PREVIOUSLY, ON BRAVE NEW WORLD:
It was a normal day when dozens around the world became Chosen, beings
granted supernatural powers and a brand new form. On such Chosen named
Charlie Harkins sought thrills beyond her imagination, and became the
superhero known as ARACHNYA. On her first attempt at superheroing, she
met another young Chosen named Frank Holden, who became SEEKER.
Together, they foiled a bank robbery where a kidnapped Chosen named
Monica Montoya, also known as QUAKE, the latest hero of our story...
***
I'm one of those people who actually likes school, but going there has
gotten increasingly difficult, especially since I got my powers. I've
had a hard time learning to control them, and I've even accidentally
burst the toilet pipes at home more than once. I can't begin to count
how many times we've called a plumber in to fix things. At least I'm
not blowing up my TV anymore. I also haven't blown up the microwave in
the past couple days. Aunt Holly was at least starting to tolerate this
whole mess.
I don't walk to school. I live quite a ways away from Midtown High,
where I go. I ride the bus, and you'd think being the niece of a Big
City Detective would get you some sort of perks, but it doesn't. I hear
the captain's daughter doesn't even get special treatment (and I also
thought the captain had a son). I have to sit at the back of the bus,
simply because I'm the last stop, and everybody else takes the good
seats up front. I have to sit on the crappiest seat, with a spring
poking me in the butt. And that's a much bigger target thanks to the
fact that I'm not a guy anymore.
Speaking of targets. As I got on the bus, I noticed one of the guys who
nabbed me the day of the Event (as the newspapers keep calling it,
after interviewing that Guardian guy who threw me in jail). I told my
aunt that I couldn't recognize any of them, but I lied. I did recognize
this guy. Of course, it wasn't very hard. He always wore a black vest
without a shirt on underneath, and it the vest was usually always open.
Also very distinguishing was the pink mohawk that he had.
I didn't know if he recognized me, because I'd not only dyed my hair
back to red, but I got a haircut and styled it differently, as well. I
stuck to plain clothing, as opposed that the halter top/skinny jeans
combo they'd made me wear that day. Lucky him, I couldn't do anything
to him here, but I would eventually. I just needed a little more
restraint.
***
All through school, I focused on not breaking something. I was getting
better at controlling my powers, but they were still just a little out
of my bounds. I was so focused on not destroying something with an
accidental hand wave that I nearly bumped into a sophomore girl, who
managed to just miss hitting me.
"Sorry!" I said.
She shrugged. "It's okay." She narrowed her eyes at me. "Do I know
you?"
I had no idea what she meant, I'd never seen this girl in my life, save
for occasionally seeing her here at school, but something about her did
seem familiar. "I don't think so," I said.
She shook her head. "Sorry, I got you confused. Thanks for not bumping
into me." And with that, she was away. I watched her walk away and
couldn't shake the feeling that I'd seen her before, but not her face.
Oh well, maybe I was just confused, like her. This is East City, after
all. Thirteen million people live here, and sometimes, people could
look similar to one another.
***
Angel loved her gift. It had been tough to accept, at first, thanks the
shock of the change. Given her interactions with other Chosen in the
three weeks since the Event, she'd found similar stories, and then
others that were similar to Guardian or Arachnya, where the change had
been accepted almost instantly. She didn't understand why some accepted
the changes quickly and others did not, it seemed to be as random as
the Choosing itself.
She landed on the edge of a rooftop and rested for a moment. She loved
her gift but flying around the city looking for people to help did tire
her wings out. Another thing she loved was watching the city at night.
It was a beautiful sight. She could even see the John Adams Bridge from
where she was, a bridge she'd traversed many times during her normal
human existence as Bernard Winchester. It was lit up against the night
sky, gleaming like a lost, forgotten star. The light was reflected in
the river below, almost like an inverted Aurora Borealis.
Angel sighed, then smiled. Nothing made her happier than just enjoying
the sight of the city. It was something she hadn't experienced when she
was Bernard, Bernard would have only had time to go between work and
home, putting in twelve hours at the office, then spending what waking
time he had left with his wife, Gloria. Gloria was about the only thing
Angel missed from those days.
She stood up and wiggled her toes. She was wearing a simple pair of
sandals that Gloria had given her, but she could just as easily go
barefoot and would never feel physical pain. She had even intentionally
tried to injure herself and it had failed time and time again. It made
her feel a little out of place among all the rest of the Chosen, but
there had to be others who were incredibly resistant to injury and
harm.
She was about fly away, to where she was next needed, but she stopped
as soon as she heard voices coming from inside the top floor apartment
of the building she'd landed on. She stopped and listened to the raised
voices.
"No, Aunt Holly, I wasn't!" a young woman's voice shouted.
"Stop right there, Monica Montoya, and talk to me!" An older woman's
voice, she sounded like she held a position of authority.
"I already told you, I wasn't involved! I went straight to the library
after school, you can ask people!"
"Like who, Monica?"
"I don't remember any of their names! Kids from school, I guess."
"You guess?"
"Aunt Holly, I wasn't beating people up, okay? I'm trying to figure out
how to control my powers, not use them wildly just to have some
semblance of revenge!" There was the sound of a slammed door, and then
the girl climbed out her window and stood on the fire escape. "God!"
Angel recognized this young woman. Her hair was styled, cut and colored
differently, but this girl had gone by the name of 'Quake', and had
helped a gang rob a bank. This had happened at the same time Bernard
was going though his identity crisis, so, clearly, this girl had had an
easier time coping with her new form than Angel herself had.
"I don't get it," the girl said, "I'm telling the truth, and she
doesn't believe me. I lie to her, and she believes me! Why is it that
when I'm honest and true, she thinks I'm lying?"
Angel felt confused. The girl obviously wasn't talking to her, she had
no idea Angel was even there. Who was this girl talking to? Maybe she's
simply talking to herself, Angel thought.
The girl sat down on the fire escape, curled up, and began to cry.
Angel landed back down on the roof and knelt down to watch. Maybe there
was something she could do to help this girl. It would all come to her
soon.
***
Aunt Holly was pissing me off. She wouldn't believe me if I swore on a
Bible, had a judge for a witness, or, hell, even if she witnessed it!
She just doesn't want to believe me, and I can't figure out why. I
banged my head against the brick behind me and shut my eyes. I hated
this. I needed alone time.
Too bad I wasn't destined to get it. I opened my eyes and saw a woman
standing on the roof, looking down at me. I sprung up and readied
myself for a fight. "Who are you?" I asked.
She stood up, fluttered her angel wings and landed on the fire escape
with me. She stared at me, I stared at her, I studied her. She was
probably between twenty-five and thirty, with perfect features, like I
imagine an angel would. She was wearing a purple halter top and
similarly purple pants. Her angel wings were quite a sight, as was her
simply perfect beauty. If I was still a guy, I'd probably have a hard
on.
Granted, if she's anything like me, she used to be a guy.
The woman smiled. "I'm Angel, a Chosen, just like you."
"Wait, a Chosen? What is this, some sort of mystical thing bestowed
upon special people?"
The woman reached out and touched me on the chin. "Don't you think
you're special?"
"Well, no. I feel like the day I changed, I was humiliated and made to
do something illegal."
"I know. You're Monica Montoya, but you used to be Jose. You were used
by the Upscales to rob a bank a couple days after the Event. You go to
Midtown High, and your aunt is a detective in the East City Police
Department, precinct fifteen."
I sighed and leaned back against the wall, arms folded. "How'd you know
that?"
"It's my gift. Yours happens to be demolishing things with your mind."
I corrected her, "My hands, actually. And I can't completely control
it."
She then corrected me, "No, your mind. You think your gift comes from
your hands, but that is merely a result of your not knowing how to
control yourself."
I rolled my eyes. "Wow, you seem to know everything about me, but I
don't know jack about you. Other than the fact that I've seen you on TV
before."
She took me by the hands and then lifted me up, up, up, up... Okay, we
only went to the roof, but that's up enough for me. "I know because
it's my gift to know. I know every Chosen I meet, though it can take a
little bit of time for the knowledge to come. I had to wait for you to
finish your little argument with your aunt before I knew anything about
you."
I sighed. "You heard that, huh? It's about all we do, now." I laughed
at myself. "Why am I telling you this? I don't know you, despite your
in-depth excess knowledge in my life, you don't know me. Why am I
telling you this stuff?"
Angel reached out to me. "Because we're alike. We're both Chosen, and
we can help one another."
I laughed again. "What help do you need? You obviously have complete
control over your powers, I still accidentally blow up mailboxes when I
walk past them! I was sitting in the school cafeteria last week and I
blew out every window just because I accidentally bit down on a plastic
fork! You don't need help, and you can't help me!"
With that, I stomped over to the fire escape, hopped down onto it, and
every window on the opposite building exploded. I knew I was gonna
catch hell for that from Aunt Holly, but I really didn't care. I just
wanted that Angel woman the hell away from me. I shut my window and sat
down on my bed. I needed my alone time, still.
***
Gustav Hammond sat behind his desk and lit a cigar. He was grateful
that his lawyers had done their job, gotten him out of jail within a
mere twenty-four hours, and then he was back behind his desk enjoying
his cigars. Three weeks later, he'd managed to eliminate all traces of
guilt or connections to the East City mafia. He was as legitimate a
businessman as young Arachnya was a hero. Granted, she wasn't as big a
hero as Guardian, but she was still making headlines.
He tapped a button on his desk and asked, "Ms. Narekova, what's my two
o'clock?"
Seconds later, Svetlana Narekova appeared in front of his desk and set
down a memo book. "William Brand, of Brand Industries in Larsen City,
across the River. He'll be here to discuss your proposed partnership."
Of course, he remembered now. The security firm that the two of them
were going to fund. Though security wasn't exactly the right word. It
was more-or-less going to be Hammond's private militia, despite Brand's
additional support. It was quite the ingenious plan, as well. Nothing
public could be tied to them, and as far as the world was concerned, it
was simply a security company, there to defend the great peoples of
East City or Larsen City. Brand would certainly never be able to figure
it out.
He handed her back the memo book. "Thank you, Svetlana. I imagine
you'll be there when we meet?"
She nodded. "Of course, sir."
He smiled. "I'm quite glad I promoted you after your change. From
simple copy boy to my personal assistant simply because of a gender
change."
She smiled. "Not just a gender change, sir." She disappeared, then
reappeared beside him. "There are other things I can do, too," she
whispered in his ear, then kissed him on the back of the neck. He
touched her chin and smiled back at her.
"Remember, don't use your abilities unless absolutely necessary. Brand
doesn't know you're a Chosen, and he can't know."
She nodded. "I understand, sir."
Svetlana stood behind him as the door opened and in walked
sophisticated businessman William Brand. He was the product of many
boarding schools, wealthy parents and a thousand board room meetings.
Devilishly handsome, and quite the playboy, as well. As far as Hammond
was concerned, they were complete opposites, though they both shared a
rich upbringing. Granted, Hammond's was hidden in years of falsified
records stating he'd been born in Kansas and grew up a farmer, the son
of a fertilizer plant owner.
Hammond stood up and walked around his desk to shake hands with the
young billionaire in front of him. "Mr. Brand, it's good to meet you."
Brand smiled. "Nice to meet you, as well."
"So, the security firm."
Brand sat down on one of the couches, Hammond sat down on the other.
"Yes. Just a little something to keep the rise of these super humans in
check."
Hammond imagined he looked surprised. "You're not a believer in post-
humans like the Guardian?"
Brand relaxed his posture. "Let's just say I'm overly cautious. People
like Guardian, or this other one I've heard about named Seeker, while
they seem to be on the right side of the spectrum, there are likely
others who aren't." His eyes seemed to focus on Svetlana, Hammond
noticed. "People need to be defended against the ones who wish to use
their powers for anything less than legal."
Hammond sat back in his seat. "You think there are post-humans on the
wrong side of the law?"
Brand pulled out his phone, clicked on something, then set the phone
down in front of Hammond. It was a video of Arachnya and Seeker
thwarting the bank robbery by the Upscales just a few days after the
Event. "This one calls herself Quake, and she obviously doesn't like
police."
"She also hasn't been seen since that day. There are rumors that she's
gone underground."
"And other super humans have been springing up every few days since
then, all over the country, if not the world."
Hammond slid Brand's phone back across the table. "I'm sorry, Mr.
Brand. I'm not entirely sure I can help you in this endeavor."
Brand smiled. "Is it because of Ms. Narekova back there?" His smile
widened, likely because of the shocked expressions on both Hammond and
Svetlana's faces. "As a matter of fact, I do know about Ms. Narekova's
unique ability." He turned his head slightly toward her. "I wouldn't
teleport behind me, if I were you. I'm a very hard man to sneak up on."
Hammond sat forward. "You're a man of many secrets yourself, aren't
you?"
Brand stood up. "No more than you, Gustav. No more than you."
***
Hammond watched Brand's car drive away. He knew Svetlana was behind
him, but he didn't look at her. "Make sure he's followed. I want to
know every secret William Brand has."
Though he wasn't looking at her, he knew she nodded.
***
Anna Adamsen took a sip of her warm Coca Cola and once again cursed
Barry for not getting his maintenance crew working on the air
conditioning. She looked over at her young assistant and saw that even
tomboyish Charlie Harkins was wearing short shorts and a tank top.
Timmy Saul walked up to them, sat down, and handed Anna a folder full
of photos. "Here you go, Ms. Adamsen. All the pictures I took of that
Delancy Street Gang hide out that the cops raided yesterday."
Anna took the photos. "Thanks, Tim." She looked at the two photographer
teenagers. "Look, you two, I can't think of anything else for you to do
today. Get your butts home and out of this oven."
Charlie grabbed her book bag and flashed a pained smile. "Thanks, Ms.
Adamsen."
"Hey, kid, what's wrong?"
She shrugged. "My parents are having some problems, that's all. It's
nothing a little walk around town can't hurt."
With that, the two of them walked out together. Anna smirked. It was
pretty obvious those two were getting closer, but she was still having
a little trouble with the nice-looking reporter sitting at the desk
next to hers. Keith Cabot wasn't an easy man to make interested. She
walked over to him and saw that he was sweating into his drink, just
like she had been.
"Say," he started, "you talked to Charlie? She gave me these pictures
she took of Guardian the other day, but every time I ask her where she
got them, she just says..."
She cut him off. "Trade secret?"
"She gives you the same thing?"
"So does Timmy. The art of photography, obviously, is a magic that they
don't want to let us reporters in on."
He chuckled. "I guess. The weird thing is that a couple of these look
almost like she was hanging off a flagpole to get them."
"Maybe she was. The girl's pretty good at her craft, I'll give her
that. Being the daughter of a respected ECPD captain doesn't hurt her
detective skills, either."
Keith wiped his forehead, then stood up. "What do you say we get out of
here and get a bite to eat?"
Anna smiled. "I'd like that."
***
THAT NIGHT:
A lone figure stood upon a building, looking down on East City. Though
he lacked a symbol on his chest, and 'ears' upon his mask, he resembled
the classic hero Batman, thanks mostly in part due to his having
purchased a Batman costume to forge his own from. There were
differences. While the costume he bought was black and gray, the one he
wore was completely gray, save for two black panels running under his
arms to down his legs to his boots. His 'utility belt' was not yellow,
it was black. There were always things that needed to be changed when
making one's own way into the super hero business.
He looked down upon the city. He didn't come from this city, but he
knew it like the back of his hand, having studied it extensively. There
was no corner, no alley, no dead end he didn't know, and he would use
that to his advantage. Then, after he was done there, he would return
to his home town of Larsen City, and would continue there.
Though he wasn't going by the name Batman, he was using a portion of
that famous hero's other alias. The Knight jumped and swooped down upon
another rooftop and began his crusade toward helping East City.
***
Josh Reston hid inside his closet and hoped to God that no one came
looking for him. He was crying, something he hadn't done since he was
four. Nine years of pseudo male toughness gone just like his maleness,
in an instant. Now, he simply cowered in his closet, and tried not to
touch his new female features. He just wanted to die.
That morning, Josh Reston had awoken to find a strange woman floating
above him. An unnatural light glowed from her body, and she told him
that there was something wrong with his form. She scared him, since she
had simply appeared on top of him. He wanted to squirm away from her,
but he hadn't been able to. She touched him on the forehead, said only
the word Spark and then disappeared in a pink and green mist.
Josh had then watched as his body changed, shifted into his new form.
He touched his breasts as they grew, felt his groin invert. With every
change came a new sensation, with every sensation came a new fear.
With every fear came a new realization.
The realizations brought the crying, the crying took him into the
closet, There he sat, hoping that no one would find him, that no one
would care that he was missing. His parents rarely ever checked up on
him anyway, maybe now would be the time they actually decided to care
about their son, wouldn't that be ironic?
He wanted to stop crying, but he couldn't. His eyes did nothing but
water, despite his best efforts. He could stop, for some reason. Maybe
it was his newfound female hormones kicking in, and nine years of
repressed emotion coming back at him in force. He hated it. He really,
really hated it.
As he sat there, in the dark, in the closet, he didn't notice the
flickering light bulbs in his bedroom. There was no way he could.
***
I slipped on a ski mask and hopped between fire escapes to get to the
specific alley where the Upscales grabbed me that day, three weeks ago.
I was getting pretty good at using my powers to sort of propel me
forward. It caused a little property damage, but it got me where I
needed to go. Luckily for me, though, the property damage that I did
cause was so minimal that nobody ever rushed out of their apartments to
find me.
I saw them: three Upscales beating up a kid I knew from school. I
landed on the ground behind them and whistled. The two flanking the
assaulter turned toward me and each tried to take a swing at me at the
same time. I did a somersault backward, then used the ground beneath
the left one's feet to spring him up into the air. The other one looked
shocked, then pulled out a knife. He tried to take another swing at me,
but I caught him off guard by rushing straight at him and grabbing him
by the arm. I threw him over my shoulder, on top of the other one.
The last one had stopped beating up the kid - I noticed, it was that
girl I'd bumped in to the other day - and turned to face me. He walked
up to me, no hesitation or fear in his face, and the first words out of
his mouth were, "Monica Montoya, get up and get to school!"
***
I woke up to my alarm clock blaring loudly in my ear, alongside Aunt
Holly banging on my door. I switched my alarm off and smacked myself in
the head. Of course I wasn't that good with my powers. It was only last
night that I'd blown out all the windows of the apartment building next
to ours. I quickly struggled to get dressed, then down the stairs to
the street just in time to catch the bus before it left me there.
There was a new addition to the bus, I noticed. Black kid, scruffy
hair. His hands were behind his head as he casually sat back in my
usual seat. He was the only one in my seat. I kind of ignored him and
sat down anyway.
All through the bus ride to school, that guy wouldn't stop staring at
me. It was creepy and flattering at the same time, thanks to the fact
that I've spent three weeks sleeping in female hormones. If I were
still a guy, I'd just find it outrageously creepy. I just tried to
block him out, but that was incredibly difficult. It was like the guy
was staring into my frickin' soul, or something.
By the time the bus got to school, I was ready to deck the guy, he'd
been staring at me so much. A normal girl, like I wasn't, would
probably have asked this guy to stop long before we got to school, but
I was both preoccupied with the Upscale at the front of the bus and too
extremely disturbed to even bother talking to the guy. And worse? He
kept staring at me, while he followed me! Eventually, I actually did
deck him.
"What's your problem?!" I screamed at him.
He rubbed at his jaw. "I was hoping to talk to you, pretty chick."
"So talk, don't just stare at me like a perverted stalker!"
The guy didn't say anything, he just kept staring. After about five
minutes of me boiling with rage, he finally threw his hands up in
defense and said, "Hey, hey, it's okay! Don't go blowin' me up or
anything, sweet cheeks." I think my shock made him laugh. "Yeah, I
figured that was you who blew out all the windows in my building last
night."
"I didn't... um... I didn't hurt anybody, did I?"
"Well, you scared the crap out of a ton of people, but I don't think
anybody got hurt." He knelt down to tie his shoe. "Nice to know there's
another Chosen in the neighborhood besides me."
"You're a Chosen?" I can't believe I was already using that term. "What
do you do?"
He looked around, like he was looking for someone, but we were in a
very secluded part of the outside of the school, just outside the
football field fence. He then turned back to me, stood up, and
suddenly, I was looking down at him again, despite his having stood up.
I looked down at my feet and saw that I wasn't on the ground!
"I'm a telekinetic. My real name's Colin, but you can call me Hold-Up."
"Hold-Up? Could you have chosen a lamer name?"
He lowered me. "I'm pretty sure you didn't pick yours, either. What did
the alien chick tell you, 'Blast-Off'?"
So, learning a crappy fake name wasn't an isolated incident. Maybe
every Chosen was like that. "Quake, actually. But don't ever call me
that. Monica, my name's Monica."
"Yeah, you're a cop's niece, right? I've seen you before."
"I'm going ot assume you also had a very... well... interesting
experience that day, too? You're a guy, so I'm going to guess you were
a girl before it happened, right?"
He nodded. "Yup. From what my cousin tells me - he's a Chosen, too, by
the way - all of us swapped genders. It doesn't make sense, but, hey,
it's the place we're stuck in. I'm not complaining."
I sat down on the ground, back against the wall. "How come?"
He sat down beside me. "When I was changed, I was in the middle of
bein' raped. Stupid ass racists, thought they could get a few notches
in their belt raping a black girl. Then that woman showed up, they all
got scared, and I was saved. Then, I was a guy." He sighed. "The things
I did to them with my powers... I regret it now, but I didn't then."
I felt sorry for him. That's a traumatic experience. I was just
threatened with rape, they didn't actually do it. "I was almost raped
that day, too. Bunch of Upscales. Told me they'd do it if I didn't use
my powers to help them."
He turned to me. "And did you?"
I nodded.
"You regret it?"
"Every day." I sighed. "One of 'em rides the bus with us. He's a major
asshole, but I haven't done anything to stop him, since I can't control
my powers."
Colin stood up, held his hand out to help me up. "C'mon."
I took his hand and stood up. "Why? We should really get to class."
He shook his head. "Nope. You need to learn how to better control your
powers, and I want some practice with mine. We're heading out to the
docks to train. Nobody'll care about some splashes or missing crates."
I sighed again. "I hope this isn't a bad idea."
He smiled. "Trust me."
***
Henry Harkins was roused out of his light nap by the sounds of the
sirens kicking on. He looked over at Holly, who was driving, and asked,
"What's going on?"
She smiled. "Just got a call about some suspicious activity by the
docks. Maybe it's those Delancy Street slugs we didn't catch last
week."
He yawned. "Just so long as you take it easy on the way there. Last
time I rode with you, I nearly lost my asshole."
She chuckled. "Cappy, that doesn't even make sense."
My daughter swings on webs and crawls walls. My life doesn't have a
whole lot of sense anymore.
***
Colin lifted the crate I was standing on, which made me lose my
balance. "Hey!" I shouted. "Put me the hell down!"
He laughed. "Just havin' a little fun, is all!"
"Well have fun without scaring the shit out of me!"
"Sorry!" He set the crate back down, and I jumped off of it and pushed
him into the cargo container behind him. "Oooh! You wanna wrassle?"
"Don't be a dick, Colin! I could make your stomach explode, y'know."
"Yeah, but you won't."
"Wanna bet?"
"You're too cute to kill somebody on purpose."
I blushed. "Stop that."
He leaned down, kissed me on the cheek, then walked back over to the
edge of the dock. "Okay, let's see if I can't pull something out of the
water. I do that, you blow it up, okay?"
I shook off my little girly moment and nodded. "Use the Force, buddy,
use the Force." He stuck his tongue out at me. He looked forward again
and reached out with one hand, and a glowing purple aura appeared under
the water. It was a crate he'd thrown in as soon as we got to the
docks. He looked like he was struggling, I noticed. Maybe it was the
inherent pressure under the water, even though there couldn't have been
a whole lot of pressure right there. Not like out in the ocean, anyway.
He held out his other hand and the purple aura glowed a little more
brightly, and I finally saw the aura moving. I watched it emerge from
the water and then I held out my own hand. "Here goes somethin'," I
said. I concentrated on that box, that box, and then scared the crap
out of myself when the box behind me exploded, sending wooden splinters
straight up into the air. Colin dropped the other crate back into the
water.
"Whoa! Maybe you should concentrate a little less, Ms. 'Splodey."
I was about to say something before somebody whistled. I looked toward
the direction of the sound and saw Aunt Holly and Captain Harkins
standing there, both with their weapons drawn, though Captain Harkins
was putting his away. Aunt Holly, however, looked like she wanted to
shoot me.
"Oh, crap..." I whispered.
***
Captain Harkins sat across the table from me, but I wasn't looking at
him. I was looking down at the my oddly handcuff-less hands. I heard
him sipping coffee, or something (if it was coffee, I don't know why,
it's freaking a hundred degrees outside), but I wasn't really paying
attention to anything.
Until he snapped his fingers. "Oh, Monica," he said, dragging my name
out in a sing-song-y way. "Or, I guess I could call you 'Quake', but
your aunt tells me you don't wanna hear that name anymore."
I looked at him. "I'm in a lot of trouble, aren't I?"
He had his feet propped up on the table, looking very relaxed. "Define
trouble. You blew up several empty cargo crates, your boyfriend dropped
about a half dozen more into the water and probably killed a few fish
in the process, what exactly did you do wrong?"
"Vandalism? Terrorism? Trespassing? C'mon, I had to do something!"
He raised an eyebrow. "You seem like you're really hot to go to jail,
little girl."
I sighed. "I did something wrong! What else are you gonna do to me?"
He sat forward. "Okay, this is weird. I get dozens of normal people
coming through here every day, none of them ever want to be on your
side of the table, facing what it is you want to face, but for some
reason, you want to be punished for not even doing anything? Look, your
aunt's pissed off at ya, ain't that enough?"
I buried my head under my arms on the table. "Why do you think I wanna
go to jail?"
As if on cue, Aunt Holly opened the door. "Cappy, can I talk to her
alone?"
He stood up. "First, lemme talk to you alone." And then, they both left
the room.
***
Harkins led Holly into his office and shut the door. "First off, what
the hell are you doing to that girl? She'd rather go to jail than go
home."
She sighed. "I've been a little hard on her, lately. Look, Cappy,
she's... well... not normal."
He raised an eyebrow. "That all you can say? I got that three weeks ago
when she blew up a bank." He sat down behind his desk. "Look, Holly,
everything I tell you right now has to be between us, and us alone."
She looked confused. "Whaddya mean?"
"I mean, seriously, nothing here gets repeated outside this office
unless you're talkin' to your niece." He leaned forward in his chair.
"Dealing with a Chosen - especially a teenage one - is a tough road."
She sat down in one of the chairs on the other side of his desk. "How
did you know that?"
He raised his eyebrow again. "Really? We've worked with Guardian a
dozen times in the last three weeks, I saw Monica blow up half a
building, we just saw her blow up some shipping crates and you really
want to know how I know they're called 'Chosen'?" He sat back in his
chair. "I know, because Charlie's a Chosen."
"Your daughter? That little girl is a Chosen?"
"I'm going to have to learn your definition of little some other time,
because Charlie's about six weeks away from her sixteenth birthday.
Yes, she's a Chosen. Arachnya, actually."
Holly scoffed. "And she just happens to be the one with the tacky
choice in costumes."
"I'll be sure to tell her you said that next week during Bring-Your-
Daughter-to-Work Day." He sighed. "Look, Charlie and Monica go to the
same school, and maybe the two of them can get together some time and
Charlie can help Monica along. Charlie's got a pretty good handle on
her powers, maybe she can help your niece get a handle on hers."
"Wait, if Charlie's Arachnya, then that means that she was at the bank
three weeks ago, right?"
"Yes."
"That means that Charlie and Monica have already met."
He waved his hands. "Look, I'm not sayin' they have to be best friends,
or anything, especially since Charlie's got an after-school job taking
pictures for the Brigade. But, maybe Charlie's limited experience in
super heroing can help Monica along."
Almost as if on cue, Monica burst through the doorway. "Aunt Holly!"
she nearly screamed.
"What?" both Holly and Harkins said, concerned and annoyed,
respectively.
"There's somebody here in the building, and they're watching me."
"There's a security camera in the interrogation room," Harkins
explained. "Speaking of, what the hell are you doing out of the
interrogation room?"
Monica shook her head. "Unless the cameras can project thoughts into
your mind, that's not what I'm talking about."
***
Josh waited twenty-four hours before deciding to leave his closet. He
got a pretty good surprise when he opened the closet door to see every
light in his room turn on at exactly the same moment. He looked around
and got a scare when he saw that two of the three lamps in the room
weren't even plugged in.
What just happened? he thought, in his new female inner voice. That
would take some getting used to. Did I do that? He dismissed that
thought as soon as it emerged. There was no way he could have done it.
He slowly opened his bedroom door and moved out into the hallway. The
rest of the house was quiet, almost like it was empty. He looked down
the stairs and saw that few lights were on. He slowly descended the
stairs and found that no one else was in the house. His parents were
gone, and he was the only person in the house. Where did they go? he
asked himself.
He got his answer a minute later when he found a note on the
refrigerator. Josh, we couldn't get you out of your room to tell you
that we had to go visit your aunt out in California. his mother's
handwriting read. We should be back sometime later this week. There's
money in the safe in case you need any groceries. Be good, be back
ASAP. Mom.
He sighed. They always leave me alone. I had to be both the parent and
the student at my parent/teacher conference last semester. He shouldn't
have been surprised. He was more surprised that they didn't even care
enough about him to open his bedroom door to see if he was alright.
Josh walked into the bathroom to get a look at his new form. In place
of the awkward-looking just-starting-his-teenage-years boy that he had
been, he saw an awkward-looking just-starting-her-teenage-years girl.
Unlike a few of the other girls his age who had already started
developing into the young women they would eventually be in high
school, he looked like a ten year old who stuffed a training bra.
He sighed again. His new body was going to take some getting used to.
Mentally, that is. For some reason, he didn't feel any different,
despite the obvious differences. It was a complete reversal from the
day before, when everything felt different. What exactly had changed in
twenty-four hours of crying and depression?
He walked back into the kitchen, grabbed the milk, grabbed a glass, and
sat down on the couch and switched on the TV. He would have to figure
things out, starting with how he was going to deal with his new female
form, with how he was going to explain it all to his parents. He had no
actual explanation, so he hoped something would happen to explain it to
him
As Josh sat on the couch, watching TV, he failed to notice the rest of
the lamps turning on by themselves, along with the street lights
outside flickering out.
***
Guardian spotted him the night before, but the man had gotten away far
quicker and far quieter than he'd expected him to. This time, Guardian
had the drop on the stranger, and landed gently on the rooftop behind
him.
It wasn't until he spoke that Guardian realized he'd never really had
the drop on him. "I heard you a mile away," the stranger said, folding
his small binoculars and putting them in his belt. "You're not exactly
subtle."
Guardian shook his head. "Batman, I assume?"
The stranger turned around, exposing the fact that he had no comic
book-esque symbol on his chest. "You've got the right idea. You can
call me Knight."
"Knight, huh? Creative."
Knight smiled. "I didn't have the benefit of a beautiful woman
whispering my new name in my ear. Unlike you, I don't have any super
powers."
Guardian raised an eyebrow. "Coulda fooled me."
"That's what they all say."
"So, what are you doing here?"
Knight walked up to him. "I came here to find you, actually."
***
Svetlana Narekova was being watched. She knew because it was a skill
she'd honed over the years. Before she was a Chosen, before she'd gone
to work for Gustav Hammond as a hitman under the guise of a copy boy,
before she'd even joined the Russian Mafia, it was a skill she'd
developed on the streets of Stalingrad, back when the city still went
by that name. Modern day Volgograd was supposed to be a better place,
but she still felt exactly the same when she walked those streets.
She still felt the feelings now, as she walked the streets of East
City.
She didn't look around, she didn't react as if she knew she was being
watched, she simply went about her business. She didn't want to tip off
whoever it was watching her, otherwise she'd never be able to get the
drop on them. She followed the precise way she was going to take back
to Mr. Hammond's office, and as soon as she was out of sight of anyone
else, teleported away.
She reappeared behind the man responsible and grabbed him by the
collar. "It's not polite to spy on a lady, wise guy!" She then felt her
eyes widen in surprise when she saw his eyes. Completely gold colored,
not even the slightest hint of an iris or a pupil. "What are you,
another Chosen?"
He pushed her hands off of his collar and stepped back. He chuckled.
"So, that's what we're called. Three weeks of finally being able to see
again, and I've never known."
"What do you want?"
He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Yours appears to be teleporting,
while my own gift is insight, as well as farsight. I was blinded in a
car accident when I was a little..." he smirked, "a little girl."
Svetlana folded her arms under her breasts. "You think I don't know
that we've all been transgendered?"
"Still. It can be quite a shock hearing that it happened to someone
else as well as yourself." He walked forward a little, stopping behind
her. She didn't turn to face him, nor did he to face her. "I wasn't
actually in either vehicle, I was running home from school, took a
shortcut, a white Ford Bronco collided with a tanker truck carrying
some sort of radioactive fluid, or so I seem to remember."
Svetlana smirked. "I've seen that movie."
"It's no movie, my dear. The last thing I saw was a frightened woman in
a white truck cradling her children. Each one of them, and the driver
of the tanker, walked away without any serious injury. I was reliant on
a cane and braille the rest of my life." He finally turned. "Until
three weeks ago. GoldenEye, she called me."
Svetlana scoffed. "You choose to go by that ridiculous name? I tossed
mine away."
He leaned close to her. "What was it?"
"I told you, I tossed it away. Even if I wanted to remember, it doesn't
matter."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk... Disappointing, dear lady."
She was getting angry. "Alright, buddy, 'fess up. What the hell do you
want from me?"
He didn't answer for awhile, he simply stood there, smiling. Svetlana
was about to punch him, until he finally said, "Gustav Hammond wants to
break in on the super powered crimes scene? He's going to need more
than a Lady Teleporter on his side. Go back and ask him just how
valuable someone who can peek into people's souls can be." With that,
he hopped up on the building ledge and then jumped down to the street.
She had to admit, quite an amazing feat, considering they were about
sixty stories up.
She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. "Mr. Hammond?
Someone has a proposition for you. I hope you refuse."
***
Captain Harkins and Aunt Holly followed me back into the interrogation
room, where I heard the voices. We all looked around and saw absolutely
nothing. It didn't surprise me, there had been no one in the room
before I went to get them, but some part of me wanted there to be
someone or something here.
Aunt Holly shut the door. "So, what exactly was it that set you off,
anyway?"
I pointed at the chair I had been sitting in. "I was sitting right
there and then somebody started talking to me. They asked me why I was
sitting in this room, and what could they do to help."
Captain Harkins pulled a walkie from his belt. "This is Captain
Harkins, front door, is anybody there?"
The voice on the other end said, "No sir. A couple people are
complaining about hearing things, but that's about it."
"What are they hearing?"
"Voices, Cap."
He stuffed his walkie back in its holder. "So, you're not the only one,
it seems. Sounds like another Chosen is screwing around with people out
there." He walked over to me and shoved me back down in the chair.
"Wait, listen, if they talk to you again, tell us exactly what they
say."
I looked up at him, then over to Aunt Holly. She nodded, I sighed. Time
to prove my worth, I guess. I sat there for a long time, waiting for
whoever it was to contact me again. Time passed. At one point, Aunt
Holly went out to get some doughnuts while Captain Harkins and I just
sat, waiting for the mystery voice. I asked to go to the restroom once,
but I didn't get to. Luckily, I didn't need to go all that badly, I
just held it in.
About two hours later, the voice finally spoke again. They want to know
where I am, don't they?
"The voice asked if you want to know where they are," I said,
surprising Aunt Holly and waking Captain Harkins.
"Damn right we wanna know where they are," Captain Harkins said. "And
who they are."
The voice said, Who we are isn't important, yet. That will be revealed
in time. What's important, is that you all come to nineteen-sixty
Westmoreland Avenue, in the Hills outside the city. The police officers
may come with you if they choose.
"Nineteen-sixty Westmoreland Avenue, in the Hills. Whoever it is wants
us, and said you and Aunt Holly can come, if you want."
Captain Harkins narrowed his eyes at me. "Who's 'us'?"
***
Colin was sitting with his hands behind his head, feet propped up on a
small table in front of the bench in the station lobby. I sighed.
"Really?"
He shrugged. "What? I've been waitin' for your aunt and Spider-Girl's
dad to hurry up and finish talking to you."
Captain Harkins grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his feet.
"Keep it down with the 'Spider-Girl's dad' crap, kid. Just because you
ain't in a cell doesn't mean I can't put you there for pissing me off."
"Isn't that illegal?"
"Only if the paperwork doesn't add up."
"So what if they know you're Spider-Girl's dad? Frank told me
everything about her."
Aunt Holly smiled. "Not her name, obviously."
I sighed. "Can we just get going? Whoever this woman was, she seemed
pretty adamant that we get to nineteen-sixty Westmoreland as soon as
possible."
Captain Harkins turned to me. "How'd you know it was a woman?"
I shrugged. "I dunno. Something about it just screamed 'woman'. It's
not exactly a normal sensation, having a person talk to you in your
head. So, can we just go, now?"
Captain Harkins shrugged, and then led the rest of us out the door,
where we were greeted by a girl with brown hair. Not just any girl with
brown hair, either, but the one I bumped into at school a few days ago.
I have no idea why this thought popped into my head, no idea what made
me think this, but I just knew that this was Spider-Girl. She looked a
little like her dad, anyway.
Her arms were folded under her breasts. "Mom's pissed at you again,
Dad," she said.
He set his hands on her shoulders. "What is it this time? Did I leave
my aftershave in the shower again?"
"Something about working late for the third night in a row."
He sighed. "Look, kiddo, I'll duke it out with your mother when I get
home tonight. Right now, I have to get going."
She looked at all of us. I wondered if she could recognize me as the
purple-haired girl that called her a powderpuff, but she didn't say
anything if she could. "Where are you going?" she asked.
He raised his hands. "Sorry, sweetie." He tapped her press badge
hanging from her neck. "Not something I can tell a distinguished member
of the Brigade."
She sighed. "Just because I've helped out on a few stories doesn't mean
I'm a reporter, I'm still just a photographer."
"Still. I can't tell you, it's offical police business."
She looked over at us again. "Including your old partner, Frank's
cousin, and Quake?"
I turned red-faced, I'm sure. She could tell who I was.
"Look, snookums, just get to work, okay? I'm sure this'll end up in the
news at some point. Whatever the hell it is we're gonna find at where
ever we're going is likely to come out to the press or something. Just
be patient, okay?"
I looked over at Aunt Holly and saw her look away. Here was a Chosen
and her parental figure, and despite the fact that he was trying to
avoid a conversation, Spider-Girl was being patient with him. Aunt
Holly had been less than patient with me ever since this all happened.
Granted, I'd blown up a bank, while Spider-Girl had been nothing but a
civil servant in what she'd done, so there was quite a bit of
difference there, but still, the closest thing I had to a mom was
treating me like I was the black sheep of the universe.
I didn't blame Aunt Holly for how she treated me, but that didn't mean
I wouldn't appreciate some family love and bonding every now and then,
like Spider-Girl was getting. I laughed to myself. There I was, getting
jealous of a freaky wall-crawler that gunked up my face with webs one
time. I wondered if Spider-Girl would be willing to spend some time
with a fellow former-guy, just hanging out. I just hoped that her sense
of humor was dedicated solely to under the mask, because her jokes
weren't all that funny.
Spider-Girl sighed. "Okay, Dad. See ya when you get home." And with
that, she reached out and hugged her father, and I turned away. I'd
never had that kind of a relationship with my father. Granted, the two
years I'd known my father before he died, I was a boy, and two years
old. I don't even remember him, anymore, or my mother. The only parent
I'd ever had was Aunt Holly, and I'd never even had that kind of a
relationship with her.
***
The ride to nineteen-sixty Westmoreland was pretty uneventful. Colin
and I sat in the back, while Captain Harkins slept in the passenger
seat and Aunt Holly drove. I couldn't stop thinking about Spider-Girl
(who's name, I learned on the drive, was Charlie) and her relationship
with her dad. It made me depressed.
Colin elbowed me in the arm. "What's wrong with you?"
I shook my head. "Nothing. I'm fine. Just thinking about stuff I
probably shouldn't be thinking about."
"Liiiiiiike?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm not telling you."
"C'mon! I'm interested, aren't girls supposed to like that?"
I smirked. "You used to be one, shouldn't you know that?"
He held up his hands like he was surrendering. "Okay, okay, I give up."
I giggled, despite my best efforts not to. I'm not the most tomboyish
girl out there, but I still didn't want to be as feminine as I
sometimes felt I was acting. I was still trying to adjust to skirts.
"Y'know, you act pretty at home being a guy now."
He shrugged. "I had a lot of practice. I grew up with three brothers. I
wasn't the girliest girl in the world. Hell, I didn't even own a doll
until I was twelve years old. My family and I would visit my cousins,
and I'd feel like the outsider, because they were both pretty feminine,
and I wasn't." He looked down at my shorts. "Believe it or not, I never
wore a pair of shorts like that in my life. My mom thought I was weird,
but my brothers thought I was the only cool girl they'd ever met." He
slumped a little in his seat and slid his hands behind his head. "What
about you? You don't exactly act like you're tearing yourself up having
a vagina now."
I rolled my eyes. Why'd he have to put it that way? I caught a glimpse
of Aunt Holly smirking in the rear-view mirror. "I'm... well... I'm
not, exactly. I can't explain it. Maybe this whole mental transition
slipped itself in while I was helping those Upscale assholes blow up a
bank, or maybe it just happened in my sleep."
He yawned a little. "Not all that surprising, really. My cousin, Frank,
he went through the same thing. He took to bein' a guy like a fish out
of water, same with Spider-Girl."
Surprising both of us, Captain Harkins spoke up: "If you're gonna talk
about my daughter, the least you can do is call her Arachnya. Spider-
Girl ain't her name. I tease her with it, sometimes. So does your
cousin. Remember that, Arachnya. It's not all that hard to remember."
"We're here, Cappy," Aunt Holly said, ending all the other
conversations. We each got out of the car and I looked up at the creepy
mansion that stood before us. I gulped. "This is the place," Aunt Holly
just had to state the obvious.
Come on inside, all of you, the voice in my head said. I didn't say
anything, I just started walking up to the big house. Aunt Holly and
Captain Harkins rushed to walk ahead of us, their weapons drawn. I was
a little relieved when they pulled their guns out, because this place
was scaring the crap out of me. I think Colin could tell, too, since he
grabbed my hand. I didn't even stop him.
We got up to the door, Captain Harkins opened it up, and we walked into
the house. The front hall looked like something out of a video game
from over ten years ago: two stories, a giant stairway, a big
chandalier overhead, extremely creepy. I walked up to the stairway and
stopped when I heard one of the doors along the sides of the room open.
We all looked in the same direction and saw a young man (maybe
nineteen, or so) pushing a wheelchair. In the wheelchair sat a woman
who looked to be about thirty/thirty-five. Her eyes darted back and
forth between all of us, but she didn't speak.
Well, at least, not with her mouth.
A computerized voice said, "Welcome, all of you. I apologize for not
getting up or shaking hands."
Captain Harkins stepped forward. "I assume you're the woman who called
the kids to you?"
"Yes, I am. My name is Erica Morris. You are Captain Henry Harkins,
your daughter is Charlotte Harkins, who calls herself Arachnya."
He nodded. "I am. Gotta tell you, though, the voice thing is a little
creepy."
The voice synthesizer spat out a very disturbing laughter. "I
understand, Captain. It has taken me all three weeks since the Event to
get used to it."
I asked, "You mean, you weren't like this before you were a Chosen?"
The young man answered me. "Ms. Morris' gift left her this way. She
almost instantly reached out to me so that she could have a sort-of
liason with everyone else."
"Thank you, Brandon," the woman's voice box said. I shivered just
listening to that weird voice. "Do not be alarmed, Monica. It is
something very easy to get used to."
Colin spoke up next, "Why'd you call us here, anyway?"
Brandon turned the woman's chair toward Colin. "I prefer to explain
that when everyone is here. I do not wish to repeat myself too often.
You can understand why." I saw her eyes dart up toward the ceiling.
"There are still two more on the way."
***
Hammond sat behind his desk and waited for the man Svetlana had met to
arrive. This GoldenEye intrigued him, though he saw no use for such a
man, even a Chosen. Svetlana was ready to do what needed to be done.
Hammond lit a cigarette and took a long puff just as the door to his
office opened and two individuals walked in, the man described to him
as GoldenEye, and a bald headed woman wearing skintight leather and a
domino mask.
"Gustav Hammond, it's a pleasure to meet you," GoldenEye greeted him,
his hand extended for a handshake, but Hammond denied him the pleasure.
"I'm sure Svetlana explained how I can help you."
Hammond leaned back in his seat. "She did, unfortunately, insight and
farsight aren't descriptive enough for me. Explain to me exactly what
you can give to my organization."
GoldenEye - Hammond could see now why he had earned that moniker, his
eyes were a pure gold color - sat down in the seat across the desk from
him. He stared for a moment or three, and then Hammond was getting
annoyed. Finally, GoldenEye said, "You grew up in Satan's Outhouse,
that colorful district just north of Granger Park. You claim to have
come from Kansas, but that's purely a cover, and a particularly
inadaquate one at that." He leaned back in his seat. "Easy to see
through if you know what to look for."
Hammond narrowed his eyes at the casual man before him. "Go on."
GoldenEye smiled. "You see, Mr. Hammond, I can read a person's very
soul, if not their mind itself. Things that anyone would want kept
secret just spill out to me, as if everyone were telling me their deep,
dark past." He reached over the desk and grabbed Hammond's cigarette
holder, then took one out. "That's how I knew that the beautiful Ms.
Narekova wasn't going to actually kill me, as you wanted."
As if she'd been told to enter the room, Svetlana appeared behind
Hammond. The look on her face suggested an apology, though Hammond
didn't need one. He understood completely.
"And what about your," he nodded his head toward the woman behind
GoldenEye, "companion?"
"Her name is Necro. Her gift involves speaking with the dead, finding
out what they know. She can convince any lost soul out there to spill
its beans and reveal things that these men were told they'd take to
their graves." He lit the cigarette that he'd taken. "Such as the hit
that Big Mike Richardson is planning against you, after that whole
debacle perpetuated by Arachnya."
Hammond snapped his fingers and Svetlana moved closer and knelt down.
"Find out if what he says is the truth, then kill Richardson."
GoldenEye smiled yet again. "Dead men tell no tales, Gustav."
"I don't seem to remember saying we were on a first name basis.
Especially when I don't know your first name."
GoldenEye stood. "Ah, but you will. I can tell this is going to be the
beginning of a beautiful friendship, Gustav. You know how?"
Hammond smiled. "Because you looked into my soul?"
GoldenEye snapped his fingers. "Exactly." At that, he and Necro turned
and walked out of the room.
Hammond and Svetlana both remained where they were. "I want to know
everything there is to know about GoldenEye, and I want to know
yesterday."
Svetlana could only nervously nod. She didn't like the situation at
all.
***
The former Josh Reston had to decide on a new name, because, try as he
might, he couldn't make Josh sound like a female name. He was laying on
the couch, his longer hair reaching the floor, because he was upside
down. He held a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other and had
about sixteen female names written down, and didn't like any of them.
The one he could stand the most (and that wasn't saying much) was
Amber, but that didn't fit him all that much.
He sighed. He tossed the notepad on the coffee table and hopped off the
couch. He needed to go for a walk, that would help. He ran up the
stairs to his room and slipped into something other than his sleep
clothes. Luckily, for him, his naturally skinny frame (even before his
change) meant that his old clothes would fit, he'd just look like a
tomboy. He ran into his parents bedroom and grabbed one of those hair
things (he was pretty sure they were called scrunchies) and pulled his
hair into a make-shift ponytail. He didn't look horrible, but he did
look like a tomboy.
He walked out and immediately set off in the direction of East City. He
didn't know why, he just picked that direction and started walking.
There was nowhere else in particular that he wanted to go. Larsen City
wasn't exactly the High Point of the United States. More like the
garbage pit, really.
He walked for more than an hour before he realized that the street
lights had been flickering between on and off behind him the whole way.
He stopped and just watched the lights, then, when nothing happened, he
moved closer to one of them. That was when the weird thing happened. He
touched the nearest light pole and electricity shot through him. He
stepped back and watched the lamp on the end of the pole glow brightly,
then fade out.
What just happened?! he asked himself. He looked down at his feminine
hands and saw tiny bolts of electricity course between his fingers. He
walked back to the light pole and touched it again, this time, the
light stayed on. Did I do that?
"Dude," a voice from behind him roused him out of his confused stupor,
"did you just make that light come on with your hands?" Josh turned
around and saw a shaggy-haired junkie wearing a paper bag over his
crotch. Oh, great... "Hey, did you know you're a chick?"
Josh just walked past him and ignored him. "Got no time to talk to you,
buddy, and I don't have any money to give you for whatever it is you're
smoking. Gotta go." He continued on his way across the John Adams
Bridge, the main bridge linking Larsen City to East City. He was lucky
enough to not cause any more mysterious lighting screw-ups, and
eventually found himself in a KFC, standing in line. He ordered chicken
strips then sat down at an empty table and ate in silence.
The meal was quiet, uneventful, slow, boring. He ate slowly, as if to
stretch out the meal. When he was done, he simply threw away his trash
and left. No one noticed him, he didn't accidentally cause a power
outage (could he do that?), it was normal
Then he walked outside.
"Hey there, chickie chickie," said the Delancy Street thug that pulled
him around the corner of the building and grabbed for his pants. He
reached in and sniffed Josh's hair. "You smell nice!"
Thank you CBS special, I guess all the street gangs in East City are
obcessed with raping girls. He kneed the guy in the stomach, then
pushed him away. "I don't give a crap how I smell, stay away from me!"
Josh cracked his knuckles. "You guys really aren't smart, are you? You
dress and act like a stereotypical street gang, and your primary action
is to rape a minor? Are you trying to go for life in prison?"
The gang member was about to pull a knife, but he stopped for some
reason that Josh couldn't see, at least until he looked up. There, like
some sort of mythical figure, was Guardian, floating in the air. Oh,
wow... Josh internally smacked himself. And here I am looking like a
star-struck thirteen year old girl, which, I guess, I am, seeing as
I've never seen a real live super hero before.
"I hope this man isn't bothering you, young lady," Guardian said,
landing and putting his foot down on top of the thug's chest. "That was
a good knee to his stomach."
Josh blushed. "Um... Thanks."
***
Angel enjoyed yet another view of the city at night. This time,
however, she wasn't alone. She knew that the man known as Knight was
following her, though she didn't say anything. She merely sat on the
roof of the SetLife building and sighed to herself. "Why is it that
women can still surprise me, but men can't?" she asked, likely
surprising him. "You'd think having become one, women would be such an
open book for me, but they're not. I'm still just as clueless about my
gender as I was when it was the opposite gender."
Knight walked up beside her and stared out at the city with her. "How
long did you know I was there?"
She smiled. "I landed on this roof for a reason. I knew you'd be here,
William, I knew you'd be looking for me."
He turned his head toward her just a bit. "I thought you only knew
about Chosen."
Angel stood up. "You were Chosen, a Chosen of a different sort. Not all
of our forms were incorrect, All a Chosen like you needed was to be
inspired, and it obviously worked."
He turned his head back to the city. "If you know about me, I'm
assuming you know about my plans."
She walked away from the edge of the roof. "I do. It's bold, but not
unreasonable, especially since someone else is doing the same thing,
but with the bad Chosen."
Knight narrowed his eyes. "Someone else?"
She folded her arms under her breasts and sighed. "I can't tell you
who, and I can't tell you where, just that I know it's happening. My
gift doesn't allow me to stop the evil before it starts." She turned
and looked at him. "I'm not even like you."
He walked over to her. "No one's like me, it's what makes me unique.
Your gift makes you unique, and we could use that gift on our team."
She sighed again, but did not say anything for a long time. When she
finally did speak, her voice was soft, and quiet. "I can't help you,
William. I'm sorry."
He nodded his head, then walked back to the edge of the roof. "Can't
say I'm surprised." He took a device from his belt, then pointed it at
the rooftop of another building. "That doesn't mean I'm done asking.
We'll need you."
Angel looked away from him again, but she did not speak. She couldn't.
She knew the potential future of these men and women. Perhaps they
would need her, but she couldn't take the risk of the other potential
futures.
Such as the one where her joining the team would kill them.
***
Aaron Dahl looked at his girlfriend, Annette Simms and wondered, not
for the first time, how they both ended up as Chosen. Of all the other
Chosen he'd seen in the newspapers or on television, none of them
seemed to have any sort of connection, but Aaron - formerly Erin - and
Annette - fromerly Anthony - had been lovers before and remained lovers
after that fateful day. It was an extremely lucky circumstance.
Annette slowly sipped at her coffee across the table from him. "You
don't seem all to focused on anything in particular," she said, the
hint of sarcasm in her voice more than obvious. "What's on your mind,
A?"
He smiled at her little nickname for him. Even when he'd been Anthony,
she'd had a nickname for the man once known as Erin. Little E he'd call
her, because of her size as well as her almost obcessive love of Dale
Earnhardt Junior. A was simply the first letter of Aaron's new name,
but he enjoyed that part of their former lives returning, since nothing
else had remained.
He finally answered her, "Nothing, really, just focusing."
She smiled. "Remember the last time you just focused? I don't want a
black hole in the bedroom again, sweetie."
He snickered. His powers had been difficult to control at first, but
they had been nothing compared to Annette's. He couldn't count the
amount of times he'd woken up in the middle of the night thanks to a
nightmare she'd inadvertantly given him. The nature of her powers were
to create scenarios that caused extreme fear and instability.
Unfortunately, the only test subject she'd had was him, and that had
led to some slight strain.
He reached across the table and cupped his hand over hers, she smiled
at him. "I love it when you do that," she said.
Aaron was about to say something, but then he heard the explosion. The
two of them stood and looked in the direction of the sound and saw fire
spilling out of the Bank of America on sixty-third street.
He looked back at her. "Time to go to work, babe."
She smiled at him. "Of course it is."
***
Svetlana wasn't fond of the ski mask over her face, but she understood
the neccesity. They didn't want anyone connecting her to Mr. Hammond,
after all. That was also the reason for the skin-tight leather she was
wearing. It was Necro's idea, and not one that Svetlana liked. Clearly,
Necro was still into women.
GoldenEye walked behind the two women. Necro carried the grenade
launcher, while Svetlana carried a pai