by Dave Nesbit
Occasionally you have to think about the long term. I was that most vulnerable of things in the world. A minority. Worse yet a minority with power. It's one thing to be easily cut from the pack; quite another when the pack will, on a basic level, always see you as a threat. I was reminded of how I was in a world where perception often trumps truth.
“I guess I'm gonna have to be the sort of freak that makes others want to be freaks as well.” I responded. The answer came naturally, almost before I had a chance to consciously think of it. I had in one shape or form been a freak to my peer group for quite a while. With my obsessive interest in music, love of reading, etc. Now I was a social freak who could also fly faster than sound.
“Not bad,” Cathy said after a pause. “I like it.” I got the feeling I had given an answer she had hoped to hear. We finished the last bites of our cannoli; then left a nice tip and walked back out into the brisk Chicago air.
“I gotta go soon.” I said.
“That's okay, my folks will want me back.” She said as I took her hand. Her thumb rubbed the back of my hand as we walked. Part of me wondered where I'd change into my flight gear again. Part of me...
I gently pulled her into an alley and she followed with a giggle. “Oh no, what are you going to do to me here?” She giggled.
“This.” Moving my face forward gently I kissed her, and she returned it with some ardor. Tongues ran over each other, exploring and tasting. I could feel an uncomfortable tightness in my pants as their dance went on. Her leg came up and she ground against me.
“Maybe we should meet up earlier next time.” Cathy said, her cheeks were rosy and her skin flushed. I'm sure I looked much the same.
“I like this idea. I'll make sense of it after I get back to school.”
Her thigh grazed the front of my pants, and I tried not gasp. “Do that. I'll miss you.” She said with a wink.
“So will I.” I said wondering what else I could think of to say. The joy of being a teenager. All the desire in the world but lacking the language skills to do anything about it.
She kissed me again. This time grinding into me in a manner that was old as time.
Okay, definitely gonna get out earlier next time.
She disengaged. “Keep in touch this week.” She said and walked off. I couldn't help but notice the extra sway in her hips as I stood there admiring her.
She waved as she turned the corner and walked out of my sight.
I let my head fall back on the cold brick walls and took a deep breath. Letting some tension drain from me. Wondering where this all could lead. Liking all the possibilities I could think of.
Then I turned down the street and walked off. Looking for a place to change into my super suit.
Chapter 33
“A lingerie shop?” Hamilton yelled as he came into the house the next day.
It would be two hours before my next class. Now I had a feeling I would be getting lectured for about an hour and fifty minutes of that time. Even if I didn't know what he was talking about.
“Don't get me wrong boss but could you maybe give that a little context?” I was enjoying a cup of coffee and Lynn looked up from across the dining room table with a crooked grin.
Hamilton pulled out his laptop. Sure enough, there was a Facebook fan page showing pictures of me walking into the lingerie shop to change.
“Uhhh right, about that.” I responded. “I was feeling conspicuous on the street so I ducked into the first place I could find to change.”
Looking over the page I could see speculation as to why I was there. One poster said maybe I was there to get a gift for a friend. Others speculated on whether I liked to cross-dress. Still more made comments about slash fiction that was popping up all over about “The Touched”. It creeped me out to realize that my movements were being followed by strangers, like the very idea of me going to a shop or on a date was news worthy of anyone’s time.
That's when the other pictures came up. Cathy and I kissing in the alley. I was busy feeling kind of violated by that when my phone chose that moment to ring. Looking at it I saw it was Dad on the line. I held up a finger to Hamilton, to pause his lecture.
“Hey you didn't tell me your coffee date was that cute.” Dad said. As he did I could feel myself blush from the bottom of my soul.
“Hey Dad, can I call you back? I'm about to be bitched out.” I said.
“Sure, make the best of it.” He hung up.
Hamilton sighed. “I'm going to give a class on dealing with the media.” He sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee. “You and the other ‘Touched’ are officially the latest media sensation and you are wanted.”
“Look, I'll be more aware of my surroundings.”
“And what was the story of that scene with that idiot from Humans for Humanity?” Hamilton switched subjects and Lynn's eyes went wide.
“How was I supposed to know he’d eat at where I was eating? Once he showed up I tried to bail but he came over.” I said. Remembering the whole encounter, seeing Lynn’s reaction kind of made me wish Kathy hadn’t reined herself in.
“He's claiming you provoked him.” Hamilton said. He put a briefcase on the dining room table opened it and looked over a piece of paper.
“What's that?”
“A formal complaint about you to the school.” He said handing it to me, I gave it a cursory view. I could see that I was being made out to sound like a foul mouthed kid with attitude issues.
“Oh for fuck sake!” I yelled, as I slapped the table and causing it to jump. “Are you serious?” Then I realized what I had just done in relation to what the report had said and tried to find my calm again.
“Sadly yes, he is, he wants you disciplined for your rude behavior.” Hamilton said. He paused and looked up from the paper. “Could you get me the milk?”
I got up and grabbed a gallon of two percent and handed it to him. “Thanks, consider yourself disciplined.” He said with a small smile.
“Thanks.” I replied.
“He's bound and determined to make our lives difficult, isn't he?” Lynn’s voice sounded flat as she said it.
“Seems like it, he's the kind of guy who has made his life hard and wants to blame everyone else for it.” Hamilton said. His long legs crossing as he got comfortable.
“What do we do about it?” I asked.
“He's gonna try and crowd you, don't give him a chance, if you see him coming I want you to give him a wide berth got it?”
I ran my hand through my hair. Then let my head fall to the table. “Right, okay.”
“Make me feel better about life in general. Say that with more enthusiasm.” Hamilton said.
“Okay boss, I'll keep a wide distance between us.” I said. It was good advice and I had far better company to spend my time with than that clown anyway.
Lynn rolled her eyes. Then got up and left heading to her room.
Turning my head back to Hamilton I said. “She's so afraid all the time. I mean when we’re doing training or a mission she’s fearless but…” I let it trail off.
“It is her natural state. Or at least the state she learned to be in to survive. You guys have been good to her, but keep in mind even her own mom wouldn't stand up for her. It's hard to find your inner strength when you've been encouraged to be weak all your life.” He sipped his coffee. “You and the rest of the house might have been the first people she's known to encourage her to find that strength.”
“Hell, we just treat her like she's one of us.” I said.
“Now take a second and think about that.” He said with a shake of his head. “No one ever made her part of the crew before.”
I let out a long breath. “Damn.”
“Well said.” He finished his coffee. “Okay, I got other disasters to handle. Now if you could try to stay out of trouble, I would find it refreshing.”
“I'll do my best.” Then I remembered my meeting with Miss Fazil. “Before I go I need you to look at something.”
“If it seems infected go to the infirmary.” Hamilton said and rolled his eyes, it was odd to see a comic moment from him. It was refreshing as well.
“Really funny.” I said, then took out the packet of papers I had gotten from the lady who said she was with Adidas. “Is this for real? And even more to the point is it legal?”
He looked surprised and opened it up, his eyes narrowed then got wide. “Who gave you this?” His eyes narrowed as he looked it over.
“A lady who says she’s an agent for Adidas.” I answered.
“Where did she get this to you.” Hamilton asked, now he looked concerned.
“At the restaurant where I met Cathy and that dim wit.” I said. “Which makes me wonder how she knew I was going to be there.”
“Makes me wonder as well.” He paused as he looked over the pages. “Did you file a flight plan with O’Hare when you came down or did your folks drive you?”
“I filed a flight plan, it’s SOP right?” I said, knowing if I was caught just free flying the government wouldn’t be thrilled.
“Well it looks like I’m gonna have a word with FAA.” Hamilton said. “My guess is your friend from Adidas paid the flight controllers money to let her know where and when certain ‘Touched’ might be flying into the city.”
“Why go to all the trouble?” It seemed an awful lot of effort to corral one of us.
Hamilton sighed. “Look we’ve been trying to shelter you from the worst of all the craziness, but you and yours are high profile. Dare I even say celebrities. With that in mind, you’re going to be worth money to someone’s marketing machine.”
I shrugged. “I have no idea how to even think of that. I guess the question is, is it for real and is it legal?”
“Well it certainly looks real, and if you get your parents to sign with you it is most likely legal. There's nothing in the rules here that states you can't get an endorsement.” He shut the folder. “Has me curious what would you do with the money?”
“Pay off my folk’s mortgage, set money aside for college. Um...” I paused as I ran out of ideas pretty quickly. I could outpace any sports car in the world so that wasn’t on my list. I might buy a house to lodge a huge stereo in, but honestly I was drawing a blank as to what I would do with all the cash. It was like winning a prize in a contest you had lost interest in.
Hamilton set the papers down and shrugged. “Look, think about it. Then consider this. When you sign up with these people or any people, they're gonna want something from you. Every time you sign on with these people you're basically signing away part of yourself. Make sure it's not the parts you can't live without.”
He walked out and I took the folder full of papers, and looked at it. ‘Well that's a good way to kill the buzz.’ I thought as I sat back to think.
I’ll be honest, in my life I had never really had money of my own. Considering that I lived in the middle of fuck all nowhere, I hadn't really needed it. Now people seemed ready to throw it at me, and I didn't know what to do with it.
That seemed to be my refrain since this whole mess happened. I could handle making decisions in a crazy situation, or flying at over the speed of sound or perhaps fighting other members of “The Touched”. What I found difficult to handle was having fans, being thrown money, and having people who hated my guts because I had lucked out in the genetic sweepstakes.
Now if I was a typical dude I'd simply take the money, nail the girls and punch out the haters. But sadly I was me, and I had to think this shit through. Sure, immediate gratification would be awesome, but not at the cost of the parts of me I didn't want to let go of.
Still though it was a shoe deal, what harm could come from that? I'd get shoes and clothes and money. If I was gonna test the waters of this strange world I could do a lot worse.
I shrugged and grabbed my phone. “Hey Dad. I got something you need to look at.”
“What did you do?” He had a chuckle in his voice. “You said you were being bitched out.”
“No that’s all sorted, I got offered a shoe deal.” I said.
“Seriously?” I found it amusing that his reaction was much like mine to that news. The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree I guess. “Okay can you send me the paperwork of what they’re offering?”
That kicked off a host of questions. Explaining to Dad and Mom that an international corporation wanted to offer me an insane amount of money to wear shoes was fun and I’ll admit kind of good for my sense of self. Then Dad got down to brass tacks, lawyered up and went to work.
He was, as I said at the start of this madness a sales rep. He could read a contract pretty well, but he also knew how much could be hidden in language. To make things more interesting this deal was on behalf of his only child. Care to guess how much he wanted to make sure I didn't get boned by a major corporation?
While the lawyers went to work I kept on with the school thing.
Well I called it school, but lately it was a training program to get me ready for the inevitable. We were working as a group now. Ramon, Rachel and I as the leadoff hitters, Shawn as support guy and Lynn handling the possibility of injuries. It was, as teams go, not a bad combination. Clearly someone in planning and training had spent more than a little time thinking out who should go where house-wise.
Today we were working on a coordinated drill for bringing down a potential “Touched” bad guy. In this situation the bad guy was played by Mr. Thomas.
Which, if I were to be honest, made me smile. I had been looking forward to getting even for all the push-ups and other goodies he had laid on me after the Kyle Winslow incident.
His power involved sound manipulation. He could generate pulses at most any frequency and increase its strength as he saw fit. Which seems fairly useful if not too dangerous till you realize that sound at some frequencies can cause disorientation, pain, nausea and even death.
Yes, folks, the brown note is very real.
Today we were training in a small set of buildings in the back of the old Army lot. They used to be enlisted housing, but now were empty and remade to look like a suburban street. Above us there was a small drone using IR cameras to give us an idea of where we should be going. Once they had designated a target it would turn up as a red point on our glasses.
Rachel and Ramon in their red super suits flew above me. While I was on the ground trying to get a feel for any movement. The problem was that with all the wiring, conduit and other materials here I couldn't get a good feel for the area till I had some kind of movement on the ground to use a reference point.
I knew it was possible to stretch my senses further forward; but previous experience had shown me I would be totally overwhelmed with information I couldn’t make heads or tails of. Now I just focused on keeping alert. At the same time Shawn operated the drone, which he had modified way past its original specs, above us.
“Okay boys and girls.” Shawn announced into my ear. “We have movement at grid coordinate.” He then rattled off a few numbers. I was still working out the mapping system, and I was a little confused.
“How about a range and bearing?” I responded.
“Glad ya mentioned it.” Shawn responded with a jaunty lilt to his voice. I could hear Lynn chuckle in the background. “Try bearing 15 degrees and range five hundred meters. BOOM!” He said and a red dot appeared on my glasses.
“Game time.” I called out into my radio. I felt the waves of the Earth's magnetic field and used it to propel me forward. Shot forward from 0 to 60 in under a second. As I got close to the dot on my HUD I felt, more than heard, a sudden shock of energy coming from the house to my right and suddenly it’s big bay window blew out.
The shards of glass shot at me like bullets, but I had been practicing. With a look and adjustment of, my power, the glass shot around the compressed air shield I made for myself.
Of course that meant I had given Mr. Thomas a wonderful medium to use his power on. A blast of deep pulses powered through the shield and rocked me bac
k about six feet, slamming me into a 76 Nova that had been set in the street for realism, along with a host of other cars.
The sound had my inner ear reeling and it was impossible to stand. I didn't bother. Going to ground, I got a second’s respite and spotted another car on the opposite side of the street. Reaching out with my mind, I felt the body of the car and pushed it at Mr. Thomas's figure as he tried to exit the house.
The vehicle shot forward and slammed into the front door of the place. Wood exploded and the section of the house fell in on itself. From inside I heard Mr. Thomas yell. “Fuck!” and I chuckled.
“You two can join in any time now.” I said. From the corner of my eye I saw two blurs swoop down from the sky and flank the house.
Suddenly the place was surrounded by a wall of flame. None of it touched the building itself, but there was enough of it to keep anyone who had a sense of self-preservation from trying to leave. I was on the outside looking in and saw Rachel drop down into the midst of it. There was a short blast of energy that abruptly cut off.
“Got him.” I heard her say into the radio. The wall of fire came down and I approached the building. Mr. Thomas had the better part of a sofa wrapped around his body and his shirt was tied around his mouth.
“Hi, you're under arrest.” Ramon said as he walked in. “I really advise you to remain silent, or my friends might get annoyed with you.”
Mr. Thomas rolled his eyes. In my earpiece I heard. “Not bad folks, three minutes start to finish.” Watson said over the radio. “Come back to central to debrief.”
“Well what do you think?” Rachel asked. “Should we let him go?” She had been pissed about my early leadership training, and was still in the mood to exact revenge on my behalf.
The look we got from Mr. Thomas was withering. A glare that promised a lot of trouble if we took this joke a little too far.
“Might as well. I still need a good grade in history class.”
“Oh, if you say so.” Rachel said and focused her attention, the sofa unwound itself and the t-shirt came away from his face.
“Thanks.” He said standing up. “Although I think you might have been enjoying yourselves a bit much there.” He stretched his arms and walked through the hole the car had made in the house.