As there are a few Brave New World fans over here on BigCloset, and I don't want to let them down by waiting until all of Volume Two is posted before I bring some of it here, I've decided that I'm going to post the opening chapters of the four Volume Two stories so far as a sort of preview. At this moment, these four chapters are the only ones available anywhere, here and on TG Storytime. I hope you enjoy them.
Public Origins, Part One
Donnerville, Kansas
"I'm telling you, Mack, just watch the movie!" Freddy said, but I wasn't really eager to do what he asked. Pacific Rim was not going to be a highlight to me.
"But, two people to operate a mech? Why? How does that make the mech any more efficient than just one person piloting the mech?"
"Mechs versus giant monsters, man. It's the ultimate Gundam Versus Godzilla fight we'll never get to see!"
"That's what people on the internet said about Spider-Man joining the Avengers movies, but that's happening."
Freddy sighed and sat back in his seat. He shook his head, then ran a hand through his bright red hair. "Just watch the damn movie, you won't regret it."
I smirked and put my pen in my mouth like it was a cigarette. "So you keep saying."
The bell rang, I picked up my text book and shoved it in my book bag. Lunch always seemed shorter than it really was. It didn't help that occasionally, there would be people gossiping about this person or that person, usually about somebody disappearing because they were a Power. I didn't really care for any of that.
When I got to class, the TV in the corner was on, tuned to the news. Mrs. Gibbons always had the news on, since current events was always the beginning of the class. We would debate sides, discuss what we saw, and generally this was better than just learning from the text books, except for when we had to learn about Vietnam or Nixon or Eisenhower. She rewound the tape in the VCR (because, yes, some people still use those) when the entire class had arrived.
"Not a whole lot is new today," Mrs. Gibbons said. "There's another story on the Ukraine, and another one on the Safe Zone. We'll simply be watching one particular story, one that's pretty close to home." She pressed play.
The newscaster: "Good afternoon. Just a quick update on a story we brought you earlier on in this hour, the Power Regulatory Commission was called to six hundred fifty-six Lansdale Drive, a farmhouse just outside Donnerville, to the house of Marion Dusquene, thirty-six, after Mr. Dusquene was discovered having developed abilities. We now go live to Angela Marques. Angela?"
Angela Marques: "Thank you, David. I'm standing outside the house of Marion Dusquene, and the PRC has just finished sweeping the house for any signs of the so-called "Choosers" that are behind the Powers. They've found nothing, I'm sorry to say, but according to the spokesperson who was just on-site, they are confident that they can capture one soon."
Newscaster: "And were Mr. Dusquene's abilities discovered?"
Angela: "No, David, but the PRC ensures us that the presence of a Chooser was confirmed."
Newscaster: "Alright. Thank you Angela."
Mrs. Gibbons pressed stop just before he introduced the next story. Marion Dusquene? Mister Marion Dusquene? I've never met them, but I'm quite certain my dad mentioned Miss Marion Dusquene. Her farm was on the other side of town from my house, otherwise I'd have met her. Who could this Mister Dusquene be?
Mrs. Gibbons asked, "Have any of you met Mr. Dusquene?" Everyone shook their heads. "I'm not surprised. From what I hear, he's a recluse. This is the first Power recorded in Donnerville since they began showing up in East City last year, any thoughts? Kathy, you're a supporter of the Powers, what do you have to say?"
Kathy Amberton cleared her throat. Cute little brunette girl I'd tried dating once. That ended when I took her to a restaurant and we both got food poisoning. We're still friends, though, so it wasn't too bad. "I don't like the idea of the PRC trying to capture one of the Choosers. We've only known about them for a few months, wouldn't it be a better idea to study how they choose?"
Rocky Simpson let out a noise that signified both disgust and humor. "Why should we even study them? Kill 'em in the act, I say."
"They're not doing anything wrong, Rock," I said. The entire room turned to look at me. Dammit.
Alice Winters asked, "Are you seriously defending the Powers?"
I shook my head. "I'm defending the Choosers. They're pretty much just grabbing people at random, right? They probably don't have anything to do with what the Powers do after they get their abilities."
Jacob let out a laugh. "Right, because all those weird people, like Melody Hunter and Moros, would have just decided to kill people anyway, right? East City'd be a crater now whether there were Powers or not."
"I didn't say that," I said.
"Naw, but you implied it."
Kathy stepped up to my rescue. "No, he didn't imply anything." She gave me a quick smile. "And what about all the Powers that have helped? People like Arachnya, or Sapphire, or Singularity? Are you saying we just ignore them because of all the bad ones?"
Rocky snorted again. "There are no good ones. Didn't Arachnya kill her own dad?"
Mrs. Gibbons answered, "No, that was another Power, named Harmony."
"Whatever, she was involved, right? She probably planned the whole thing."
I shook my head and sighed. Why would Arachnya want to kill her own dad? I'd ask, but I know Rocky's answer would just be Because she's a Power, and they hate us, so I kept my mouth shut. He wasn't a big fan of the Powers before the East City Crisis last year. He'd just become the majority, now that most people hated them.
* * *
The bus passed me as I walked home. I could actually ride the bus, but it's only an hour long walk home, and I like the trip, even if the only sights are corn fields and cows. Most of the time, I just think about classes like Mrs. Gibbons', when debates flare up, usually about the Powers. That was pretty much all we debated in Mrs. Gibbons' class these days. I remember a year or so ago, when we'd debate things like the crises in Eastern Europe, or whatever the hell had happened in Africa (which a lot of people assumed had something to do with Powers). Now, it was the Safe Zone, Singrinium, Powers here, Powers there...
The only thing I hated about the Powers was the amount of debate they raised.
I stopped for a moment and knelt down to pick up a small rock. It wasn't heavy, wasn't even all that big. I tossed it, heard it hit the roof of some small wooden building nearby, probably an outhouse. It reminded me that I needed to hurry up and fix the outhouse at home. The wood had been so rotten that the last big storm we had tore the roof and at least half of the west wall right off of it. Dad had been on me to get it fixed all week, but I was too busy procrastinating. I'd have nothing better to do this weekend.
I got to the house and saw Dad sitting on his rocking chair on the porch. "Mack," he told me once, "your granddad sat on this very chair and taught me everything I needed to know about farming, as his father did to him, and his father did to him. When you're out of school, I'm gonna sit on this chair and teach you everything you need to know about farming." Granted, most of it I'd picked up already just because when you live on a farm in Kansas, you pretty much have to learn how to farm by necessity. Dad preferred to keep my chores light, though, since all he did was tend to the farm and I had school to deal with.
"What's with you?" he asked, still rocking in that chair.
"Nothing. Just... Lot'sa talk about Powers today."
He sighed. "That's all you kids seem to talk about these days."
I nodded. "I know. I don't get it, either. A year ago, almost everybody was on their side, and now, everybody hates them."
Dad stood up. "People hate what they fear, kiddo, and especially after East City last year, people are afraid of the Powers." He put his hand on my shoulder. "Now, get out to the wood shed, grab some wood, and get your ass to work fixing that outhouse."
I smirked. "Yeah, Dad. I'll get right on that."
"Good. I'm ordering pizza tonight."
* * *
The wood shed was up against the fence on the southwest corner of the property. Much like the outhouse, it was a holdover from when the farm was much smaller back when my great grandpa ran the farm. Unlike the outhouse, it was in much better condition, thanks mostly due to it being the wood shed. We had literally no reason to let it go to rot, since the stuff needed to repair it were inside it.
One thing I never understood was why the wood shed was so damn big. It was almost the same size as the barn, with more than enough wood to probably build a second barn. We had more tools in there than the auto shop class at school.
I opened the door and was about to reach for the light switch when a bright light nearly blinded me. I shielded my eyes and glimpsed what appeared to be a woman in the view between my fingers. "What the...?" was all I managed to get out before I suddenly couldn't move anymore.
"You have been chosen. Power has been granted to you. But, your form is not correct." She was suddenly right beside me, and touched me on the forehead. "You shall be reborn today, Defender."
With that, the woman disappeared into a pink and green mist, and I was both alone and coughing. My vision started to double, and then I felt dizzy. The room started to spin, to shake, to... split into tenths? What the h...
* * *
I had to have fallen unconscious. I was on the ground, my head was pounding. Thank God I hadn't fallen face first, otherwise I'd have probably broken my nose or my jaw. I sat up and rubbed at my forehead where that woman had touched me. God, what the hell had happened? What was that weird mist?
"What time is it?" I asked aloud, and nearly gulped in fear. The voice that had asked the question wasn't mine. I groped at my neck and coughed a few times, but I still had the same feminine voice that I'd just heard. What the hell?
I found the wall in the dark and reached up to try and find the light switch. I was sitting against the wall, and should have been able to reach it, but for some reason it seemed further away than usual. Eventually I got to it by standing up, but I could tell just by the notches in the door (where my dad had marked my height for years) that I was shorter, somehow. I'd been five foot eight, and I was now five foot five.
I rubbed at my forehead again. That headache was fading, but not fast or easily. Okay, so I was shorter and had a girl's voice. What else had happened to me? The idea that I was, for whatever reason, a girl now was not only strange, it was somehow the only thing I was considering. Why? Boys don't just up and turn into girls for no reason, so why would I have up and turned into a girl?
Before I could ask myself anything more, the door to the wood shed opened and my dad was standing there, looking at me. I saw his eyes go from my head to my feet and then back again. He didn't say anything at all, he just pointed at the house and motioned for me to follow him.
Oooh boy... What was going to happen now?
* * *
Megan Judd was exhausted. Cheer practice was ridiculously difficult. People always looked down on cheerleaders, but they just didn't know the strain and work it took to stay in shape so that people could watch you dance around and shake pom-poms. She almost fell onto her bed and waited for the loving embrace of sleep to take her until she had to wake up and do her homework. She closed her eyes and felt herself drift away...
Until she heard a noise coming from somewhere in her room. Her eyes were open in an instant and she saw a strange female creature floating a few feet above the floor in front of her. "You are a Rejection," the creature said, with a voice both beautiful and terrifying both at one time. "There is nothing wrong with your form, but you need power." Megan felt something strange enveloping her body, covering her completely. The last thing she heard before passing out was, "Surge".
* * *
I almost felt like there was a giant lamp trained on me. I was just sitting in a chair at the kitchen table, and my dad was sitting across the table from me. I seriously waited for him to slide a cup of coffee over to me (even though I wasn't really a coffee drinker) and begin his interrogation.
Just as Dad cleared his throat, I practically squealed out, "I don't know what happened, why I'm like this, or what's going on!"
Dad laughed. "Mack, it's okay."
I asked, "It is?"
He nodded. "Yep."
"Really?"
"Do you even know what's happened to you?"
"I'm a girl now?"
"What was your first clue?"
"My voice. And other things."
"And do you know how this happened?"
I tried to think, and then it flashed through my mind - the woman, the one that glowed. "There was this weird woman in the wood shed. She was glowing."
"How'd she get in there? The shed's locked all the time."
I shook my head. "I dunno. She was just in there when I opened the door."
He nodded, then stood up and walked over to the closet and pulled out a flannel shirt. "Put this on," he said, tossing me the shirt. "Well, in the bathroom."
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I asked, even though the answer was painfully obvious. I was wearing a boy's tee shirt, that was probably at least a size or two too big for me. Why would I even ask that?
"Because that shirt is practically a dress on you right now."
I don't know why, but I gulped.
* * *
Megan woke up with a headache, and a voice. Let's get going, Meg, the voice said, we need to find someone.
Eh... what? Who said that?
I did, Meg.
She sat up, a little confused by how her hair had come undone from the ponytail she'd had it tied in. "Where are you?!" she asked aloud.
Look in your mirror, sweetiepie.
Megan looked over at the door to her bathroom and bolted for it, then nearly choked when she saw the reflection. It... wasn't her own, but it looked exactly like she did. The gorgeous blonde in the mirror matched her every feature, but... the reflection wasn't moving, just standing there, with a smile on its face. "What?"
"Please, Meg, even you can understand this," the reflection said, an exact copy of Megan's own voice, as well. "You remember that woman, don't you? The one that appeared out of nowhere?"
She rubbed at her forehead, still confused. Woman? What woman? What was the reflection talking about?
The reflection smacked itself in the face. "Are you really that stupid?"
Megan was getting angry. "Shut your mouth! I can't remember, okay? I'm just... confused..."
The reflection smirked. "Maybe she should have named you Slow instead of Surge."
Her eyes shot open. Surge. That sounded familiar. Why? Because it's your new name, Megan, don't forget it.
"Who said that?" Megan asked, looking at the reflection. It shook its head. So, there was a third voice in her head. What would she do? How would she deal with that?
The reflection answered, "It's simple, ladybug, you just deal. Go to school, enjoy your life."
Megan grabbed the mirror. "What does Surge mean?!"
The reflection's smile widened disturbingly. "You'll see, sweetheart."
* * *
"Remind me why I can't just poke through Emily's stuff?" I asked. "It's not like she's at home right now, anyway."
Dad smacked me on the back of the head. It didn't really hurt, save for a minor sting. Dad's smacks have occasionally left me unconscious.
"How about because she still lives there when she's not in college? Or did you forget that?"
"And you don't think she'd be happy to have a little sister to give hand-me-downs?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Have you met your sister?"
Well... Emily and I did get along, but she also preferred spending time with her friends rather than me. Granted, I was five years younger than her, but that wasn't my fault. Still, she did seem to try and find reasons not to be around me.
"I still don't see why I couldn't grab some of her clothes just to go shopping."
"Because your sister isn't as well-endowed as you are."
I looked down at my breasts, pushing out the front of my shirt. He had a point, they were kinda big. Emily wasn't exactly tiny, though. And she had a lot of cute tops that showed her boobs off.
Wait a second... Cute? Did I just call Emily's clothes cute?
Uh-oh. I felt scared now.
We pulled into the Walmart parking lot and Dad had to help me out of the truck, just like he'd had to help me into the truck. I was shorter, now, and it wasn't easy for me to climb into the truck. The weird thing is, even though I was shorter, smaller all around (okay, maybe not all around) and just plain tiny, I didn't feel like I was actually using any force whatsoever to get into the truck. Yeah, Dad was helping me, but only a little bit.
I felt like people were watching me as I poked through the clothing aisles. Teeny teenage blonde, wearing a ratty flannel shirt and shorts that were clearly too big for her - I just had to look like the weirdest thing they ever saw.
Dad wheeled the shopping cart up to me and said, "Just pick something and put it in the damn cart, kiddo."
I sighed. "But... It's tough..."
"No it's not. You find something that fits, and you put it in the cart. It's one of the simplest tasks in human history, and it isn't complicated in any way."
"It's not simple!" I nearly squealed. "Look at all this stuff! There's, like, a gazillion different kinds of bras and panties and stuff like that! And that's all just underwear! I haven't even gotten to all the outside clothes!"
Dad sighed, this time. "I swear, it's like when your sister started collecting clothes... Mackenzie Norris, pick some clothes out, or we go home now, understand me?"
"I do, I really, really do, but..." I sighed again. "Twenty minutes, please? Twenty minutes, and I'll have some clothes picked out."
I could tell he didn't want to listen to me, but he just nodded and said, "I'll be in housewares. Come and find me when you're done."
I nodded, meekly, and then went back to looking at all the clothing choices I had. There were dozens, hundreds, gazillions. Why was I saying gazillion? I've never said that before. What the hell was up with me? Come to think of it, why was I standing in front of only the really colorful underwear? There wasn't a single white bra or pair of panties among the ones I was looking at. I was actually holding a teal bra, and for some reason, it looked really, really cute to me.
Aw, crap, what's going on with me?
* * *
Megan didn't understand why she was compelled to do so, but she just felt like she needed to take a walk. Donnerville wasn't exactly a big town, and she knew pretty much every street and road.
Something was giving her a headache, just as she passed Stevenson's Pharmacy. What the hell is that? She stepped closer to the pharmacy and looked inside one of the windows. There was a girl there, mopping the floors. She looked so... strange, to Megan. So... colorful.
Things were starting to go black and white, for some reason, except for that girl. Megan looked around at other people, but they weren't in color, like that girl was. Why as that girl in color, but no one else?
Surge... the third voice said. Surge...
Megan closed her eyes. No, no, no, no, no! Whatever you want, I don't care!
Surge...
Megan tried to shut the voice out of her mind, but she couldn't. The voice was her mind. She looked back at the window and saw the reflection again. The reflection nodded, then faded away.
Surge...
She found herself stumbling into the pharmacy. She accidentally knocked over a magazine display rack. Why did she feel so... weak?
"Are you okay?" the girl - the colorful girl, who looked so delicious - asked, rushing over to Megan to help her up. Megan looked into the girl's face and saw it... Saw... Something that she needed.
The voice that spoke was her own, but she wasn't the one who said the words.
"I'm fine now."
Her hands latched onto the girl's face and she felt it, felt the surge as everything that was special about the girl became her. When Megan stood up, she felt refreshed, she felt alive, she felt... satisfied.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, she held out her hand, and the glass before her shattered. Where did this power come from? How was she doing it? Was that what she took from the girl? Did the girl have that power?
Why wasn't anything making sense?
She heard police sirens. Somebody must have called the sheriff. Megan quickly ducked out the other entrance, not the one she came in, and bolted. She didn't want to be arrested. She needed to get home. Maybe her parents had some knowledge of what happened to her.
* * *
"This is what you picked out?" Dad asked, when I caught up to him. He held up one of the tops I picked, a lavender blouse with no sleeves and only enough buttons that I'd practically be spilling cleavage out of it. I felt embarrassed of it, but not for the reasons I should be. I should be embarrassed because I picked something so feminine. I was embarrassed because I wasn't sure I could pull off the look I wanted. "You know I didn't let your sister start wearing stuff like this until she was at least sixteen, right?"
"But it's cute!" I squealed out. Why was I squealing so damn much? I sounded so stupid when I did that, but, dammit, I couldn't help it. That top did look cute, and I wanted to look cute in it.
He looked at me with one eyebrow raised, then sighed. "Alright. If you're gonna drop any and all resemblance to the boy I raised, you can."
"I'm not trying to!"
"I believe you."
"Seriously! I don't know why I'm acting this way, it's just... easy to act like this."
"It's fine."
"Dad!"
He smiled and patted me on the shoulder. "I'm serious, kiddo. Now, let's pay for your new wardrobe and get back home. We're gonna havta figure out what to do about school when you go back on Monday."
Crap... School. How could I forget about that? Crap, what would Freddy say? Would he try to hit on me? Would I let him?
Oh, shit, he was probably on his way to the house.
"Dad, we gotta go home," I said, quickly. It almost came out one giant word.
Now I felt horrified. My best friend was going to find out about what had happened to me.
Pulled Back In, Part One
Maiden's Peak, New Zealand
"Everybody down on the floor!"
Whoever was shouting was giving me a headache. I rubbed at my forehead and practically slammed my coffee cup down on the table. I stood up and hopped over the railing behind me. I heard somebody shriek, but they probably just didn't recognize me. In mid-air, I took off my school uniform and pulled my costume's pants down to cover my legs, then pulled the mask upward to cover my face. It was a new costume, one I sewed myself, and I made sure the mask was attached to the neck, so that I could just pull it up to cover my face. It made it easier to deal with my hair, even though I'd cut it so that it didn't reach my shoulders.
Before I hit the ground and made a big mess, I extended my arm outward and shot a webline toward a building, then swung upward. I landed on the side of a building and looked at my reflection in the window. Wow. Even my mask looked annoyed.
I swung over to where I'd heard the shouting. My hearing had gotten a lot better since I moved to New Zealand. Not to mention my spider-sense was actually pinpointing things exactly now. I didn't know if it had anything to do with all that weird stuff I did back in the States or if my powers were just evolving, but it made things somewhat easier.
I landed on another building overlooking what looked like a check cashing place. Well, at least it wasn't a bank. I'd hate it if somebody were robbing a bank again. I think I've stopped like six bank robberies in the past year. I watched as a man ran out of the building and shot a gun up in the air.
"Pols'll never get me! Nobody will stop me!" he shouted. God, didn't this place have a silent alarm? I let myself drop from the building. "None of you will stop the Tax Evader!"
I landed, crouched down, on the street several dozen feet away from her. "Really, the Tax Evader?" I asked, then stood up. I folded my arms under my breasts and shook my head. "I can remember when the worst name I heard was the Railway Bandits."
He pointed the gun at me. "Who are you?!"
"Really? You don't know who I am?" I pointed at the spider symbol on my chest. "Yellow costume, red spider? You really don't recognize me?"
He scratched at his temple with the barrel of his gun. "Arachnya? Didn't you go into space?"
I sighed. "Are you serious? Space? What rag have you been reading that says I went into space?"
"What's with the costume?" somebody else asked.
"Didn't you live in the US?" came another question.
"Are you single?" was a third.
"Go back to Russia!" was a fourth. Seriously. Somebody told me to go back to Russia. That's so stupid.
I sighed again. "Okay, let's just get this over with," I said. "Let's do the super hero/criminal thing." He just dropped his gun and bag full of cash on the ground and held his hands up. I felt like beating him up for no reason. "Seiously? Seriously?! You're gonna just give up because I showed up?"
He pointed behind me. "No, because they did."
I turned around and saw a group of cops standing there, all of them pointing their weapons at me and past me at the dumbass. "Ms. Harkins, please get down on the ground and put your hands on your head!"
I shrugged. "Really? C'mon! I'm doing my job so you guys don't have to do yours!"
Somebody shouted, "Get down, you stupid Power!" Then a snowball hit me in the face. I could have dodged it. My spider-sense warned me about it. I was just too annoyed with the knowledge that I was about to be arrested for doing the closest thing I had to a job.
An officer walked up to me and grabbed my hands, slapped some cuffs on my wrists. I just shook my head and waited for the cop to pull my mask down. He tried pulling it up, instead. "Down, buddy. It goes down."
He chuckled nervously. "Sorry, ma'am. It's a little different from your last mask."
"It's easier to handle." I looked at his name tag. "Officer Rancher. Um... Rick, right?"
He nodded. "That's right. I cuffed you a few months ago when you stopped that nut on Bleeker Street that tried to blow up his house with that bomb."
I thought about it. Yeah, that guy who McGuyvered a bomb with soap, an electric razor and cockroach trap. "I remember that. Your wife was expecting a baby, right?"
He smiled. "Oh, you remember that? Yeah. Nancy had the baby."
"Oh yeah? Boy or girl?"
"Girl. We named her Christina."
"Aw, that's sweet. My little brother's name is Christopher."
"Named her after my sister." He led me to one of the cars. "Okay, watch your head, ma'am."
I sighed again. Was this really how bad it was getting? I was carrying on a pleasant conversation with the cop taking me to the police station. Seriously. I'd facepalm, but I was handcuffed. Dammit...
* * *
"Another one, Harkins?" Chief Tomlins asked when I was led into the cell that I'd become so accustomed to taking naps in every few days. "What was this one doing?"
"Robbing a check cashing place," Officer Rancher answered.
"So, slightly worse than that psycho lumberjack last week, eh?"
I sat down on the cot and waited for the chief to uncuff me. "He was stupid, that's all," I said. "How's Emily?"
"She's good. She's still waiting for that costume you said you'd give her last month."
"Sorry. If she was in any of my classes, she could remind me." I hugged my knees to my chest. "My mom's been called, I assume?"
The chief nodded. "She has. Said she'd be here in about an hour. Now, as you know, you've got to wait here until then."
I nodded. "Yeah." Stupid anti-Power laws. I was lucky Chief Tomlins liked me. I was friends with his daughter, and in the 'friend zone' with his older son, Andrew. I say that of course because I dumped him, not the other way around. Not that he and I didn't work out, but we got to the point where we were just... We were hanging out rather than dating. Not like -
- No. Not him. I won't mention him. I didn't even want to think about him.
It was that simple. We just dropped back into being friends and stopped dating. Hell, I only say I 'dumped' him because whenever anybody asks, they tell me it couldn't have been that simple, so we made up the story that I dumped him, and all was right with the world.
Yeah. All.
I waited only about ten minutes before the door to the cell block was opened. Normally I would have been happy that my mom was early, except that it wasn't my mom. I could tell that by the fact that my spider sense was going into overdrive. Somebody else was here. I stood up and balled my hands into fists as soon as he entered the room.
I'd met this guy a year ago, in the middle of the chaos that was the East City Crisis. He looked plain as hell, his only distinguishing features being that he was middle-aged and smoked a cigarette. He was doing so now, despite the fact that smoking indoors in police stations was against the law. Something told me that just flashing his badge would probably shut people up when they mentioned it to him, if he even had a badge. He tapped the ashes into a portable ashtray and returned the cigarette to his lips. "Good morning, Ms. Harkins," he said, then took a long drag. "It's been awhile."
I scoffed. "Not long enough."
"Nice accent."
I almost blushed at that. The fact that I developed an accent from living in New Zealand for a year had long since become unimportant to me. I used to tease Chris about his, but that got to the point where it stopped being funny to either one of us. "What do you want?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. Can't a fellow just drop by to speak to an... old friend?"
"We're not friends, and even if we were, you only seem to show up when disasters are happening."
He smiled, then knocked some more ashes into his ashtray. "Nothing of the sort, Ms. Harkins. I'm merely here to prove something to myself, that's all."
"And what would that be?"
"That I know where you are."
"Why?"
He shook his head. "Nothing important." He pulled up a chair from somewhere off to the side and sat down in front of the cell. "Have I ever told you - "
I cut him off. "You've never told me shit, and don't try to act like you have."
He continued, like I hadn't even spoken. " - That I met him once?"
He didn't have to tell me who 'him' was, because I knew exactly who he was talking about. "I don't care."
"He was an unassuming man, even then. Hardly a harbinger of doom, and most definitely not someone I thought would lead the world on the course it is today."
"I don't care," I repeated.
"Had I thought then that we'd be in this kind of situation... I might have killed him myself the day I met him. Instead, I almost feel as though it's my fault we're here now, almost as if - "
I shouted, "What part of 'I don't care' don't you fucking understand?!" My hands started to glow a deep crimson, like they had off and on over the last year whenever I was upset or angry. Something was wrong with me, I was dead certain of that. I took a deep breath, tried to calm myself down. "You can blame yourself for what the Benefactor did all you want, it doesn't matter," I whispered, "we're here now, people like me are either being jailed, or persecuted, or hunted, or even killed in some places. It really doesn't matter whether you could have ended this before it started, it won't change the fact that it did start." I sat back down on the cot in the corner and faced away from him. "Just go," was the last thing I said to him.
* * *
Christopher Harkins dropped a text book in his locker and pulled the piece of paper with Power Lover written on it off of the door. If he could find the retards who were putting these on his locker, he'd either punch them or at least pay them to stop taping a piece of paper with Power Lover written on it onto his locker door. Could he help it if his sister was a Power? It's not like she chose to be one.
"Yo, Harkins!" someone shouted. Chris turned around to see Andrew Tomlins walking up to him, arms stretched like he wanted a hug. It was an old ritual that they performed. One of them would hold his arms stretched, the other would tackle him, send him onto the floor. Chris didn't feel like doing it, though. "What's up with you?"
"Not today, man. Charlie's in jail. Again."
"I know, Dad called me up, told me she had a visitor, some government guy from the US."
"Government guy?"
"Yep. Sounds like Spider-Girl sent him out of there, though, Dad said the walls were shaking when she shouted."
Not another one of those... Chris thought. His sister was prone to violent outbursts, wall-shattering outbursts. One of them had been particularly bad one night when a few anti-Power protesters had threatened to raid the house and drag Charlie out. If it hadn't been for the NZSIS showing up with a document signed by the Prime Minister that declared Charlie under the protection of the government, there might have been blood spilled that night, all of it from the protesters.
"C'mon, she'll be out in a little while, it's no big deal."
Chris smiled. "For someone who dated her, you sure don't know my sister as well as you think you do."
Andy smiled back. "Better than you think."
* * *
Leilani Morrison took a look at the mirror hanging in her locker and brushed her hair for a moment. She'd been having trouble with it all morning, and nothing she seemed to do was helping her in any way. She tossed her hairbrush back in her locker and slammed the door shut. This is annoying, she thought, my hair always looks bad. She sighed. I should just cut it all off. That would be quite the statement. Maybe I will tomorrow.
She walked into the classroom and sat down next to her lab partner. Chris Harkins didn't look like he was very happy at all. "What's the matter with you?" she asked.
He shook his head. "My sister, that's all."
His sister, the Power. Arachnya herself. Lani had seen her on TV more than once, thanks to all that crap that went down in America. Lani had seen all the footage of the victims of the East City Crisis and the first thing she did when New Zealand's brief anti-Power laws were enacted was turn in her neighbor, Mr. Lesnie. When the anti-Power laws were condensed into the anti-ability laws, the freak had been let out, and had promptly moved to South America. She could only hope that some left-wing guerillas had killed him at some point.
Lani didn't ask about Arachnya any further. She really didn't want to know any more. "Oh," she said, "is she anything but trouble?" Why had she asked that question? She wanted to hit herself for it.
Chris turned to her. "Charlie's in jail because she stopped a robbery, why would you say that?"
"We have police to do that, she doesn't need to swing around using her powers messing things up for people."
"So, you're saying she should just try and act like a normal person?"
"Well, she's not normal, but she shouldn't be acting like she's judge and jury."
"Charlie only wants to help, Lani."
Lani glared at him. "And the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. She wants to help people, she should stay out of everybody's way."
* * *
"Sweetie, I really do wish you could curb your natural impulses when it comes to fighting crime," Mom said, running a brush through my hair for whatever reason. Maybe it looked weird, I dunno. I was too busy moping to care. She should really be paying more attention to the road than my hair. That I did care about.
"I can't help it. Protecting people and beating down chumps who rob banks - "
Mom cut me off, "Or check-cashing places?"
" - Or check-cashing places, is in my blood. It has been ever since I was little. Blame it on being a cop's daughter."
She glared at me. "Sometimes, I do. Your dad took you to way too many crime scenes. It's amazing his fellow officers never noticed the son that followed him around was suddenly a daughter one day."
I shrugged. "I attribute that to my natural ability to act like I've been this way my whole life."
"Yeah, right."
I pulled my gloves off and stuffed them back into the pockets on my costume. Not quite half a day of school was gone yet, but I wasn't going to my lessons. Today was too depressing. If the cigarette smoker hadn't shown up, maybe I'd go to school, but thanks to him, it was skip day.
"It'll get better, honey," Mom said, shaking me out of my self-pity daze. "One of these days, a Chosen's going to save somebody important, and society will hop right back on the super hero worship bandwagon, it's like cycles with actors. Look at how up and down Arnold Schwartzenegger's career has gone."
"Well, I guess if I was an actress, that would actually mean something to me. Maybe I could be the next Terminator."
She smiled. "There's a goal to strive toward, maybe the next time they try making an Arachnya movie, they can cast the real deal."
"And I'm sure with my fancy new accent, everybody will probably call me 'a poor imitation who can't even try to sound American', or something like that." I hugged my legs to my chest and sighed. "And the worst part about that is that people will see my name, know exactly who I am, and still think I'm a fake."
Mom sighed. "Whatever. Speaking of your accent, why did you pick one up faster than your brother or I?"
"I dunno. Maybe because I'm in jail every few weeks."
* * *
At the end of the school day, Lani waited outside the building for Chris, who was talking to Andy Tomlins. The Power's ex-boyfriend, great. I bet he's gonna bitch at me for what I said to Chris earlier. Good work, Leilani. "Hey, Chris?" she semi-asked, catching the two boys' attention.
"Hey, Lani," Andy said, with a wave. He seemed far less confrontational than she thought he'd be. I'm blowing this all out of proportion, clearly. Just see if Chris wants to go out, and then go home. This will be easy. "Chris wants to ask you out, by the way." Wait, what?
"Hey!" Chris smacked Andy on the back of the head. "Can't you keep your yap shut?" He sighed. "I... was gonna ask you out, but this nuthead just screwed that up."
Lani giggled. "No, it's okay. I was... um... kinda gonna ask you out."
Chris smiled. "Oh, yeah?"
Andy shook his head. "Okay, love birds, I'm going home. I'm likely gonna hear something about your sister," he said, directing the last part to Chris. "See ya tomorrow."
"So..." Chris said, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Um... Tomorrow? Like... A trip to McDonald's?"
"I'd like that."
"Cool. After school tomorrow, then."
Lani blushed. "Thanks, Chris."
"Hey, I accidentally asked you out, remember? Thank you."
* * *
I was playing around with a Rubik's Cube when Chris burst into the house and practically pushed me off the couch. "What the hell?!" I shouted, then stood up. "What's up with you?"
"You need to give me advice."
"So you push me off the couch?!"
"Advice, now."
"Advice, no."
"Why not?"
"What part of you pushed me off the couch don't you understand?!"
"Stop fighting!" Mom shouted from upstairs.
I sighed. "Fine, what advice do you want?"
"Is taking a girl to McDonald's outrageously cheesy?"
He seriously asked me that, didn't he? "Yes. Yes it is. Never ask a girl out with that line."
"And if it worked?"
"Then this girl is way to easy for you."
He smiled. "Good. I was hoping she'd be easy."
I rolled my eyes. "Seriously? Why can't you date a nice girl? There are like a billion nice girls here, and you always go for the tramps."
He gave me a pat on the back. "Because I like hot girls."
* * *
Lani shut her door and then immediately let her skirt fall to the floor, then she pulled off her blazer and blouse and tossed them on her bed. Coming home from school was always her favorite part of the day. She pulled on her lounging shorts and a tank top, then crashed in front of her computer.
I should get my homework done, but I really don't want to. She clicked on Facebook in her bookmarks tab and stared at her relationship status.
Single
Should I change it? Should I tell the world that Chris Harkins is my boyfriend now?
She sighed. It was a tough decision. She wasn't sure if she was ready to let anybody know, seeing as Chris's sister was so well-known as a Power - as the Power that the world first learned about - all because of the potential hate that could come from it.
Leilani Morrison was not going to let the world call her a Power Sympathizer.
She clicked over to YouTube and found a dozen different videos on the front page being all about different Powers cropping up somewhere, and the occasional video about that Safe Zone, or about Abaddon, or something to do with South Africa... She hated the stupid amount of attention everything related to the Powers got from the internet.
There was a strange light coming from behind her. Lani turned around and saw a woman floating in the middle of the room. This woman reached out and touched Lani on the forehead, then spoke in a voice that sounded pure and angelic. "You have been chosen." I've been what? "Power has been granted to you, but your form is not correct." Lani felt a strange force encompass her, slip in an out of her body, rip her apart and pull her back together again. Finally, when it was over, she felt the warm embrace of unconsciousness drift over her, but not before hearing the woman speak again: "You will be reborn today, Aunoa."
Wait a minute... That's the Maori word for 'automatic'...
Leilani Morrison drifted out of consciousness with that thought echoing through her mind.
In The Beginning...
I couldn't believe I was laying on a giant spider web. I was six stories up, between two apartment buildings, and the only 'comforting' thing about this was that I was holding onto my girlfriend. Charlie nuzzled up against me and made sure my arms were around her. She looked up at my face and giggled. "What's wrong?"
I laughed nervously. "Oh, y'know. Here we are, six stories up, and I can look down and see traffic go by. Not to mention it's damn near midnight, so some helicopter could come passing by and accidentally cut us down."
She tapped her temple. "Spider-sense, remember? We'll be fine. And don't worry about the webbing, it's strong enough to hold us."
"Is it strong enough to withstand helicopter blades?"
She reached up and kissed me on the lips. "Shut up, okay? Just shut up and hold me and give me lots of kisses, okay?"
"Well, since I have nothing better to do."
She held my arms against the webbing. "Um, nothing better?"
"It's an expression. I didn't mean anything. I love you, and I'd spend time with you before I'd do anything else. Well, except, maybe, donating a kidney, or something."
She pressed a finger against my chest. "As long as that kidney's going to somebody who needs it, I don't care." She then leaned in on me and kissed me again. Much to my surprise, there was a bright flash. I broke off the kiss and looked toward the source of the flash, so did Charlie. There was a man sitting in a window, with a Polaroid canera in his hands. He pulled the photo out of the camera. "Hey! Who said you could take pictures of us!" Charlie squealed.
"I'm a photographer, I take pictures of everybody!" He held out the developed photo. "Here, on the house."
Charlie crawled across the web and took the photo. "Thanks, I guess." She crawled back over to me and handed me the photo. "Aw, look at how cute we look up here."
I took the photo from her and laughed. There we were, kissing on a web. "Only here in East City." I chuckled. "You should take this, put it on your refrigerator."
She shook her head. "Nope. You keep it. At least this one isn't just me in my costume."
"I like the pictures I have of you in your costume."
She kissed me again. "You are such a dork."
* * *
Svetlana Narekova watched the spider girl and her boyfriend from a rooftop six blocks away. She pulled the binoculars away from her face and smiled. Kidnap the boyfriend, that's all it would take. She'll pay for what she did to Gustav. I'll make sure of it.
It had been three weeks since her former employer, Gustav Hammond, had been jailed for his involvement in the death of Big Mike Richardson, and although Svetlana herself had gotten away clean, she was loyal to Gustav, and had been since long before her Choosing. She would exact revenge on Charie Harkins. The girl would regret the day she'd even learned Gustav's name.
"I can feel you," Shanna Williams said as she put her arms around Svetlana's waist, "I can feel your pain."
"I didn't know that was one of your gifts," Svetlana said.
She felt Shanna put her head against Svetlana's back. "Not a gift from my Choosing, my love, just from being around you."
Svetlana placed her hands on Shanna's. "It pains me to see the girl so happy when the man I love is rotting in jail."
Shanna grabbed Svetlana by the shoulders and spun her around so that they could speak face-to-face. "We'll take care of that, darling, you shouldn't worry. It pains me to see you hurting so much. We'll make her feel the suffering that you feel right now. We'll make her wish she were the one in prison." Shanna kissed Svetlana on the lips, caressed her body. Finally, the kiss was broken and Shanna whispered, "We'll kill the boy first, and then we'll ruin the girl."
Svetlana closed her eyes and smiled.
* * *
Charlie locked the apartment door behind her and then nearly shit her pants when Chris was suddenly standing there. "Mom and Dad are gonna be pissed when they find out you snuck out tonight."
She rolled her eyes. "Shut up, doofbag. If Mom and Dad weren't out of town tonight, I wouldn't have even snuck out." She walked over to the refrigerator, pulled out the milk and poured a glass, then drank some right out of the gallon. "What are you doing up this late for, anyway?"
"Zombie movies on AMC."
"Which ones?"
"Well... All of 'em?"
"Lemme make some popcorn, make room on the couch."
"You're lucky I Tivo'd most of them."
* * *
Frank Holden heard a knock on his door and initially thought about ignoring it, but considering there were only a couple people who his parents let in the apartment, he decided to see who it was. Charlie's boyfriend, Tim, was standing there, looking like he was about to fall over.
Frank stood there, holding the door open. He moved out of the way a little bit and Tim walked in and crashed on Frank's bed. "What the hell, man?"
Tim flipped himself over and sat up. "Your place was closer than mine."
"Closer to what?"
"Charlie and I were hanging out - literally - a couple blocks away from here and somebody broke my bike lock and stole my bike. My place is halfway across the city."
"And you didn't want to call a cab?"
Tim tossed Frank his wallet. "Read that." Frank opened the wallet and found a slip of paper with a note written on it. Your girlfriend swings webs, cabs won't pick you up.
"Seriously? They won't pick you up because you're dating Charlie?"
"Seriously."
"How do they all know?"
"Caller ID, I assume."
"So, use a pay phone?"
"They still figure it out somehow. I can't figure out how. I've even had Ms. Adamsen call, but they know she's calling for me."
"Why don't you get a ride home with her?"
"She moved in with Mr. Cabot, and they live closer to Charlie than me."
Frank sighed. "Fine, I give up. You can crash here for the night."
"Your mom already told me I could."
He sighed again. His mom was always letting his friends stay without telling him. "So, movies?"
"Like what?"
"Well, thanks to Charlie, I bought that Avengers box set with all the movies."
"Sure."
* * *
Svetlana ported into the black kid's room and found the spider girl's boyfriend sleeping beside the black kid. She smiled. Two birds, one bullet. She ported back to Shanna and took her lover's hand, then brought her into the room with the boys. "Do what you were Chosen for," Svetlana told her lover.
Shanna smiled. "Of course."
Shanna placed her hands on the boys' heads, and a dark purple light began to emit from her body. She looked upward and the light spilled from her mouth, eyes and nostrils. She looked as if she were climaxing sexually, and in a way, that were true. Shanna had told Svetlana about how much pleasure she felt while using her gift.
"This will be fun."
* * *
I woke up to a weird sound. I looked around for Frank, but he wasn't there. He must have gotten up to take a piss or something. I laid back down and hoped to get back to sleep before he got into the bed. It felt awkward to sleep in his bed with him in it, but his floor was a goddamn mess, and the bed was big enough.
The door started to open, creaking loudly. It hadn't done that when I came into the room before, what the hell? I sat up again and this time, I got out of the bed. I stumbled as I caught my foot on a pair of pants, but I regained my balance quickly.
Why was the door farther away? What the hell? I looked at my location relative to the bed and saw that the bed had also moved, and appeared to be a good half mile away. What the hell was going on? Was this a dream? It didn't feel like a dream. I turned back toward the door and suddenly I was closer to it. Something weird was going on here.
I felt something odd, something... touching me. On impulse, I tried brushing away whatever it was, and to my surprise, it worked. Whatever it was let go of me and then touched me again. I reached out and felt a vaguely human shape touching me. I kept probing at the shape and eventually found what seemed like a face. I reached for the face, and then I was suddenly back in bed, Frank beside me, two women in front of us.
"Shanna," the taller woman with the mild Russian accent said. Clearly the bald woman in the skin tight leather who was practically sitting on me was Shanna. I rolled off of the bed and grabbed the first thing that I could find, but a pair of pants - that looked eerilly like the ones I'd stepped on in that weird dream thing.
The Russian woman was suddenly behind me, and grabbed me by the neck. Crap, she was a Chosen! Shanna probably was too, whatever she had been doing to me was likely her power. "Keep him under," the Russian said to Shanna, about Frank. I elbowed the Russian in the stomach, but she didn't lighten her grip. "Stop struggling, boy, you're the one I'm here for."
Through grit teeth, I said, "What the hell are you talking about?"
She leaned down and licked the back of my neck, creeping me out to no end. "The spider will struggle to save you, she'll struggle to defeat me, she'll pay for what she did to Gustav."
Oh, shit... This was Gustav Hammond's henchwoman. Charlie had told me about her. Oh, shit.
"And I'll use you to do it."
I elbowed her again, and this time, something strange happened. When my elbow touched her stomach, I felt an odd... transference. I closed my eyes, then tried to elbow her again, but this time I was spinning around, like the woman wasn't even holding me anymore. I opened my eyes and found that I wasn't even in Frank's room anymore. I was outside, in the middle of the street -
- about to be hit by a car! I raised my arms to cover my face, like that would actually do something, and the sound of the honking horn was gone. I lowered my arms again and found that I was now on a roof, somewhere in the middle of a snowy town. I didn't really want to be here either.
But how was I getting to these places? The Russian woman was a teleporter, but how was I doing this? I wasn't a Chosen, was I?
I needed to get out of there. I tried to concentrate. Since the Russian wasn't teleporting me everywhere, then that meant that I was the one teleporting, so somehow, I needed to tap into this super power I somehow had, and make it back home.
And then I was suddenly home - literally. In my apartment, my mom and dad asleep on the couch, like they usually would after watching too much TV. I ran out into the hall, down the stairs and outside to the street. Frank's apartment was halfway across the city. Unless I figured out exactly how to get this teleporting power to work right, I had no way of getting there quickly.
* * *
Svetlana cursed under her breath. Whatever the boyfriend had been, he'd copied her gift perfectly, and had used it to get away. Was he a Chosen? He didn't seem like he was. Whatever he was, it didn't matter, he was gone.
"Leave him trapped," she ordered Shanna, "we'll draw the spider to us by destroying his mind."
Shanna smiled. "I like that idea, love."
I can't let the boy's disappearance ruin my plans. We'll rip this one's minds to shreds, and then the spider will seek me out and be drawn to her death. Svetlana smiled, and couldn't wait to get her hands on the spider.
* * *
"No," Charlie said.
"No what?" Chris asked.
"Zombies don't talk, that's one 'no'. Zombies don't run, that's 'no' number two. Zombies eat flesh, I don't care if popular culture thinks they eat brains, so that's a third 'no'. Um..."
"So, in other words, you prefer the Romero type of zombie?"
"I do. Is that a big deal?"
Chris shook his head. "Not a big deal, no, but, c'mon, Return of the Living Dead is at least a little entertaining."
"The book was better."
"It was a book?"
"It was a book like a decade before it was a movie."
"What's the book about?"
Charlie sighed. "It's just better. I have it, read it."
He shrugged. "Okay." He reached into the bowl of popcorn that sat between them. "What's up next?"
"Rec."
"What? I hate that one!"
"Don't care. I like it."
"But that one has running zombies, I thought zombies don't run."
"They don't, but I like that one."
Chris was about to say something when the apartment door burst open, and Charlie's boyfriend was standing there, looking very out of breath. What the hell's up with him? he wondered.
"Hey, babe, what's up?" Charlie asked.
"We've gotta go," he said, trying to catch his breath.
"Why?"
"Frank's been kidnapped."
Charlie leapt up from the couch, landed on the ceiling, then dropped to the floor. "If Mom and Dad come home tomorrow, tell 'em I'm busy," she said, pulling on her mask - and no other part of her costume, she just had on pajama pants and pink tank top - and pulled Tim out of the apartment.
Chris picked up the DVR remote. "I'm watchin' Return of the Living Dead."
* * *
"Who took him? Why would anyone take him?" Frank's father asked, specifically to me. Charlie looked uncomfortable, and I certainly felt uncomfortable.
"Well, if anybody knew he was Seeker..." Charlie started, then trailed off. I could tell she didn't want to finish that sentence. "We'll find him, don't worry." She grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into Frank's room, then shut the door behind us. "Now, tell me again what you were doing here?"
"Well, after I dropped you off at your place, I came here because it was closer than my apartment, and I was practically dead on my feet."
"You couldn't call a cab?"
"Cabs won't pick me up anymore!"
She held up her hands as if to say calm down. "Okay, so you were here... Um... How did you get away without Frank's folks seeing you?"
Now I had to tell her. "I... I dunno... The teleporter grabbed me, and suddenly I was somewhere else, but she wasn't doing it, I was, and I - "
She cut me off. "Teleporter? She? Russian? Tall?"
"Yes, yes, yes, yes."
"Gustav Hammond's lapdog?"
"Yeah, her."
"Oh... baby... I don't think she was going after Frank... I think she was going after you."
Had she mentioned that? I couldn't remember. Had she -
And I'll use you to do it.
She wanted to use me to get to Charlie, and Frank was just here. And she'd gotten Necro to help her, of course. But how had I managed to break Necro's hold on me in the first place?
And what the hell was I even thinking about? Where had the name Necro come from? I'd never heard that name before, even among all the Chosen who'd popped up in the last few months. Had I pulled that all just from somehow copying Svetlana's powers?
Svetlana? How do I keep finding these names?
"What is it?" Charlie asked.
"Something... weird. I keep... It's like when I touched the teleporter, I think... Something happened to me, and suddenly, I was a teleporter."
"You can teleport?"
"Yeah. It's tough to control, but... Yeah."
"For reals, you can teleport?"
"Ever since Svetlana grabbed me."
"Did she... Did she tell you her name?"
"No! I just... I know it, because she grabbed me."
"Okay, so she grabbed you, somehow you absorbed her powers, and now you're a teleporter and you've somehow snagged some of her memories or something, right?"
"Kinda, yeah."
Charlie let out a whistle. "Now I have a boyfriend with super powers... Great. I started going out with you because you didn't have powers."
"I didn't try!"
"I know! I didn't say I was dumping you!"
At that moment, Frank's sister came into the room and slammed the door shut. "We can hear you two pretty clearly out there. Now, can you two find my brother or what?"
"We're gonna try, Amy," Charlie said, "we've got a lead now, we're gonna find him."
I nodded, damn sure hoping that we weren't lying to her.
* * *
Frank awoke to some sounds that he still remembered from his time as Francine. Whoever was getting it, they were getting it hard, and they were really enjoying it. Where the hell am I? he asked himself. He looked around and tried to find some sort of indicator as to where in the city he was, but found nothing. The only thing he did find, was that he was tied to whatever it was he was sitting up against.
He closed his eyes and tried to focus. He couldn't really access his power. Why? What was going on? He continued to focus, but nothing was coming. Finally, he reopened his eyes to see his grandmother standing there, rubbing him on the cheek.
"Oh, dear, dear Francine... What's happened to you, darling?"
Charlie had told him about this bitch. Couldn't remember her name, but he remembered her power, to drop people's dead loved ones in front of them and torture them with guilt. But Frank didn't feel guilt about his grandmother's death. She'd died of breast cancer, just like most of the other women in the family. He'd barely known her, only really enough to recognize her. "Piss off, Granny, I'm not in the mood."
"Now, now, dear, that's no way to talk to your grandmother."
"Y'know, I don't really remember my granny talking like a white lady, she was as stereotypically jive as you could get."
She smiled. "You're good, kid." The image of his grandmother faded away, and was replaced by the bald bitch with the dead person powers. "I haven't seen many as good as you. Well, except maybe that kid you were sleeping with when we nabbed you."
"What'd you do to Tim?"
"He got away, unlike you. Too bad, too. He was the one Svetlana wanted, but we're just gonna havta settle for you."
"What the hell would you want Tim for? He doesn't even have powers."
She tapped him on the nose. "I guess somebody has never seen him teleport." She stood up, put her hands on her hips. "Oh well, either way, this whole thing is just to get back at the spider. When she comes looking for you, we'll slit you real good, and then we'll do her, too."
When the woman left the room, Frank couldn't help but shout, "Yeah, that's right, bitch, get outta here 'fore I kick your ass!" Then he shook his head. "If I don't find a way outta here, Charlie's gonna get thrown into this. Shit."
Gather 'Round
Lyndon Johnson looked up as the door to the Oval Office opened and two men entered, one he knew and one he did not, who carried a briefcase. The one he knew was his Secretary of Defense, Robert McNamara. He was blessed with Robert, as the man had saved his ass many a time during the dealings with the public about Vietnam. The other man he'd never met before, but the name was Taylor Strong, and if what Robert had told him was true, Johnson needed to know what this man had to say.
Johnson stood and walked around to the front of the desk. "Mr. President," Strong said, "it's an honor to meet you." Strong reached out for a handshake, but Johnson didn't return it. "I'll get to the point, then."
"I would hope so, Mr. Strong." Johnson folded his arms across his chest. "Bob tells me that you have something important for us."
Strong nodded. "I do." He placed his briefcase on the table in the center of the room and opened it. He pulled out five file folders and spread them out on the table. "These five people must be picked up and brought in immediately."
Johnson picked up one of the folders, on a Brendan Nolan, address in East City. "Why?"
"Because these five people have abilities far beyond those of any normal human."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
* * *
Brenda Nolan had never been called the most attractive woman in East City, but the specimen she saw in the mirror was sheer male perfection. Muscles, hard and rippling. A cock, long and thick. She'd never been with a man anywhere near as built as the one she had now become.
Was this what that woman meant? Was this what being Chosen meant? I don't entirely understand why I have to be a man now, but... What did Dragonhead mean?
The otherworldly woman had said that, that Brenda would be reborn as Dragonhead. If only she could track down that woman, ask her what was going on.
There was a loud knock on the door. Brenda looked around for something to cover up, but she had nothing in her bedroom that would cover her new frame. She bolted into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, then wrapped it around her chest almost instinctively. She cursed herself then rewrapped the towel around her waist and quickly used sink water to make herself look wet. Once again she marveled at the man in the mirror.
She opened the door and saw three men wearing gray suits and sunglasses standing there. "Brendan Nolan?" the one closest to the door asked. Brendan? Only one letter away from Brenda, so clearly these people must know something she didn't.
"Yes?" That voice sounded so strange to her. It would take some getting used to.
"We'll need you to come with us."
"What for?"
"It's a government matter, sir." He motioned to one of the others who handed him what looked like a suitcase. "Here are some clothes. We were told you'd need them."
Brenda took the suitcase and nodded, then closed the door. Whatever's going on here, I hope I get some answers.
* * *
Johnson picked up another folder, this one marked Cynthia Tatsuko. "This one's an immigrant?"
Strong shook his head. "No, she was born here, her parents came here shortly before World War II started. She's the youngest of the group, at around eighteen years old. A very interesting one, she is. Lives in Los Milagros."
"She creates living artwork?"
"Yes."
"And how did you come by this information?"
"My group have been studying these individuals ever since we discovered a way to track them."
* * *
"You mean... These guys are here for me?" Cynthia Tatsuko asked. She wasn't very excited at the prospect of government agents knocking on the door and demanding she leave the house. Her mother just stood there, a grim look on her face. "Okay, okay," Cynthia gulped, "I'll go see what they want."
The girl walked downstairs and found three men in dark suits and dark sunglasses in the study, one sitting while the other two stood. Cynthia took a deep breath and then ducked back out of the room. She couldn't - didn't want - to talk to these people. Why would they even want to talk to her? She was a home-schooled teenager who had never broken a single law in her life, aside from that one time she spray painted a peace sign on the wall of the local recruitment office, but she'd only done that because her friends had pressured her, so was peer pressure really a crime?
She severely needed to calm down.
"Ms. Tatsuko?" one of the men said from the study. Cynthia took another breath and once again walked into the room, then sat down on the chair closest to the door.
"Yes?" Oh, crap, I'm nervous... I'm nervous... I'm nervous...
"You need to come with us."
"Don't you need to ask my parents?"
"You're eighteen, correct?"
"Yeah."
"No, we don't."
"Is this for something I've done?"
"I'm not at liberty to say, miss, you just need to come with us."
Yes or no? Yes or no? You don't have to go with them. It's not like the government is just going to detain a citizen for no reason, right? Oh man, oh man, oh man... "Where am I going?"
"Again, I'm not at liberty to say."
"Is there anything you can say?"
The man cleared his throat, "I was told to mention the 'Chosen' to you?"
Whoever sent these guys know about that. Cynthia gulped audibly. The day was about to get weirder.
* * *
The next folder Johnson picked up read Matt Douglas. "What about him?"
Strong nodded. "He's extremely accurate."
Johnson gave the younger man a sideways glance. "There are six men on my security detail who can nail an Ace of Spades on the top on the Washington Monument from across the Patomac."
Strong smiled. "Mr. President, Matthew Douglas can hit an Ace of Spades on top of the Washington Monument from Moscow using a paper clip. When I say he's extremely accurate, I mean extremely accurate."
"And what does this man do with this ability?"
"At the moment..."
* * *
It had been a month since Marcia Douglas has become Matt Douglas, and he thought he'd done a decent enough job trying to blend in and make himself completely unsuspecting. William had been a blessing during that time, coaching Matt's actions and reactions. He didn't like what he'd become, but at least no one thought that Matt Douglas was a woman who'd been turned into a man through some sort of magic.
"Can you please put those in a bag?" the woman in front of him asked, drawing him out of his daze. He grabbed the Spam cans that the cashier had placed there and slipped them into the bag. He shouldn't have been daydreaming. Thinking about the good old days was just idiotic, since the odds were good he'd never be there again.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said.
Being a bag boy wasn't what Matt had considered the best job in the world. He was just lucky that the grocery store had a no questions asked policy for hiring bag boys, otherwise he probably wouldn't have the job. William had suggested against it. Join the army, he'd said, with what you can do, you'd make it out alive.
But Matt didn't want to go overseas. He was afraid of how he'd feel around so many physically fit men. Homosexuality wasn't tolerated in the army, and he'd be shipped back and thrown away everywhere. No one would take in the fag who got kicked out.
"Douglas," the manager said. Matt didn't know when his boss had left the back office, but he was suddenly there, a grim look on his face. "There's a few suits from Washington outside who wanna see you."
"What?"
"They're not very funny, either. Get going, I'll get Max in here to cover your shift."
Matt nodded, then made his way to the exit. He could see them, smoking cigarettes beside a black Lincoln. What would they want with him? Did they know about his transition? Did they know about his power? Were they there to take him to Vietnam and put him in combat? The prospect of what this meeting could mean was frightening.
He opened the door and walked out to the three men in their dark suits and sunglasses. The closest one threw his cigarette to the ground, not even bothering to stamp it out. "Matthew Douglas?"
"Yes."
"I have to ask you to come with us."
"Am I in some sort of trouble?"
"Not that I know of, sir, we were just asked to pick you up. We don't know any more than that."
"Where am I going?"
"I'm not at liberty to say, sir, please just get in the car."
Matt nodded. "Fine." He could only hope that William would be told as gently as possible.
* * *
"And why is this one so special?" Johnson asked, holding up the folder with the name Linda Davies on it.
"She's strong. very strong. Not quite strong enough to throw an Saturn rocket into space, but strong enough to lift a jeep and throw it from the California shoreline to Midway."
"That sounds impressive, and dangerous. Where is she?"
"That's... An interesting story, actually."
* * *
"No, Davies, I can't put you back on the front lines," Colonel Fairfield said, setting his cup of coffee down on his desk. He had to see the angered look on the Lieutenant's face, though Davies had every reason to suspect that he wasn't taking her seriously. Who could take a pretty blonde seriously when she was angry? "I'm still waiting on HQ to explain to me what it is we're supposed to do with you."
"I can still fight, Colonel."
"I'd get my ass hauled to the stockade for putting a woman on the front lines."
She sat down in the seat across from him. "I'm not doing anything here, sir. I lift a six-by in the motor pool every now and again, but... Just sitting around waiting for someone to ask me to lift something is getting on my nerves."
The Colonel sighed. "I don't know what to tell you. I fought in Korea, and not once did I see anyone under my command go from male to female overnight. If the other men hadn't seen it happen, I would have just thought you were some crazy whore trying to steal shit."
Thanks for the honesty, Colonel... Davies didn't want to think about it. She just wanted to see some goddamn combat.
The phone on the Colonel's desk rang, interrupting the conversation. "Fairfield. Yes? Has this finally gotten through to you? What? Suits? The hell are suits doing over here? Fine, I'll do that." He hung up the phone and shook his head. "Get out to the tarmac. There's a few suits out there waiting on a cargo plane, for you."
"For me?"
"Lieutenant Linda Davies, exactly what they said."
I hate that name. Why'd Genaro havta call me that? Dammit. "Am I coming back?"
"They don't tell me that shit, Davies, now get your ass out there."
Davies nodded, then sighed. Something seemed really off about this.
* * *
There was only one file folder remaining, that of Austin Mathers. "Just tell me what's so special about that one," Johnson said, not even bothering to pick up the folder.
"He's interesting. He can create a creature using water, a snake or eel-like creature that can swallow a man whole." Strong smiled. "Not that he's ever done that, mind you, the creature's simply capable of it."
"I assume this knowledge comes from your observation of these people?"
"Of course. Where else could it come from?"
That doesn't matter, Mr. Strong. What matters is that I don't believe you.
* * *
"Step right up and watch the leviathan, everybody!" Austin almost demanded. There were a group of sixty-seventy people all around the tent, on the bleachers. All of them were excited about the prospect of what it was they were going to see. Austin was smiling. It got 'em every time. "Everybody ready?" The chant of yes was nearly deafening. So much so that when he snapped his fingers, no one heard it.
But everyone felt the ground shaking as the pool of water behind Austin began to bubble. He snapped his fingers again and the leviathan shot straight up, close to the tent ceiling. The creature circled the room, under the bleachers. Some of the people standing moved out of the way, a couple were drenched in water as the leviathan passed through them. The creature circled the room a second time, then returned to the pool from whence it came and sat there, like some tamed snake.
"The leviathan, ladies and gentlemen!"
The cheers began to drown themselves out, the tent was roaring. Austin could feel that the leviathan was nervous. This was only her third show, after all. Don't worry, baby, we'll get through this. He motioned for the crowd to quiet down, and all the cheers came to a slow halt. Get ready for the second move, okay? "The next trick is something special, everybody! Ready? Now!"
The leviathan shot straight forward, engulfing Austin. It carried him up to the tent ceiling, then they both dipped straight down, onto the ground. The leviathan could survive outside the water for almost an hour, but he didn't want to push it. He pulled himself out of the leviathan's body and then patted her on the head. "Back to the pool now, baby," he said. The leviathan could hear, even though the crowd was being loud yet again.
Austin watched as three men in dark suits and dark sunglasses walked into the tent from outside. It was no secret that they'd be here for him, but he was just about done with the show anyway. "The leviathan, ladies and gentlemen!" he repeated. "She's very special, isn't she? We'd like to thank you all for coming to the show, and we hope you tell all your friends and family!"
As the tent emptied, the men in suits remained. One of them stepped forward. "Austin Mathers?"
"On a good day. How can I help you?"
"We're here to ask you to come with us."
"I had a feeling. Is this for something I did?"
"I'm not at liberty to say, sir."
"I had a feeling about that, too. Can I just grab one thing before we go?"
The man nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Thank you, just a moment." Austin walked over to the pool and the leviathan stuck her head out. "Ready to go, sweetie?" The leviathan nodded her head. He pulled his flask from his pocket and a portion of the water that made up the leviathan flowed from the pool into the air, then into the flask. The leviathan didn't need much water to birth herself, but a bigger levithan brought a bigger crowd. The rest of the pool water was purely that, pool water, fed in through a garden hose.
Feeling okay in there, sweetie?
Yes, the leviathan answered.
Good. Just stay comfortable, okay? He slipped the flask back into his pocket and followed the men in the suits out to their car.
* * *
Johnson returned to his desk and sat down. "And just what do these freaks have to do with anything, Mr. Strong?"
Strong sat down on the table the folders were scattered across. "These men and women are the key to our national security. My group has discovered evidence that the Soviets are gathering a team of these Chosen for use against us, a move to spread Communism throughout the Western world."
"And why wasn't this information brought to my attention sooner, Mr. Strong?"
"We needed time, Mr. President. The Chosen don't gain their abilities at the same time, and we had to gather information. Had you been told earlier, it was likely that you would have sent a covert strike force into Soviet territory to deal with this without your own group of Chosen, but had you done that, your strike force would have been slaughtered."
Johnson didn't like being lied to, and that's how he felt, but he said nothing. Let him think he's in charge here. "How long have the Russians been putting their team together?"
"Not long, two months at the outside. Mr. Mathers and Ms. Tatsuko have significantly more experience with their abilities, Mr. Douglas is a natural with his and Ms. Davies is a soldier. The only one who will need to learn is Mr. Nolan, and it shouldn't take long."
Johnson pulled a bottle of whiskey and a glass from his desk drawer and poured himself a glass. "What will you need, Mr. Strong?"
"Six days. And a facility in Virginia."
"We don't have any 'facilities' in Virginia."
Strong smiled. "Mr. President, I'm sorry. There's a five sided building in Virginia, and underneath that is a nuclear bunker large enough to house the city of Washington DC with room left to share. Please, allow us to use it, and I'll make it obsolete. Once the team is done, nuclear war will be a concern of the past."
Johnson took a long drink of his whiskey. "If that's supposed to calm me, Mr. Strong, it doesn't. Something worse than nuclear weapons makes me want to change my pants right now."
Strong stood and collected his folders. "Forgive me, Mr. President, I was trying to put your mind at ease. I apologize for giving you one more thing to worry about. May I use the facility?"
The President took a long time to answer, then nodded. "Make sure they're our team, Mr. Strong. I don't want them running off and joining the Reds at first chance."
"Of course, Mr. President." Strong moved to the door and stopped just before exiting. "Oh, and Secretary McNamara told me about the recent setbacks with the Apollo program. I wouldn't worry about that too much, if I were you. Eleven's a lucky number." With that, he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, and Johnson was left wondering just what the hell he meant by that.
