moment.” The words came to me a moment later.“ But It doesn't actually solve the problem.”
My thanks to the Word of God for that one. My Power hummed along, reminding me I could push it a little further.... maybe explain myself better. I had a way out if I fucked it up again.
It gave me the nerve to look her in the eye and say what I really meant.
“My Power saved me from the jump sure, but everything that brought me up to the roof – it didn't do a damn thing about it.” I looked down, pursing my lips for a moment, before feeling myself smile as the words came on their own. “The last six months helped me deal with that.”
A faint smile showed she'd grasped the implication. Never let anyone say I didn't mean it either. My Power kept my body from splattering on the concrete, but it didn't save my life.
“I...” She started. Her expression darkened into a frustrated scowl.“English is a poor language.”
I snorted. She smiled. Our eyes met. Something sparked in the moment. It died as she looked away over the city, leaving a vague emptiness behind. Nothing would happen.
“One day this city will wash away too. And we will be free again.” she said, staring into the night. “We have learned to swim.”
I wondered how she knew. Then I realised what she meant.
We'd both reached that parapet moment, herded to the point where we had no other option but to jump. We both had our one bad day. A Power beyond our own reached down, with an offer neither of us could refuse.
And we both had a price to pay our deal on Chickasaw mountain.
------------------------
I made it home just in time to meet the Mammy introducing Missus Freeman from upstairs to the very Irish concept of ‘The Notions.’ With the pair deep in conversation, I thought I could make it to the safety of my room
A bark from Archie ruined my chances.
Both pairs of eyes locked onto me.
“And what time is this?” The mammy’s voice cut. “Any longer and the dinner would’ve been in the dog.”
The dog, of course, looked up at me with his bright brown eyes. Of he course he’d betray me - I’d cost him a fancy meal.
I triggered my power, folding back in time to the moment before I opened the door. I’d a pack of M&M’s in my pocket - one or two would be enough to keep him quiet without making him sick.
My hand pushed the door open a second time. The Mammy and Missus Freeman continued their discussion on Notions and ‘The Crab Bucket’. A pair of sweets satisfied the dog, and I slipped into my room unnoticed.
I finished my dinner.
I finished my homework.
I finished my work at the bar as I normally did
I cashed out my Reno Online account.
I needed money. My power helped. So long as I kept it to a limit to fly under the radar, or got into a lobby with a good mix of Bingo players, I could get my own pocket money.
---
The school hustle swept me along to my first class of the morning, mind drifting elsewhere.
The mill cranked on, running on automatic. Assignments made it to where they needed to go. Payments were taken.
Life continued, oblivious to the future. I followed, unable to stop thinking about it.
It seemed ridiculous - to be carrying on the charade of a normal life when later that night, I’d be putting on a costume and heading out into the night.
Industrial Arts gave me a chance to tinker in the old fashioned way, getting up to my elbows in the classroom machinery, before heading into lunch smelling of machine oil and teen spirit.
My skin crawled as I turned a corner, touched by feeling that someone, somewhere watched. I stopped, my head snapping around. Nothing beyond the usual mill of teenagers pushing past each other, cliques huddling in their own corners. The Serengeti continued as usual.
Ever see those African nature documentaries where the solitary gazelle is standing in the grass. The camera sees the lion sneaking up, and the Gazelle smells the bastard sneaking up, but for the life of him he just can't see where the attack is about to come?
Somewhere upwind maybe?
My Power sparked into life, tingling at the tips of my fingers, ready to go, ready to fire, ready to give that little bit of an edge that made the difference.
You can fight, it assured.
I stood there, wound up and ready to spring, body burning for action.
Nothing happened.
Not a thing.
Fuck you Shadow Stalker and your fucking paranoia. The energy dumped through my first through someone's locker door. The haze cleared, my surroundings filtering into my mind.
Four Nazis. Five Asians. A thinning crowd in the corridor. My subconscious had just beaten my conscious mind to the realisation.
I raced on to the canteen, stabbed by a sudden pang of hunger. A few scavenged cartons of Froot Joose joined the school-issue meal. Compressed pea-fibre, breadcrumbs, chicken-skin shreddings, deep fried yellow-dyed flour sticks and 'brown sauce'.
Yum.
I took a seat at our corner table, opposite Akiko. She didn't even look up from her tray, hunching over it until every last stain of food had been removed.
We both shared that tendency. We both had the same teacher. She just took that lesson to its logical conclusion, doing what she had to do to get away from Sophia.
You can say 'Fuck the bitch' all you want. I couldn't. We're still friends, after all.
Damo dropped into the seat beside me, slapping his tray onto the table. The other two had decided to eat out somewhere or something leaving it up to us three. A finger of chicken rolled free, bouncing on the floor before settling against the wall.
Aki' watched it roll, waiting for him to pick it up.
She frowned as he stabbed another with his fork instead. “Mouttai nai”
“Five second rule,” he shrugged, swallowing the next finger whole. He shuddered as it oozed down his throat. Hunger proved a better sauce than Frank's.
I looked at her with a smirk on my lips. Don't worry, he'll learn soon enough. Four weeks to go. She scratched at her neck for a second, settling herself back into her chair
“So Ieba,” She began. “I had a thought last night.”
Aki pulled a single jump drive from her pocket, placing it on the table in front of her.
“Just one?” Damien poked.
She scowled at him, flashing a middle finger. He smirked, chomping a spork full of chips. Somehow, it felt just a little hollow.
After a few moments, her smirk returned. “Maybe we don’t need to out-fight Shadow Stalker.”
--
I had a shopping list – capacitors, coils, contactor blocks, and some cable, among other things. In another world, Homeland Security hellfire drones would be winging their way to my neighbour's house as I searched. In Brockton Bay, you could buy anything at the Market without even raising so much as an eyebrow.
This world might be worth saving after all.
Someone explain to me how the world with Endbringers, Parahumans, Murderhobos Ashbeasts and Sleeper could, in some bent and fucked up way, seem more rational and less insane than mine.
“It's right back this way,” Aki beckoned us through the crowds, snapping me out of it.
“You sure this is OK?” Damien looked at the group of men standing beside one of the stalls selling katsu curry chicken and ramen. My mouth watered at the scent. It took me a few moments longer to spot their shirts.
Even in the market, the gangs lurked.
They eyeballed all three of us as we walked pass. My skin prickled.
“My Father knew Mister Ishimori in Nagasaki. He ran an electronics shop. I'll speak for you.”
Aki led on. It's OK. I won't betray you. The idea simmered in the back of my mind, my hand never far from my tool.
My multitool you feckless rogues.
Okay, I'll admit I did have a bit of a thing for the denim skirt and zettai ryouki look she had going, especially with the black jacket hanging open to a taught green t-shirt.
She led us to a stand under a green awning.
“This is a bad idea...” he said, into my ear. “You know....”
“Yeah. I figured it out.”
He seemed to relax.
“Besides. We've an advantage,” I added, with a smirk
His hand clutched tight around a new tazer in his pocket. Thanks for the vote of confidence.
Aki led us to a stand built around a dozen plastic bins filled with meticulously ordered electronic components. Not just capacitors, but whole phone PCB's, screens, batteries, chargers – a real Tinker's paradise.
Behind, a short, man in round shape, with bowl-cut black-hair and square-lensed glasses waited, the edge of his lips curling up.
So, definitely not going to overcharge me then.
“I will talk,” aid Aki, stepping in front.
It's one thing to hear her speak with the softest hint of a Japanese accent in English, but an entirely different thing altogether to hear her go full bore in her native language. Her voice threw off the shackles of an imposed tongue, mutating her into a new person. Stronger, harder, more direct, speaking her true mind.
“Holy shit,” said Damien, under his breath.
I thought the same, but not in so many words.
Aki stopped. The stall owner gazed at me, reading my mind. I met his gaze.
He gave me one and two fingers instead.
“Sen Ni-hyaku dollar.”
He answered in Japanese to keep me from arguing, and I knew it. His pronunciation of 'dollar' proved it. Guess he expected an ordinary American, unaware that a world existed beyond the two shining seas, and not a recovering weaboo who picked holiday destinations solely because his favourite anime had been set there. Aki opened her mouth to translate. I cut her off.
“Sen Dollar...”
They were the first numbers I thought of. I think it was a flat thousand. The look of surprise on his face made it worth the effort. Yeah, I understood you.
“Sen Hyaku.”
“Deal.”
I offered a handshake. He sucked a breath through his teeth. My hand pulled my wallet from my pocket. Damien's eyes saucered as I counted out the money.
Yeah.
For my troubles I became the proud owner of a duct-tape-wrapped box of potentially stolen electronics. A late night's work could turn it into something....useful.
Damien watched me slip my wallet back into my jeans pocket, his hand still resting on the bulge in his jacket. He didn't ask the question. I didn't answer it either.
Akiko bubbled her thanks to the stall owner, earning a warm thanks in return.
“So, half price, like I promise.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Anything for a friend.” She said it with a smile.
Paranoia bit deep in the pit of my stomach. Maybe she had another motive? I forced myself to trust her – against my better judgement, or against the whining of my backseat passenger, I'll leave that up to you.
Aki dived deep into bins of old computer parts, scavenging. Damien pecked at the pirate video nasties, lifting them from their racks, before slipping them back into place. I itched to go home and get working, my palms prickling with sweat.
Slow, deep breaths cooled my head. It didn't stop me from fidgeting when we found a spare park bench to sit and eat dinner. For the first time in months, I found it hard to eat.
“For once you aren't hungry.?
“It's six hours to my first cape-fight against an experienced ward.”
Some encouragement would've been nice.
“You don't trust my plan?”
Sorry, Aki.
“I don't trust any plan that involves me being the only one risking my bollocks.”
And I amn't about to jinx it by telling you what it is, either.
Damien chuckled. “My dad served as a REMF in 'nam. It's the family tradition.”
“The fuck is a REMF?”
“A rear echelon motherfucker,” he answered.“Smart enough to keep around on base while the grunts go out in the shit.”
“Someone has to run the server,” said Akiko.
“And the other two have shit to do.” I groused.
“Dude, you got the Power,” he said. “Besides, if she beats your ass, she won't have any reason to bother us anymore. That's why you're doing this, remember?”
Hoisted by my own petard. Fuck sake.
“This whole situation's fucked up.”
“Not my fault.”
“Nobody's fault,” I said. Technically mine for not telling Hess to fuck off, but so it goes. Technically his for blowing my cover, but so it goes. Nothing could change what happened now.
Damien's gaze accused. “We got no choice but to stick together,” he said.
Nobody said much after that. Reality bit down hard.
Steel coloured clouds hung overhead, pressing us down. Only Akiko really ate, but even she just picked at things. A bite here, a bite there, but nothing more. Half a box of chicken went into nearest bin, food for the homeless or the seagulls.
We walked together to the bus, kicking at stones and cans.
The spark had gone, Damien said it. The silence proved it. Not today, not tomorrow but soon enough. We'd fall apart, going our separate ways over time until eventually, without realising it, we'd stopped being friends and just become people we used to know. Or I got burned, birdcaged or broken by the PRT PR department.
Fuck. I kicked a stone into the road, bouncing it off someone's parked Buick.
“It might've been easier if I hadn't told anyone.”
They both looked at me. Aki shrugged.
“You want to know what?” said Damien, sitting on the bustop bench supporting himself with his elbows on his knees. He looked down at the tarmac before looking up at me. “You know what I thought when you told me?”
I pushed forward, looking out into the street, rather than right at him. “I'm scared to know.”
My Power rose to the surface. I made it wait.
“I thought, if I had Powers, at least I know I'd have a certain job. Isn't that weird?”
Aki watched, leant against the bus-stop with her legs crossed, making a show of obviously not listening, just as I obviously didn't appreciate how cute she could be in a denim miniskirt with thigh-hugging dark tights.
“Well...” pushed Damien.
“I think you just made the best argument ever for joining the Protectorate,” I said, with a shrug.
“So why have you not done that yet?”
“It'd be a job for life sure, but.........”
The laughter started. What I’m about to say. What I’m about to do. Fighting Wards and Endbringers. A job for life, sure.
“What's so funny,” she asked.
“Nothing, really.”
Well. Maybe not entirely poisoned.
I'd end up a Ward, probably. But I'd go kicking and screaming the whole way in.
--
My bedroom stank of hot electronics, sweaty teenager, wet dog and cold stew.
I sat on my bed, all fingers and thumbs trying to get the last few cable connections to mate. Wiring things up to work on a bench, that’s easy. Wiring things to work as part of clothing that has to be taken on, taken off, and tolerate being bounced around in a fight, that’s hard.
Doing that and having it all work first time?
Maybe I did earn a Tinker rating.
I knew how to build it, even if I couldn’t always translate that to my fingertips.
Aki clattered away at her laptop – a sleek black model set up beside my clunky desktop - making a desperate attempt to ignore the dog snuffling at her feet, hungry for the dregs in the bowl.
Archie yapped for attention. Aki bolted rigid in her seat, staring at the dog, tethered to the desk by a static-strap, pinned by a locked door, with no option but a bloody fight to the death against razor-sharp fangs, gleaming for blood.
[Destination?]
[Agreement]
[Infestation?]
[Agreement]
[Insinuation?]
[Nah Fuck it. Couldn’t be arsed.... ]
An open door and a stomp of a boot on the floor encouraged the mutt out before trigger warning turned into Trigger Event. Probably not.
Never, I hope.
“Thank you,” she breathed, grounding the panic through the desk.
Damien watched, sitting with his back against the window at the other end of the room, glancing at us both, looking like the lost orphan that didn’t get let in on the joke.
Don’t worry, you’ll get it soon enough if you stick around.
“Is it ready?” he asked.
“Unh,” Akiko nodded, remembering herself. “I need to test it first. You mind, Ian?”
In my hands, I held a half finished helmet, fitted with a pair of goggles. Cables trailed from the helmet to a plastic box the size of a deck of cards containing a single PCB, with a power supply taped beneath it.
Without thinking, I flicked the switched. A sharp crack and the acrid scent of escaping blue smoke left me sitting dumb for a moment, wondering what’d happened
Two pairs of eyes stared at me. You didn’t just blow that, did you? Knowing I had a Power that helped what that sort of shit brought out the biggest pair of shit-eating grins I’d ever seen.
My Power spared a few hundred dollars worth of mobile phone motherboard from dying a second time. I’d forgotten to adjust the power supply to something the board could swallow.
A turn of a screw, a flick of a switch and white light shone up from the remnants of the keypad.
“It lives!” I hissed between my teeth, looming over the board.
Aki giggled. She got it. Programmer or engineer – that Frankenstein moment when the system finally came to life and became a working thing always thrilled. The spark of creation, the engine of innovation.
The culmination of the Tao of Scotty.
A screen suspended over one of the goggle lenses turned opaque white. Another one set into the left glove beside the keypad showed the Nokia logo. Chimes tingled in the earpiece inside the helmet. Cables ran to a mic inside the facemask, another hidden in one of the filters, just beneath the surface. A tan ribbon led down from the phone’s camera desoldered, re-cabled, then tucked in behind the other lens.
Care to guess what’s been planned yet?
“Ready to test the uplink?” Aki asked, bubbling in her chair.
“We have about four gig on the sim, right?”
“Unh,” she nodded. “4 hours at that bitrate.”
“Right, right.”
Load the program. Log in to a brand new Streamster account, broadcast, then wait. A black screen showed on Aki’s computer, waiting for the livestream.
“Signal in here’s shite,” I murmured, checking the display. 1 Bar. Maybe.
The laptop echoed my words, chattering blocks of colour coalescing into a choppy video filled with glaring lights and a Japanese girl with her jaw hanging open, gazing at herself onscreen, gazing at herself onscreen.
“Yatta! It works! I am so Leet!”
The dog answered from outside with a bark. A spasm bolted through her body, stunning her enthusiasm dead.
Damien sat up. “It actually worked?”
“Oh ye of little faith,” I said with a grin, aiming the helmet at him.
He shielded his face with his elbow. “Dude, no.”
The alarm on my watch chimed. One hour to midnight.
Nobody said a word. We traded glances, waiting for the silence to break. Something that’d almost started as a game just transformed into something real, exceeding our minds, becoming something solid.
I am really going out there, in costume, to fight against a fucking Ward with a no-holds-barred brand and the attitude to back it up.
Every muscle in my body begged to go. Every shred of common sense begged me to stop. My heart drummed in my chest, driving me forward.
This could end so badly and I knew it. It hurt to know it.
To see it coming.
I couldn’t stop myself.
What would they think if I stopped now? When happens when Sophia tries to push me into it? A thousand and one justifications rushed forward and smothered my qualms, leaving them writhing in the pit of my stomach.
Did Taylor feel like this?
Did anyone?
Banging like a hammer in my head, begging me to go.
“Let’s do it.”
“Man,” Damien breathed, face turning pale. “Whatever happens out there. Good Luck.”
“Thanks.”
Aiko said nothing, the expression on her face a confused muddle of pain and concern, and relief that she got to be the one safe at home.
We snuck passed the mammy, carrying everything in sports bags to the lift. Nobody said a word on the ride up.
Cold air greeted on the roof, the Brockton night crisp and fresh. My mind rolled through the last time I’d been up there – the night I got my Power.
That falling sensation rushed up, roaring in my ears, my Power thrilling in the back of my mind.
No. No backing down. No cold feet. This is happening.
My riding leathers made a good base, something lightweight and flexible, that could take a beating, tolerate a hard landing and, most importantly, zip together to keep bugs out. A kevlar military helmet with an added flare at the neck kept my head safe. A green poncho would keep the water off the power boxes. Sorting out the manoeuvre gear took longer, getting it properly balanced, strapped up and ready to run. Two fresh batteries brought it to life for the first time in months. Relays chattered. Motors whined. The display in the lens came to life, overlaying the world with white terminator-text before settling on a chat window.
Both blades touched. Lightning arc’d, shedding firefly sparks from the steel. The scent of rust and ozone filtered through the mask, battery gauges on my glove twitching.
Hot energy flooded my body a kick of adrenaline snapping me wide awake as I nestled my helmet into place. They spoke, I answered on autopilot, not really minding. I forgot what they said a moment later, washed from my mind.
A hundred visions ran through my mind of how this could go. Most ended badly. It’d hurt sure, but I’d win tomorrow.
Akiko snapped a photograph, showing it to me.
Hands on both triggers, blunt blades locked into the trigger handles, cables running to the harness under the poncho.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
That's me. That's who I am. That's a real fucking cape in the picture and not some moron in riding leathers with a half-assed cosplay.
I am not a pretender.
I transformed. In a real, tangible way, I became something else.
Not a costume.
Not a congoer.
But a genuine cape.
For better or worse.
Whatever happens, at least I can say I did it.
All I had to do was step up to the parapet, and jump. My Power would help me figure out the rest along the way.
When Jack Slash is dead at my feet and I'm barking orders at a traumatised Bonesaw while taking my rightful and bloody place as the new leader of the Slaughterhouse 9, you can look back at this moment and go 'heh'.
--
Oh sweet meteor of death
Fall upon us.
Deliver us in fire
To Peace everlasting.
Fall upon us.
Deliver us in fire
To Peace everlasting.