But, well, there really wasn't the time to be thinking all of that…
Short story short, I stepped in – without powers – to see what I could do, came across a great big rage-beast fighting against four teenagers, and somehow got noticed before I could do the logical thing and nope the hell out of there. Lung – because of course it was Lung – noticed me, decided (erroneously) that I was a threat, and the four teenagers decided (erroneously, again) that I was heroically buying them time to escape. They booked it soon after.
This.
This was what playing the hero got you in Brockton Bay. This was why we couldn't have nice things.
I should have known, really. Brockton Bay was where morality and justice went to die. I had a can of pepper spray to my name and my martial arts skills, which would have generously been described as none, and ungenerously as wild flailing. I didn't actually know if Lung knew much about fighting, on account of him being a fucking dragon, but I expected he knew a lot more than I did.
The only silver lining was that said dragon was currently less of a dragon and becoming even more - less? - so. I'd read somewhere on PHO that Lung's power was reactionary, and that he continued to grow so long as he was threatened. Rumour had it he'd grown as big as an Endbringer. It was both a relief and a kick to the guts that he was shrinking in front of me, despite the can of pepper spray I held in one hand. Sure, I didn't think it would do anything, but it had been a nice thought up until that point.
"Back!" I pleaded, "I know how to use this!"
"Adorable," Lung snarled, his mouth having recovered to something more capable of forming the words. "You chose a poor night to play the hero. Even poorer without any powers. Can't let you walk away from this."
"P-Please." Tears prickled at my eyes. "I'm no one! You don't have to do this."
"Send a message," Lung said, more to himself than to me. "You will live. Maybe. If you're strong."
Lung took another step forward, his height shifting rapidly from eight feet to seven. It made him no less imposing with me on my backside. He reached out a hand and fire circled it. One more step, only a few away from me. I was quite possibly going to die, and I'd not achieved anything in my life. If there was ever a time to get powers, I thought, surely this was it.
No answer on that front. No sudden powers.
It was on the third step that something changed. Lung's leg, extended outward and in the motion of taking a step, suddenly lost three inches. Not from combat laser or Deus Ex Machina reinforcements, but because I was so pathetic that his power decided Lung didn't need those three inches. Lung hadn't been prepared for it, however, and as his foot went through the motion of taking a step and failed to touch the floor, he stumbled. His hand shot out, catching the wall, and he lunged out with his leg again in search of purchase. He found it with a grunt – only to step on the lid of a discarded trash can.
The best way to describe it would be to say it was like stepping on a bar of soap, except that when your height keeps changing, it's apparently worse. Lung let out a roar of shock as the lid shuttled away. It struck my stomach with the force of a missile and I buckled, falling forward to press my forehead against the concrete, choking for breath.
Lung had no better of it, though. Already mid-fall, the slip hadn't helped, and he came crashing down in front of me – his face not three inches from mine. His chin cracked down and he spat blood, perhaps having bit off his tongue. His regeneration would take care of it, but I didn't pay much attention to that. Lung, the man who was going to kill me, was human, face-down on the floor in front of me, and obviously pissed. I knew the correct response.
I screamed like a little girl.
Luckily, my body reacted where I could not. Lung got a face-full of pepper spray nozzle and barely managed a garbled "Wait!" before I unloaded. I've never felt pepper spray before, but judging from Lung's reaction, it wasn't a pleasant experience.
Still stunned and in agony from the blow to my ribs, I couldn't bring myself to stand up and run. Instead, I held down the nozzle until the pepper spray ran dry, threw the emptied can into his stunned face, and then picked up the garbage can lid he'd thrown at me and proceeded to beat Lung over the head with it. When he started to grow, I turned it side-on and bludgeoned him even harder. His body shook with each blow, groans escaping his still-human mouth. On what might have been the fifteenth blow, Lung sagged. With a final moan, he slumped down over my legs.
Which was right about the moment a motorcycle came to a stop next to us.
---------
The man on the motorbike, who may or may not have been both a childhood hero and currently emblazoned on my underwear, looked down at Lung, back up to me, and then at the garbage lid I was currently clutching onto like a drowning man might a flotation device.
"You gonna fight me?" he asked.
I stared at him. "What?"
"No, I suppose not," Armsmaster said, stepping off his bike. He moved closer and brought out his halberd, and for a second I had the dreadful thought he'd hit me with it, before he pointed the end at Lung and something shot out. Lung's body twitched, but he was already unconscious and so made no complaint. Armsmaster put his halberd away and knelt beside us. He looked me up and down, "You need a hospital?"
"No," I said. "I don't think so." The single blow I'd taken had knocked the air out of me, and I knew there would be a bruise the size of Manhattan there the next morning, but a hospital was definitely out of the cards. Leaving aside my last encounter with one, if Dad found out I'd gotten into a scuffle with Lung of all people?
Yeah, grounded. Into the next century, perhaps.
"You're a new face," Armsmaster said.
"I am?" Ugh, stupid Taylor, I told myself. Of course I was a new face to him. It wasn't like I moved in the same circles as a famous hero. "Sorry. I'm a little shaken still. I've lived here a while, but I don't get out much. Certainly not this late and in this area." ABB territory.
"Your first night out?"
I thought it an odd question but nodded anyway. "I guess in a way it is."
"I'd question the sanity of going after Lung on your first night."
"It's not like I wanted to. I heard noise and someone talking about killing kids. I snuck closer, but Lung heard me and attacked before I could get out. I only intended to see what was going on and then call the PRT. I swear."
"You're telling the truth," Armsmaster said. Oddly enough, he made it more a statement than a question. "That shows good instincts. Too many your age think they're invincible. They try to solve problems on their own and end up paying for it. You were wise to try and hold back."
"Yeah." I felt my cheeks heat up a little. I was being praised by Armsmaster. "Not that it did me much good."
"It's long been theorised Lung might have superior senses when he is partly transformed. I suppose this might work as confirmation. You did your best," he said. "Sometimes the intent is more important than the result. You survived. That's a learning experience if nothing else."
"Y-Yeah. I guess so."
"I should tell you that this is the reason we have the Wards program. It gives new capes a chance to learn and have support, to grow into their powers with the backing and experience of other heroes."
"I-I'm aware of the Wards program," I said. I wasn't sure why he brought it up, but I knew about it.
"I see. I'll let you make your own decision," Armsmaster said. "There is one other matter, though. We need to decide who gets the credit for Lung."
I blinked owlishly up at him, "The credit?"
"Hear me out. What you've done tonight is spectacular. You played a part in getting a major villain into custody. You just need to consider the consequences."
"Consequences…?"
"Lung's gang has a major hold on a large portion of Brockton Bay, and beyond that he has numerous Parahumans under his control. An insult like this weakens the ABB, and that cannot be allowed to stand. If it is learned that you brought down Lung, there might be… reprisals."
Oni Lee. Or just gangers. I wasn't a parahuman and Dad was helpless. We'd be sitting ducks. I felt sick to my stomach. Oh Gods, what were we going to do? We couldn't afford to move, and I wanted to stay in Brockton Bay. This was where mom settled down.
"You have two options," Armsmaster said.
I interrupted him, "Could you take the credit?"
Armsmaster appeared shocked. I could see it in the small amount of his face visible.
"M-Maybe just pretend you did it," I explained. "I won't say anything. I mean, it was more a fluke than anything, anyway." I'd certainly not beaten Lung. "You're Armsmaster. If you say you did it, everyone will believe you. Please."
It wasn't that I didn't like the idea of being spectacular, or that I didn't feel a certain thrill from having survived. Oh sure, there had been fear before, but now that the adrenaline was fading away and I was still here, I felt amazing.
But I wasn't idiot enough to think that would last – or that I'd be lucky twice in a row. Lung slipped. Next time he'd just stand a little further away and incinerate me. If I had powers, maybe I could do something. But I didn't.
I was just Taylor Hebert. Regular girl.
"I can do it," Armsmaster eventually said, and for once he smiled. He had a nice smile, I thought. Even with the top two-thirds of his face hidden, it spoke of surprise, pleasure and also a little respect. "You're much more mature than I expected. More than many your age."
I flushed again. Two times in one night? I was going to remember this!
"I'll clock this in as my own and make sure your name isn't mentioned outside of official reports. What is your name?" he asked.
"Oh. It's Taylor."
"Tailor? Like a clothier?"
"No. Taylor with a Y. Taylor Hebert."
Armsmaster stilled, though only for a second. "Most would not give their name so freely."
Wouldn't they? It seemed to me a good way to come across as some kind of villain. If a police officer wanted my name, he'd get it. If Armsmaster or any other Protectorate Hero asked it, they'd get it and however much more they wanted.
"I've nothing to hide from the PRT."
"I see. It's good to hear that." Armsmaster stood and then offered me his hand. He was strong, I realised as he pulled me up. Really strong. "I've said it once, but I'll say it again. You're very mature, Miss Hebert. I think you will look back on this and know you made the correct choice."
"I don't need to look back," I said, thinking of Lung burning my house down. "I know I've made the right choice."
"I'm pleased to hear that." He smiled again, and my heart totally didn't flutter. "Here. I'd like you to keep my card. And perhaps you would be amicable to a visit to the PRT in the coming days. It could not hurt to at least visit the Wards. Get a feel for them. Who knows, you might meet them on one of your late night walks."
Whoah. Compliments, a handshake and now a tour of the Rig? I had to keep myself from trembling.
"Sure," I said, taking the card. I'd treasure this. "I'd love to meet them."
"Would you like a ride back to your abode? I would have to wait for a transit team to come and collect Lung, but I could give you a lift home…"
I shook my head at that. I was already on cloud nine and I had a feeling that a ride along on Armsmaster's bike might finish me off. It was a hard call, especially since I'd be able to feel his armour when I held onto him, but Dad would freak if he saw me come home with someone. Bad enough to imagine it being a boy, but if he saw me coming home with Armsmaster? Yeah, not a conversation I wanted.
After promising to call and visit the PRT, I practically skipped away from the crime scene, all thoughts of Lung pushed to the back of my mind. I'd met Armsmaster, talked to him, and been invited to visit the Wards. The day could not get any better.
Though I still wasn't sure what `choice` Armsmaster kept talking about…
Denial
1.2
I was still in a good mood the next two days at school, which was something of a rare occurrence and seemed to invite its own consequences. I could not have a good day; this was the law of Winslow, or perhaps the universe. To see me smiling must have violated said principle of physics, because Sophia was quick to interject and ram me into some lockers. Ostensibly, for the crime of existing. Naturally, no one witnessed this. Not even the teacher standing literally twenty metres away looking in our direction.
Truly, the world works in mysterious ways.
Life hadn't gotten any easier after what I referred to as the Locker Incident. Dad thought it would. Thought it had. I didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise, not that he could do anything other than make it worse. He seemed to act like everything would be solved if he got involved, which was rich considering he didn't even know who was involved in the first place.
And if Emma, Madison and Sophia ever were punished by the parents for this?
I'd only get it ten times worse the next day.
So, we'd fallen into something of an understanding. Or I had. They would hate me, bully me and turn everyone against me, and I'd exist. I'd take it. Not willingly, but because I had to, and I had no means of fighting back. Such was the lot of the downtrodden in a world where no one in power seemed willing to do anything. The teachers didn't care, the police wouldn't care, the PRT certainly wouldn't care, and while Dad did care, he wouldn't be able to help.
Joy.
But this, this was different. Still floating high because of my meeting with Armsmaster and the card I had hidden under my pillow, I'd reacted to Sophia's assault not with a stifled cry or helpless glare, but with a dopey smile and a distracted apology for bumping into her. It caught Sophia off guard. The insults were lost, and when I casually patted Sophia on the shoulder and wished her a good day, she only looked more confused.
She'd been so shocked that she hadn't crossed my path for the rest of the day – adding to the reasons I had to be in such high spirits.
Of course, it didn't last. When I came into school the following day, rumours were out that I was a queer and into SM, who got off on being bullied and mistreated. Now, I've no problem against people who are gay, lesbian or anything else, and there was even a part of me that wondered if these rumours might actually stop Emma and Sophia being physical with me so long as I acted like I enjoyed it, but in the end I didn't want to risk it and started to act more like I normally did in the afternoon, avoiding Sophia where I could and hiding my cheer.
Last thing I wanted was some ganger thinking I was into that kind of thing and trying to… well, the less said the better. And so, with me acting like I had before, life returned to normal. Or at least it did on the surface. Deep inside, I was still a little giddy and in too much of a good mood to really let Emma's barbs sting.
Armsmaster, Lung, an offered tour of the Rig. A chance to meet the Wards and, if I was lucky, maybe some other Heroes like Miss Militia or Velocity. It had taken everything I had not to call Armsmaster yesterday, the very moment I woke up, and only the fact that a) he might still be asleep after the late-night fight and b) the fact I didn't want to come across like a crazy stalker, stopped me.
How soon was too soon? The question struck me as one faced by people my age who actually had lives and romantic encounters – the dreaded `text scenario`. Text too early and you looked desperate. Text too late and you made the other person think you didn't care. Text too often and you were clingy. Indecision paralysed me for the whole day on that subject.
I didn't hold any misconceptions about my place in Armsmaster's world, of course. I wasn't that much of a dork. But I also wanted to come across as being mature. It was what he'd complimented me on and I didn't want our next meeting to do a full one-eighty and ruin that. So, despite my longing, I'd chosen not to call first thing in the morning, and then I'd been so unsure that I hadn't called at all for the whole day. The incident with Lung happened on a Wednesday and it was now Friday. I'd decided, therefore, that I would call this afternoon, some time after six, and see if I could arrange the tour for this weekend. The Wards would all be in school otherwise, and I didn't want to miss them - or face questions of why I wasn't in school as well.
Patience, Taylor, I told myself. Just have some patience.
Easier said than done. I couldn't stop thinking about it all day, and eventually decided that I needed some means of distracting myself lest I burst.
"If I'm going to meet the Wards, maybe I should get some new clothes."
I considered my tatty hoodie and pants. They weren't the best I had – I'd never bring my best to Winslow – but they were still somewhat indicative of my entire wardrobe. I was hardly going to turn heads when I met the Wards, not with my body and face, but I could at least dress a little smarter. The Boardwalk had plenty of shops I could visit, and while most were out of my budget I could probably find a nice blouse or jacket at a charity store.
It was probably going too far for what was Armsmaster repaying me back for the little help I'd given. He'd meant it to either cheer me up after my near-death experience or reward me for being a good citizen. Probably both. I didn't have to get dressed up or look my best. He'd not notice either way, or if he did he'd not comment on it.
But I would notice, and if I was lucky I might be able to come out of this with some pictures, maybe even some signed by him or the other Wards. If I was doing that, I wasn't hiding in a hoodie or looking like I'd crawled out of bed.
Sophia dosing me with orange juice after lunch made it official. I skipped out of Winslow before next period started.
---------
I hated the Boardwalk. I hated it with a passion.
Okay, that's a little much. The Boardwalk was okay, in so far as a geographical location can be okay – which is easy since they're not usually opinionated or prone to random spouts of violence. Not unless you started it first by tripping up and headbutting one. I'd never been betrayed by a sidewalk. A sidewalk simply was. In that regard, the Boardwalk was a perfectly upstanding part of the city. It's the people that shopped there that drove me up the wall. Wealthy, content and gifted, they were the antithesis of what I was, and a stark reminder that a lot of people in Brockton Bay couldn't care less about what was happening in the poorer parts of town. Out of sight, out of mind.
The Boardwalk was, however, the safest place to be in the daytime, and one of the few spots in Brockton Bay where you could go shopping as a young girl without needing an armed escort, a gun or pure Aryan skull-shape. Preferably all three.
My rummaging in some of the local thrift shops had netted me a modest upgrade to my wardrobe. Nothing special, but a clean, white dress shirt that someone slightly more gifted in the chest than I (aka, every woman above the age of twelve) had thrown away. It was still in good condition and the store owners had washed it back to a nice shade of off-white. I'd also managed to buy some black pants that had once belonged to a suit. The jacket was missing, sadly, but it was still early spring and the weather wasn't all that cold. I could wear a coat over it and take that off when I reached the Rig. Combined with some black flats I had back home, I'd look… honestly, a little over-dressed, but at least presentable. I was a tie away from funeral attire, but the trousers and shirt at least made me look more like a man than a flat-chested girl.
I wasn't sure why that made me feel better but, well…
Never mind.
A sudden commotion a few streets over caught my attention. The sound of sirens was audible, along with raised voices and some people making their way in the opposite direction, back towards my position, almost like they were running away from something. I couldn't decide if the sirens were police or ambulance ones, but given that this was Brockton Bay, I was happy to assume the former.
It was off in the direction of the Brockton Bay Central Bank.
I gratefully thanked whatever deity was listening that I'd withdrawn my money from the little envelope tucked under my bed instead. After just having tussled with Lung, the last thing I needed was to get involved in a bank robbery.
"It's none of my business." I'd check PHO later and see if anyone was involved, but if the authorities were already on the scene, there was no point in me going anywhere near it. I had what I'd come for, had my new outfit, had my old one in a plastic bag at my side, and it was getting on. Best I got back and changed before Dad got home and asked what the occasion was.
With a shrug, I turned away from the noise – and collided with someone.
"Ow!" I winced, rubbing my chest. When I saw who I'd collided with, I instantly felt any self-respect I had die. I'd run into a girl not even thirteen years old and been knocked back. Go me. She looked distraught. I just about managed to hold back from saying something unkind. Instead, I patted her shoulder and stepped by. "Sorry about that. Excuse me."
Also not my business. I just had to go home and--
Her hand snapped out and caught mine. "Wait! You have to help me!"
I'll admit that the first thought to cross my mind was "Do I?" I ignored it and shook my head, adopting what I hoped was a friendly expression. The sirens didn't appear to be coming closer, so I figured I was safe enough to talk to her. "Ugh. Okay? Have you lost your parents? What's your name?" I ran off the usual questions you'd think to ask a child with only half my attention. "Are you here with anyone?"
"Dinah," the girl panted. It sounded like she'd been running. "My name is Dinah Alcott."
"Alcott?" The name was familiar, but I couldn't place it.
"They're chasing me. I need your-" She cut off. Her eyes pinched shut. It looked like she was about to cry. "78% chance you don't believe me."
"What?"
"I'm a Parahuman! I have powers. They let me see things. Numbers. Chances of things working. 64% chance you believe me if you know the truth." Her eyes watered. "Please believe me."
I didn't know what to think. This had just gotten complicated. Parahumans weren't supposed to out themselves like this and it might have just been a prank, but a part of me – 64% of me, if she were to be believed – wanted to believe she was telling the truth.
In the end, I figured it wouldn't matter either way and rolled with it. "Okay. Say I believe you, what help do you need? I can't call the PRT. I don't even have a cell. I might be able to pay for you to use a payphone…"
"99.24% chance they don't make it on time."
Okay, not that then. "On time for what?"
"I-I'm being chased. Some people are after me. I don't know what they want to do, but they want my powers. I know I won't like it. They – They hurt my parents. They're going to hurt me. You have to help me!"
"People are after you?"
My head snapped up. I was suddenly nervous, scanning the crowds around us. No one stood out, but then again what did I expect – people with great big signs saying `I'm a child kidnapper`? This was out of my control. Hell, I could barely keep myself safe from my school bullies. What was I supposed to do if actual bad people were after Dinah?
This had suddenly become a whole lot more serious than I really felt comfortable with. My lucky break from two nights ago aside, I didn't hold onto any foolish notions I could do anything against genuine criminals who wouldn't trip themselves up.
"What do you expect me to do? I don't have powers. I'm just a regular girl. Hell, you're probably stronger than I am."
"Chance of escape triples if you help me!"
"It does?" I felt a sudden surge of… pride? No, maybe relief mixed with accomplishment. This was insane. Absolutely insane, but if the person who could read the future say I could do this, then I could. Powers were specific like that, or so I'd read. I took a deep breath. "Damn it. Okay, fine." I grabbed her hand. "We need to get you to the PRT, right? Or get you to the heroes."
Dinah nodded uncertainly. I figured the odds were iffy even then, but it was her best bet. Someone like Armsmaster could protect her a lot more than I could. Wait! I had his card at home. If I could get Dinah to my place, I could use the landline to call Armsmaster and ask him to collect Dinah.
Plan made, I tugged Dinah along – only to have her tug me back. "99.5% chance of capture if we go that way."
I froze. 99.5%? That… That was a lot. I looked in the direction I'd been going, back towards home, and suddenly noticed three men in the crowd moving towards us. I wasn't sure what clued me off. They were dressed normally. Maybe it was the fact they moved three abreast, and that they were too synchronised, too similar. The crowds parted for them too or were pushed aside. Their eyes were on Dinah, and as a few seconds passed by, I noticed the one in the middle look up to me. Our eyes met.
His pace increased.
As did mine. In the opposite direction.
"Come on, Dinah," I said, a little breathlessly. My heart hammered in my chest. "Time for us to go."
No complaints from Dinah. We made our way back up the Boardwalk, keeping to a fast walk. I had no idea what would happen if we broke into a sprint, but I didn't need Dinah's numbers to tell me it would probably be bad. If this was the Empire, they might open fire if they thought the game was up. It's fine, I told myself. We just need to lose them in the crowds. That can't be too hard.
I think it was that which let me keep going. This wasn't like Lung. These people were in the middle of the Boardwalk, so they couldn't go crazy or turn into big dragons. As long as we kept to the public areas, we'd be fine. If worst came to worst, I could scream for help. This wasn't the docks. The police actually cared enough about the Boardwalk to patrol it.
We'd be fine. I'd be fine. The numbers said so.
"Out of curiosity, Dinah. You said the numbers got better if I helped you, right?"
"Yes. They're three times as good."
"Okay. That's good." I breathed a sigh of relief. "How high are they?"
"3%."
"W-What!?"
"3%," Dinah repeated, a little guiltily. "Up from 1%."
Oh…
Oh wow…
Just wow.
You know, in my head `three-times` sounded like a lot. Funny how quickly that could change. So, Dinah had gone from screwed to still screwed, but now I was being dragged along for the ride. Great. That was great. Just peachy. My stomach dropped so hard it nearly tripped me. I started to drag Dinah along a little quicker.
"Thank you, Dinah. Maybe you could have mentioned that before I agreed to help?"
"100% chance you'd have said no if I did."
Yeah, I thought. I wonder why.
Three men in formation stepped out into the street ahead of us.
"99-"
"Thank you, Dinah! You're a great help!" I cried, dragging the little cape sideways, into an alleyway. It was abandoned, which funnily enough didn't make me feel all that much better. It was too late to just leave her and pretend now. I was in danger too. "Hurry," I whispered, breaking into a run. Dinah did so as well, still panting harshly and clearly exhausted. "This'll take is out on the corner of Main Street. From there we can--"
They alleyway in front of us was suddenly not quite so abandoned. We were cut off. Not by three suited and armed men this time, but by four people riding three giant wolf-like creatures. They appeared as surprised to see me as I did them, and one of them – a girl in purple spandex – stared at me in what I could have sworn was dawning horror, visible even through her mask.
The armed men closed in behind us, preventing any retreat.
Dinah huddled in to my side, gripping my hand. "Do you need me to give the numbers?"
"No," I said, somewhat breezily, mostly hysterically. "I think I can figure them out…"
Denial
1.3
I shouldn't have played the hero.
What an idiot. I had to be the dumbest person alive right now. If the definition of insanity was doing the same thing again and again and expecting something different, then I was worse. I'd tempted fate already with Lung, and now here I was, doing it again with some unknown soldier-type gangsters behind me, and a group of Parahumans ahead.
Four Parahumans. Four of them! There was a reason Capes fought other Capes; it was because normal people didn't have a chance. It would have taken four of me to have a hope against even a quarter of one of them, so having it reversed and then multiplied hardly helped. Was Dinah that powerful? Well, probably. I couldn't help but think her power was more trouble than it was worth myself, but it had already been established that I was a complete idiot.
About the only saving grace was that the two groups weren't working together. I didn't need to be a Thinker to figure that out since both groups were silent, and now stared at one another instead of me and Dinah. Not that it gave us a chance to escape, of course, but it granted me a second to catch my breath and think.
Okay, Taylor. Time to plan a way out of this.
No plan, huh? Right. Fair enough.
This must have been the group attacking the bank. I'd have liked to say it was clever deduction on my part which told me that, but the briefcases and bags they carried with them helped, not to mention that the sirens were closer now. I'd instinctively dragged Dinah towards them in our flight, realising that our best chance of finding help was to reach the PRT.
The four Capes, who I was sure I recognised somehow, were an odd and varied bunch. Honestly, the dog-things stood out more than the Capes did on account of the fact they looked capable of tearing my arm clean off. Two of the Capes were riding one dog, a very large, very scary and aggressive looking girl, and the other – a much more svelte girl who was even now staring at me. Her mouth was wide open, and… was that shock, or maybe even fear?
It was! Not aimed at me, of course. She was probably worried the Protectorate Heroes would catch up if they got bogged down here.
"Wait," the one on the motorcycle helmet said, a gruff, masculine voice that was somewhat muffled by the helmet itself. "Isn't that the same girl-?"
"It is," the one in the purple spandex said, almost groaning now as she cupped her head with one hand. "Now, now, let's not do anything reckless. We can work this out."
Reckless? What, like being here in the first place? It was easy for her to act calm; she had powers and wasn't being chased by people with guns. She didn't have to be afraid of anything. My breath came out a little quicker. I had to do something. No idea what but sitting here was going to get me killed. I had to do something.
"Hey. Hey! Calm. Stay calm! There's no need to freak out."
"The girl is ours," one of the men from behind said, revealing a handgun. "You shall leave her to us, Undersiders, or there will be consequences."
"You really don't want that," purple-girl said with a wince. "Trust me. You do not want this fight."
Undersiders? Wait a minute! I knew these villains, not just by their descriptions and names on PHO, but because they were the same bastards who had left me to die against Lung. Despite the situation, I felt my anger spike and my shoulders tense. I glared at the girl. An impotent glare, but a glare nonetheless, one that carried all my hate. I'd have liked nothing more than to drag her down off that dog and make her pay. I expected her to laugh and toss her head at what was essentially the ire of a gnat. I didn't expect her to recoil.
"Shit!" the blonde girl suddenly yelled. "Diplomacy is over. Grue, darkness! NOW!"
The one in the leather and helmet, Grue, reacted immediately, and the alleyway was suddenly bathed in thick, inky black. I yelped, more from shock than fear – though the sudden loss of all my senses was a disorienting and frightening one - and pulled Dinah closer to me. I couldn't see or hear her, but I could still feel her hand in mine.
"Dinah!" I yelled. My voice was muffled and different. I wasn't sure if Dinah even heard me, but if she said anything back, I couldn't catch it. Damn it. Were the Undersiders attacking us now? Why? Panic raced through me. "Dinah! We have to move!"
Dinah didn't respond, or I couldn't hear it if she did, but she didn't fight me as I pulled her down, the two of us crouched low. Navigation was all but impossible in the dark, and even moving through it felt like… not swimming but wading through some thicker-than-air substance. Were we heading away from the goons, towards the Undersiders, or in the opposite direction? I couldn't tell. At any moment I expected a sudden wall to smack me in the face, but whether through luck or good direction-senses, I managed to avoid that. Dinah's hand was still in mine, too.
"It'll be okay," I said, more to myself than her. I pretended it was for Dinah's sake. "We'll get out of this. It'll all work out."
A muffled crack echoed somewhere behind. Was that a gunshot? I hit the deck, dragging Dinah with me and praying it wasn't in our direction. I didn't feel anything hit me, but people always said you didn't feel the bullet that killed you. Except I was still alive. There was a loud growl – I had no idea why I could suddenly hear through the dark – and then a crash. Someone, a man, yelled out in pain or fear and was quickly silenced.
Whether it was from latent heroism or just panic-induced action, I pulled Dinah beneath me, shielding her with my body, my head over hers, one hand on the back of her hair to keep her hidden from view and any stray bullets. It wouldn't have done much, but somehow the action made me feel a little braver. There was another snap and a cry – and then suddenly, nothing.
Like smoke fading away, the darkness dissipated.
I knelt nervously and looked around. The Undersiders were no longer ahead of us, so I dared to stand and look behind. Of the six men that had followed us, only one was still conscious, and he was in no condition to be a threat, half-buried in some garbage groaning and clutching his left arm. The rest were slumped at the base of either wall of the alley, presumably thrown into the walls or knocked out and left there.
The Undersiders had gone past us – through the armed men – and then left.
I had no idea what to do. Despite moving around and trying to drag Dinah to safety, I was roughly in the same spot I'd started in. Had I really gone in a circle on the spot? It didn't matter. The Undersiders were gone and the men were down.
Had we just survived…? What was I supposed to do now?
"Hey!" a voice suddenly shouted from behind, startling me so much that I jumped on the spot. "What the hell? Did you do this?"
There was something off about the voice and it took me turning with a startled gasp to realise what. The words came from higher than they really should have, and the reason became clear once I looked up, seeing a girl floating in the air a good thirty feet off the ground. She was blonde and beautiful, otherworldly almost, like one of those models from a catalogue you assumed were more airbrush than skin. She wore a white outfit with a skirt of all things. I almost wanted to point out I could see up it. I also felt like pointing out that I once had a trading card with her face on. Emma had stolen it. Wow, here comes the adrenaline – and the hysterical thoughts. My knees shook.
"Hey," the girl said again, this time a little softer. She'd probably noticed that I was on the verge of a mental breakdown. "Are you okay? Do you need help? I can go fetch Amy. You look like you're about to collapse." Her eyes strayed to the downed men, and then to their weapons. "What happened here?"
That kicked me into action. I took a deep breath and staggered forward, tugging Dinah with me. "We need help. These men – they were after us. After her." I nodded to Dinah. "She has powers. I think they wanted to kidnap her."
Glory Girl's lips pulled back into a sneer. "Bastards. They're always after new triggers. You know who they are, ABB or Empire?"
"Uh. No." They weren't Asian, but I'd expected a little more racism from the Empire. "We didn't stop to ask."
A commotion from the head of the alley punctuated the arrival of another figure, and another hero I recognised. Were it not for the relief I felt and the lingering sense of fear, I might have squealed. Gallant stood behind Glory Girl, on the ground obviously. His suit of armour was smudged and clearly damaged, but he was still in one piece.
"Vicky," he panted. "What did I say about running- Oh." He spotted us. And then the fallen men. "Don't tell me you did this, Vi- Glory Girl."
"Hey!" Glory Girl said, for the third time. "You can't blame everything on me. Besides, this wasn't me. It was all her."
To my shock, she pointed at me.
"No, no, no," I quickly said, shaking one hand. "I didn't do this!" How could I have? "It was the Undersiders." I noticed Glory Girl's expression darken and quickly explained what had happened and repeated the story about Dinah for Gallant's sake. Glory Girl snorted when I reached the end, specifically when I mentioned cowardly hiding when the darkness hit, but she remained silent. It was harder to read Gallant's reaction because of his helmet, but he nodded along.
"It sounds like you got lucky," Gallant said once I was done. "We've not had any reports of a kidnapping, but things are hectic right now. We can take Dinah in and look after her. If she's a new trigger like you say, she'll need our help, even if it's only advice." His voice lowered, and he muttered, "And at least we'd have something to call a success. This whole day is a mess…"
The Bank. Since the Undersiders had gotten past us, they must have escaped the PRT and Protectorate at the Bank. That probably wouldn't sit well with the Ward.
"I'll radio this in," he said. "I'll get some teams to arrest this lot as well. You said it was the Undersiders who fought them? Not you?"
"O-Of course it wasn't me!"
"Why didn't the Undersiders attack you too, then?" Glory Girl asked. "If they wanted to get away from us, why not go through you and them?"
"I don't know. Maybe they thought it wasn't worth it. I'm no threat to them." As to why they'd spared us, perhaps we'd just been lucky. I'd hit the floor quick and dragged Dinah with me. Maybe they'd run right over our heads and we hadn't noticed in the dark.
Glory Girl didn't look convinced. "You sure you're not a Cape?"
"What? No!"
"It's just that you're fine. Completely unharmed, not to mention unarmed."
"Glory Girl, she doesn't have a costume," Gallant said, a hint of steel in his tone. "We have no right to ask these questions. It's the rules." Gallant turned to me. "But would you mind accompanying us back to PRT HQ? Your statement could really help put these people behind bars."
"Am I under arrest?"
"Not at all. We just need to get the full story from you and Dinah. And it would be best if you were both safe. There's no telling if there aren't more of these people out there waiting for Glory Girl and I to depart. Even if Dinah is the target, they might hit at you to stop you interfering again. I can personally promise you that your identity will remain hidden if you come with us."
Protective custody? No, not even that. It was just them wanting to get the full story. I couldn't quite hide my panic entirely, but I nodded anyway. I was innocent, so I didn't have anything to fear. And I didn't fancy walking home on my own after what just happened. I might be attacked again, either out of revenge, or a misguided assumption that Dinah and I were close friends and that I'd make for a hostage. I ignored my paranoia, telling myself this was the Protectorate and not Winslow. They wouldn't trick or turn on me. They were heroes.
"Alright. I'll come."
"Perfect. Glory Girl, can you look over these people while I get-" he trailed off.
"Taylor," I said.
"Thank you. While I get Taylor and Dinah back to the other Wards? The Undersiders will be long gone by now. We're not likely to catch them." He placed a gauntleted hand on the small of my back and led me away, while Glory Girl floated a little lower, not quite touching the ground but hovering a foot or so off it, arms crossed as she watched the downed men with a fearsome frown.
I couldn't bring myself to comment on it, even as I felt a wave of fear – likely residual from not one but two near-death experiences in as many days. If this was what being a hero was like, I wasn't sure I wanted any part of it. But at least Dinah was safe now.
Safe…
We'd found Dinah's 3%.
"It was good of you to help Dinah in her time of need," Gallant said as we exited the alleyway. "I'm sure the Mayor will be grateful."
"The mayor?"
"You didn't realise? She's the mayor's niece." He must have seen the surprise on my face because he laughed. "I guess you didn't. Still, to just drop everything and help someone in need like that, even if it puts you in danger. Those are some pretty heroic tendencies. I don't suppose I can convince you to join the Wards?"
I flushed at the naked praise, not at all used to it from a guy, let alone a Hero. He was just joking though, of course. I couldn't join the Wards since I wasn't a Parahuman, but the suggestion that I had the right mindset still cheered me up, as was probably his intent.
"Sorry but I'm not a Parahuman."
"Hm." His hum was noncommittal. "I understand. I'll make sure that's included in the report." He looked up, towards the road ahead, and paused. "I hope you don't mind, but I should ask you to wear a mask before we approach the Wards and the PRT. Standard procedure for Parahumans. To protect their identities."
"But I'm not-"
"Okay." Dinah nodded.
I wanted to slap myself a second later. Right. Dinah. She was the Parahuman he was referring to. I was such a dork. People had come to kidnap her, which meant someone knew she was a Cape, but that number would only get bigger if she walked out into the middle of a crime scene with her face exposed. She was the mayor's niece, so presumably a well-known face.
Gallant nodded and opened a small compartment on his armour and rummaged in it, coming out with two masks that were blank but for some small black dots, like dominoes. He handed them to us and explained, "These are standard issue masks for unaffiliated or unnamed individuals. You should both keep them on."
"Even if I'm not a parahuman?"
"Even then," Gallant said. I had the strangest impression he was rolling his eyes. "Better safe than sorry."
A cape's mask. It felt like a lifetime ago that I'd run around pretending to be Alexandria. Except that it was a lot more dangerous now. I had no identity or cape-persona to protect, yet if I walked out there alongside Gallant, the gangs might assume I did and target Dad. I'd be put in the exact same spot Dinah had been. I accepted the mask and put it on. Dinah did the same, and then inserted her hand back into mine. I felt oddly proud about that.
When Gallant led us back toward the bank, I had a chance to see the chaos caused by the Undersiders – both in terms of hostages being processed by the PRT, and several Wards who looked more than a little worse for wear. I tried to count the faces (or masks) I knew, but gave up after Vista, Kid Win and Aegis. The moment we arrived, attention shifted, and I was suddenly grateful both for Gallant's mask and my non-descript outfit, as several photographers started to focus on us, snapping shot after shot. If I'd come out here bare-faced, I'd have been splashed across the newspapers by tomorrow morning. I was lucky Gallant had thought of that.
Gallant acted like the attention didn't bother him but the same couldn't be said for me. I ducked my head and tried to keep my face hidden, despite that it was already concealed. I was relieved when Gallant led us to an armoured vehicle, ignoring the shouted questions of people being held back by PRT Agents. Gallant climbed in behind us and sat down, pulling the doors shut, and the vehicle was moving soon after. It looked like I'd be getting my tour of the Rig after all, just a little sooner than I'd anticipated.
Dinah's hand tightened around mine.