The sharp bite of nails dug into my palms, hands clenching as I waited for the crowd to disperse. It had only taken a split second’s glance to find all the targets to choose from, but I couldn’t act yet. Not until the people crowding the jewelry store cleared out. Leave already.
They didn’t, of course. Continuing to pace aimlessly through the store, the figures took their sweet time for whatever they’d come there to do. A mix of different shapes, outfits and faces, there was one theme that unified them: they were wealthy. Their clothes were decorated with gold or other expensive looking material and they didn’t seem to have a care in the world.
The jewelry store itself shone with polish before you even took the gold, silver and gemstones into account. Spotless glass windows rose from the ground all the way to the top of the first floor, letting natural light from the midday sun flood in. There wasn’t a stray speck on the display cases either. If one of the customers dared to leave a fingerprint on the glass, they’d probably be executed on the spot. Or something. I noted the deep scarlet carpet. Pretty close to the color of blood. It went well with the dark mahogany of the tables and shelves the display cases sat on.
By contrast, the convenience store I was standing in was dusty and run down. Cobwebs dangled from the cracks between the ceiling panels and I suppressed a groan at the dust gathering on my denim jacket. Leaning by the window only got more and more uncomfortable, but it gave me a clear view of the jewelry store across the street. The aisles here were narrow and it felt like there was just as much alcohol and nicotine on the shelves as anything else. Vodka bottles, cigarette box, soda can, beer pack, potato chip bags, chewing tobacco. Pacing back and forth wouldn’t help. Not to mention I definitely didn’t want to make eye contact with the greasy guy behind the counter.
My eyes wandered along the street outside instead. The whole side of the block I was on was just as run-down as this shitty corner store. The buildings had to be well over a century old and had gotten little care since. Rosden City touted their redevelopment initiatives, but they only touched places like the shopping strip the jewelry store was part of. Places that were already profitable.
As I scanned the jewelry store again, I noticed the crowd had cleared out a bit. Finally. I spotted a glass case nestled in one the tall shelves behind the checkout counter. It was about the size of a small briefcase, maybe a bit smaller. Inside it was a variety of gemstones in red, blue and pale whites. I couldn’t name them, but it would do.
My attention narrowed on the case, locking its image in my mind with a faint mental snap. There was a vibration at the edges of my consciousness and the sensation of holding something flooded through my body. The same moment, there was an imperceptible blur around the case. It vanished, leaving only an empty space in the spot it sat a split second ago.
No sound, no alarm. Everything carried on inside the jewelry store as normal. Once they noticed the case was nowhere to be found it’d get interesting, but I’d be long gone by then. Well, not that the gemcase was nowhere. It was somewhere, even if I still couldn’t define exactly where that somewhere was.
The case floated in a tight pocket of space that I could sense by reaching out with my mind, as if it was adjacent to my consciousness. I thought again about how I’d even start to explain it if I ever told someone. The space didn’t look like anything. It wasn’t something I could see, only feel. The thought was scrapped as soon as it came up. Telling people only brought risks. I can take care of myself.
I turned to walk towards the exit of the convenience store, idly shuffling through the other things I held with my power. My wallet, keys, lighter and switchblade were all tucked away safely in my “pocket”. A jangle of chimes sounded behind me as I went through the door to step outside. After being stuck in the stuffy store for so long the crisp fall air felt good. It would’ve been nice to stake out anywhere else, but inside had been inconspicuous, as well as right around the thirty meter-ish range I had to grab stuff with my power. I couldn’t help but yawn, stretching my arms above my head. With a roll of my shoulders, I stuck my hands in my jacket’s pockets and made my way down the block.
The outskirts of downtown Rosden were sparsely populated in the early afternoon. Monday, I reminded myself. The city was never as crowded as NYC, but the less people around to deal with the better. Metallic high rises gave way to old stone and brick as I walked along the start of the industrial area. Something cold brushed against the back of my fingers, and I realized my left hand had reached out to trace the wall beside me. It belonged to just another run-down building. The surface felt hard, uncomfortable. My fingers lingered there anyway. As I walked past the building's corner, my hand hung in the empty air as it left the surface before slowly falling back inside my pocket.
A homeless woman sat on a shoddy blanket at the end of the block I was walking. Her eyelids drooped, so much that I almost thought she was asleep before I got closer. Money for food, I read to myself off a piece of cardboard held loosely against her legs. The few people who walked past her kept a brisk pace, heads held straight forward. Glancing across the street, I saw a small cafe with sandwiches on display. I darted my head left and right. Abandoned soda cans, a few pigeons, some crumpled trash. No cars speeding through, which was the important part.
Crossing the street gave me a better look at the cafe. I could tell it was intended more for the untroubled people walking downtown than the residents of the industrial area from the prices alone. A colorful poster was plastered on the polished glass window with two costumed women, one older and one younger, posing triumphantly. Gravity Girl and Bend. It was silly that she still had “girl” in her name when she was the senior of the two, but such are hero names. This ad was new, different from the National Hero Association’s other ones all over Rosden. It’d be nice if they stopped caring so much about presenting a clean image. The bright colors were tacky.
I looked back at the selection of sandwiches on display through the window, and briefly saw my reflection staring back at me. A flash of wavy black hair in a style slightly longer than a pixie with bangs brushed across my forehead. Pale white skin made my sour expression stand out more than I wanted, and I made sure to look back at the sandwiches before I fixated too long on my jaw or shoulders. Seeing my go-to, the turkey club snapped into focus. I silently thanked the sky for not pouring rain today. If the windows were too foggy, I wouldn’t be able to see well enough to hold the image of it in my mind. With a brief flash of weight on my nerves, it floated in my “pocket” rather than sitting on the shelf.
I turned around and with another quick scan for any danger, crossed the street. With a thought, I reached out to find the sandwich among the other things tucked away by my power. The block was still mostly empty. I paced forward to get within the ten meter or so range I had to drop things, eyes set on an empty spot on the homeless woman’s blanket. It only took a little push. Releasing my mind’s hold on the sandwich as I urged it forward, it appeared right where my vision had locked on to. The woman didn’t notice or stir, even as the food sat right beside her. I continued walking, my head straight forward like the others as I passed her. I didn’t look back once she was behind me. It was for the best.
***
Ambling about deeper into the industrial district, an hour passed. There was time to burn before the meeting, but without any idea of what to use as tinder, it crept by at a glacial, painful pace. I eventually found myself sunk into a soft leather armchair, headphones gently cupping my ears as they blasted rock music inside my head. Shelves crammed full of records lined the wood paneled walls and gray carpeted floor. The basement store was cramped, but radiated warmth. Cozy. It was probably my favorite spot to hang out around where I lived. The only place, really. My eyes fell shut, letting the pounding of drums, frenzied vocals and echoing strums of guitar take me away.
A persistent buzzing from my pocket roused me from my almost meditative state. I let out a soft groan, wishing I could keep listening. I’d gone through three different records since I sat down. The alarm I set for myself gave me some leeway, but not enough to risk getting lost in the music again. As I hung the headphones up and lifted the needle, a part of me lamented having to acclimate back to the world. There was something comforting about the enveloping feel of the leather seat, the darkness as I closed my eyes and how the loudness surrounded me, making me feel my pulsing heart. I didn’t have to worry about others, being perceived and all the complications that followed. I didn’t-
“Heading out, Audrey?”
A familiar voice interrupted my train of thought. I finished tucking the records back into their jackets, carrying all three in my arms as I approached the counter.
“Yeah, heading out. I’ll buy these three.”
George Petterson gave me a slight smile, flashing a hint of his crooked teeth. I set the records down and he placed a worn hand over the pile to slide them closer to himself.
“I’ll ring ya right up. One sec.”
George was something of an exception. He was the owner of the building that sat atop the basement, an old-timey bar named Poseidon. The record store was a passion of his that he ran during the day while the bar was closed. It wasn’t well known and almost always empty when I would come around. That meant I could count on being able to plop right into the old leather chair in the corner for as long as I liked.
As he rattled off the total, I held my palm open low to the counter, out of his sight. With a brief exertion of my power, my wallet landed in my hand. He never asked why I wasn’t at school this time of day or why I always paid in cash. George would just ramble endlessly about the records I’d picked, going over the artist, genre of rock and its history. Most of it went over my head, but he was happy to talk and I was happy just to listen.
“I gotta batch of eighties metal that’ll come in next week. More obscure stuff, should all be new to you.” George presented me with another slight smile as he handed me a bag with my new records inside. I couldn’t help but smile a little right back.
“Appreciate the heads up, I’ll swing by to check them out.”
George’s smile grew, toothy and comfortable.
“I’ll have ‘em in the back with the rest of the rock section, right by your little spot. Take care of yourself, kiddo.”
The word kiddo brought an uncomfortable feeling close to the surface, but I guess it makes sense from a guy his age. George looked to be in his early fifties, threads of gray weaving through his light brown hair. He wore it in a combed-back, neat style. Smiles always brought a shine out of his long face, even when it sported a few creases.
“I will.”
Starting up the stairs outside, I looked down at the bag of records and my wallet. With narrowed eyes and that familiar buzz of weight, they both were tucked away in my “pocket”. As cool air blew through my hair and I stepped onto the street again, my hands were empty. A glance at my phone confirmed it was 4:50pm. Time to head to the meeting place.
***
Rusted cranes and hollow frames of aborted factories towered above me. My arms were tucked close to my chest, wrapping myself in the warmth of my denim jacket. The crisp air from earlier was becoming a more biting chill as the sun hung lower and lower in the sky. Wind whistled straight through the narrow streets, the sound of rustling trash preventing absolute quiet. Very few hung around the part of the industrial district closest to the river this late, yet here I was.
For a moment I was struck by jealousy of white-collar villains. It’d be nice to sink into a fancy, plush chair in some high-rise on the waterfront downtown to do my business. Maybe they’d even have a buffet with heaping helpings of warm food drenched with butter and sauce. My mouth almost watered at the thought, and I realized I was getting hungry. Off the top of my head, I couldn’t remember if I had anything for dinner in my fridge back home. I’ll get something hot on the way back.
I rounded a bend and a familiar warehouse came into view. A big, faded sign that reached above the building’s roof proclaimed to the world that it was Dale & Son’s. The world clearly didn’t give a shit. Of the dozen glass windows that lined its upper story, only one was intact. The windows that weren’t completely blown out had gaping holes marked with jagged edges of glass like glistening canine teeth. The red brick was sickly, wearing decades of neglect. A bulky man bundled in a long gray jacket stood by the front doors, and I gave him a casual nod of my head as I approached.
“Devin’s inside, the usual.”
I knew something was off as soon as I stepped through the doorway. Dim light filtered in through the shattered windows and spots where the wall had crumbled away. Two stories of neglected offices took up the back half of the warehouse. Devin and a few associates stood in the middle of what used to be a packaging floor. Now it was only dusty shelves, sparse except for some rusted tools and forgotten boxes, with an elevated metal walkway on the wall closest to the entrance. A man I didn’t recognize leaned against the short set of stairs up to the walkway, leveling me with a blank stare as I looked his way. There was a leather holster strapped around his gray work trousers, a smooth black handle poking out. Turning my gaze back towards Devin and the others, there was more than just the one. Belts or straps sat where there was normally just casual wear, jackets covering suspicious lumps of space. They didn’t usually carry.
A wave of chills ran down my back and I did my best to hold straight. I shoved down the part of me that wanted to turn around, leave and never come back. Project confidence. A cold determination settled on me, a numb feeling. I walked forward as the doors shut behind me with an echoing metallic clank.
“Yo, Audrey. How’re you doing?” Devin spoke in his usual self-assured, tenor voice. He wore a light smile that didn’t reach his eyes. They were dark brown, appearing almost black in this light, standing out from his beige skin.
“I’m alright.” I gave the answer I always did, stopping and letting my hands rest by my pockets once I stood a few paces away from him. He was only a little bit taller than me, maybe 5’9 or 5’10 to my 5’8. A navy blue track jacket hugged his upper body, showing off a decent amount of muscle. He was fit, but not stacked or anything. I was no slouch either. If it came down to me and him, putting both our powers aside, I had a decent shot at winning.
“Potential customer was looking for gemstones, right? We can run it through the usual store.” A gruff voice from one of the men beside Devin reminded me why I wasn’t going to test my luck. There were three standing around Devin, all almost a head taller, forming something of a semicircle.
“Yeah. That sounds like a plan.” Devin answered smoothly, head tilted slightly towards Brian, the one who had spoken. I remembered his name, he had been around some of the past meetings. Devin set his full attention back on me, and I met his eyes. “You brought the goods, yeah?”
“They’re with me. I’ll need the usual minute to take them out.” I lied. It would take less than a second to have the case from the jewelry store in my arms, but my powers were a mystery to Devin and his crew. I preferred to keep it that way.
“Go ahead.” Devin gave a polite nod, but none of them seemed particularly patient, standing in the middle of this fossil.
I made a deliberate show of closing my eyes, scrunching my face and flinching with a pain that wasn’t there. This part was easy enough to fake, I’d gotten plenty of searing headaches before from trying to hold more in my “pocket” than my mind could handle. The hard part was waiting a whole minute. Standing in darkness unsettled me, knowing that I was blind to Devin and the others. I had no idea why they were armed, what they wanted to do. Maybe they had another job today. Maybe it’s not for me. I knew the thought was stupid, but I wanted to hang onto it. Wanted to avoid thinking that they could be reaching out, cold fingers ready to grasp my jacket and pull me to the ground. The deafening crack of a gunshot, how easy it would be for one of them to pull the trigger. Done. Final.
The thought was like fire to my nerves and I fought to keep my eyes from shooting open. My life wasn’t much of anything right now, but I didn’t want to lose it. Fuck, how long has it been? A minute was a long time if you were waiting in place. I wanted to open my eyes, have this be done with, but I knew it was better to err on the long side than the short. Would it change anything if they knew I was full of shit? My mind whirled with the possibilities, but kept narrowing in on one end result- unimaginable pain, blood, death. I reached out with my power and found the jewelry case, preserved exactly as it was when I’d stolen it hours ago.
With a sharp intake of breath, I opened my eyes. Two of the men I didn’t recognize looked on with wide eyes as the case blurred into existence in my hands, standing right where they’d been before. No guns, no visible hint of violence. Devin and Brian seemed unamused, the former absently scratching his short black hair with distant eyes.
“Done.” I stated flatly, taking a step forward to hold out the case. Devin blinked and in an instant the focus in his gaze was back, boring into me before he looked down to take the case.
“Landon,” He called out, passing the gemstones to a muscle-bound associate with thinning brown hair and stubble. “Can you look them over to see what they might sell for?”
“On it Dev, might be a good few minutes.” Landon grunted in response, turning around and starting towards a table under one of the abandoned shelves off to the side. He’d only made it a few steps when he stopped in his tracks. “Fuck, nevermind that, I know what they’re worth. They’re straight from Missy’s downtown. How the-”
“We told you she’s good.” Devin chuckled in response, glancing from Landon back to me, a smirk creasing his lips. Coated in numbness, I couldn’t get any satisfaction out of that interaction. “Before we discuss your cut, that does raise the other thing I wanted to talk about.”
My heart stopped. My mouth pressed on with a response even as my body felt distant.
“What’s up?” Cold, calm. Everything I wasn’t.
“You may have heard some buzz about a new player in Rosden’s villain scene.” My head shook and Devin continued. “It’s true. We don’t know who exactly, but they’re making moves to bring a lot of the existing villains in the industrial district under them.”
“Why?” It didn’t make sense to me. The villains around here were mostly small-time, solo. Bulldog was the scariest one I could think of, and he wasn’t the type to follow anyone.
“Would probably help if I knew.” There was a waver in Devin’s voice, a crack in that mask of self-assured confidence. “But we need to make sure we keep our assets under control.”
He let his words hang in the air, a moment’s hesitation before he took a measured step towards me. I hastily retreated two steps, still facing him as he met my eyes with an intense stare.
“We can’t afford using a rogue who knows our operations. Not if they won’t commit.”
Commit. The word hung heavy. I didn’t know everything that falling in with Devin’s group would entail, but there wasn’t a shot I’d keep my independence.
“I want you to come with us, Audrey.”
“I can’t.” Final. Devin felt it too. I saw his lips twinge. The other men around him were deathly silent.
“Not an option. I didn’t want to do this, but-”
I spun on my heel and broke into a run towards the double doors I came in through. Immediately, I was met with the sight of the man who’d been leaning against the walkway barreling towards me. The gun that had startled me so effectively was still tucked in the holster around his leg. I could almost laugh at that. Instead, I saw the thick wooden baseball bat he gripped with both hands, raised above his head as he drew close. Baseball bat. As he swung downwards, it vanished from his control. The sudden change in weight caused him to stumble, and he landed on all fours next to me. With another thought, I pushed it from my "pocket" to land in my waiting hands, fingers curling around the gritty handle as I swung it down into his side. A muffled crunch spread through silence and the man crumpled flat against the floor.
Devin and the three other men were frozen in a brief moment of shock, my gaze darting over them to see widened eyes and slacked jaws. Then they began reaching down into jackets, hurried hands navigating straps and pockets to find their holsters. Now it’s time to worry about guns. The baseball bat clattered to the ground behind me as I resumed my run to the double doors, frenzied pants escaping my mouth. A resounding clang sounded from outside and the doors swung open to reveal the man in the long gray jacket who’d first greeted me, pistol in hand. I’d forgotten him in the panic.
Without thinking, my body dove to the staircase leading to the metal overhang. The first gunshot assaulted my ears. A crack split the air, echoing through the warehouse and immediately followed by a softer ping as the bullet struck the solid metal paneling along the walkway. With a hand tracing the back wall to steady myself, I scrambled along the overhang. A second shot, then a third. My attention spun around and found the gray jacketed man standing on the stairs, gun being raised. A sleek and dark little thing with a padded handle. My nerves buzzed and as his finger moved to curl around the trigger, his hand only balled to clutch at air. Pistol. With another push, it fit easily in my hand.
My arm raised the man’s gun back up to point at his chest, my breath whistling inside a hollow cage as I inhaled. A wave of nausea rose up inside me as the idea of taking his life collided with my detachment, yanking me back inside my cold body. I never wanted to see a dead body again. I would never cross that line. As I resisted the urge to double over and vomit, the man saw my hesitation and turned, running away.
Another gunshot broke my thoughts, a harsh ring raking both my ears as I kept myself low behind the metal paneling of the walkway. It led only to a wall, the short staircase being the sole way up and down.
“Dev, about time you do your thing, yeah?” Brian’s voice.
“Y-yeah.” I heard him stutter in response. Devin’s power wasn’t crazy on its own, but cramped in a tight space, facing a dead end, it was terrifying. Doing my best to stay out of sight, I hurried back towards the stairs.
A circle of the walkway between the stairs and I glowed, crackling with energy, and I froze in place. A pillar of heat and light shot upwards, searing a charred circle into the ceiling. The sudden brightness faded, but I knew better than to try dashing through the lingering buzz in the air. It’d burn me so badly I probably wouldn’t even make it out the door.
My sneakers started to crackle, then hiss and I lept backwards without any time to think about landing. My back crashed against the harsh metal of the walkway as another pillar speared upwards where I’d just been standing. I felt a wave of heat brush my legs and a sharp pain like bricks digging into my spine.
“I’m sorry, Audrey!” There was panic laced in Devin’s voice, rising above the cold grunts of the other men. My space on the walkway was rapidly shrinking.
Frustration welled up at this situation, myself, these bastards who were going to kill me. The only way to avoid being caught by Devin’s power was to jump down from the overhang into their waiting aim. My power worked fast, but I could only lock on to one thing at a time. I could grab one of the metal odds or ends lying around, maybe a heavy box on the way down, and drop it on their heads for all the good it’d do. I racked my brain for another strategy, but nothing came. If my power’s range to drop was as long as it’s range to grab, if I’d taken out Devin first, if I wasn’t a screwup who couldn’t handle-
A crash of glass jarred me back into the present. Surprised shouts from Devin and the others echoed through the warehouse. I peeked over the edge of the walkway and saw dyed cloth, plates of body armor and sleek masks. A huddle of figures stood defiantly under a newly shattered window. The last rays of the setting sun shone behind them as glass crunched beneath their boots. I recognized one from a tacky poster I’d looked at earlier today near downtown. Bend.
The heroes had arrived.