I made that happen, and it felt good. It made my body buzz with purpose and helped keep the thoughts of Joon at bay. Everyone passed with no pain or anguish in sight.
“You worked hard, make sure to take care of yourself when you get home,” Doctor B gave my shoulder a gentle pat. “And watch yourself on those roads. I saw that new ride—very cool, but I see too many bad results from those bikes. Take it easy for me.”
He lifted a device that looked like a phone to my neck and waited for the small chime to signal that it had registered. All Variant chips reported back to the VIA; any use of our abilities that extended past forty percent of our individual threshold were flagged, and the shitstorm that came after was a headache and a half. Being contracted through the hospital meant that my ability use was excused, as long as it was recorded and verified. It was the same as punching in and out of work—except if I missed a punch; I ran the risk of being arrested.
Luckily, my daydreams only took about fifteen percent of my power. Illusions, unfortunately, were an entirely different beast. I wasn’t willing to risk them, even on my worst wine nights, when I contemplated bringing Joon into my kitchen so I could stay conscious. Wallowing wasn’t on the list of VIA excuses, and I was sure a prison uniform wasn’t my color.
So I stayed lost in my daydreams.
I rolled my eyes but nodded. “Yes, Sir. I’ll do my best.”
He waved me off, and I was almost giddy as I pulled the new keys from my backpack and made my way to the parking lot. Minnie had said to try something out of my routine—I actuallydid my homework this time. It had been years since I’d been on a bike, and when a flashy new Ducati caught my eye, I figured…why the fuck not.
Joon always got anxious when I used to ride; always sending me new information on gear and news articles about crashes. Eventually, I took mercy on him and gave it up. It was an expensive hobby anyway, and I didn’t see the point in the risk anymore.
But now…I needed a little risk, I needed adrenaline and the feeling of freedom. I needed a change. My bike was waiting for me right where I’d left it, shining and black and perfect anddangerous. On the side, I’d had the name ‘Hopper’detailed in blue, my homage to Joon. I slipped on the helmet, smiling at the little horn decals on the top. It had taken a few days to get the inside altered to accommodate my own attachments, and the cost made me want to gag.
At least it was cute.
I revved the engine as I balanced myself, and my heart pounded with anticipation. There was an entire city to explore, and nothing to hold me back. I was tired of the grief, tired of feeling like a shell of myself, tired of guilt.
“Alright, Hopper. Let’s see what you can do.”
I wasn’t sure how long I drove . It was long enough to watch the sky turn from blue to orange and soft pink, and then to black. Long enough to see the neon lights go on, and watch Nightmyre begin to sparkle. Sometimes I thought about moving away, about secluding myself in some forest and living with a herd of cats in my house. But then there were these moments where, even in a city of sin, beauty reigned supreme.
Hopper had definitely lived up to his name—I pushed it tonight, twisting the throttle every time the traffic gave me a straight, clear path forward. I wasn’t reckless; not completely, anyway. Just enough to make my heart skip a beat, enough thatI knew Joon would reprimand me, but not lose his mind. For a moment, I was alive again.
But as the night went on, the city changed. The streets got darker; pedestrians were far and few between. It was the witching hour; or the hour of Villains, anyway. The time that Heroes got the most calls, when danger was in the air. I tried to ignore that first call for help, tried to pretend the music in my helmet was too loud to hear it.
Just keep it moving, Alex. You’re no use to anyone, anyway. A Hero will come, and it won’t be you.
The third call came clear in the air and filled with distress. I grit my teeth and scowled at myself as I turned the bike, following the sound until I spotted it. An old man sat on the ground, with a cut on his forehead that poured blood down his face. He held his arms up defensively as two men stood over him.
I didn’t think as I stopped hard, my body lurching forward with the force. My kickstand was out and holding Hopper up before I leaped off the seat, sprinting over to the scene. The man on the ground gaped and shook his head at me, as if telling me to stay out of it.
Don’t risk yourself,he seemed to say.
But I rushed forward and placed myself in front of him, spreading my arms out wide to look big even though my five-foot-two ass could never pretend to be. Two men gaped at me, then smirked at each other.
Rude bastards.
“Playing Hero tonight, little rider?” One with scales for skin chuckled.
I preferred physical mutations—it was always easier to determine what I’d be dealing with. But they were more difficult to track; the chip in their necks wouldn’t alert to them using illegal amounts of their ability, like mine would. If I used toomuch, the VIA would know immediately, and I’d be in an interrogation room within hours.
Drawing someone into a daydream was safe, but drawing in two without clearance would flag me instantly. I’d already pushed my luck with the VIA by taking a three year leave, and Minnie always warned me that I was walking a tightrope with the government.
I should’ve stolen Doctor B’s scanner before I decided to play Vigilante. Stupid idiot Alex.
“Back off,” I demanded, my voice muffled by my helmet. “Before the real Heroes come and kick your ass.”
Real Heroes. Not me. I was never really a Hero. Not the kind we need right now, anyway.
The second man, the one with a greasy man-bun and no obvious physical ability, snickered. “How about we finish with this guy, and then we’ll take that pretty little bike of yours?”
He lifted a hand, and purple zips of electricity sparked across his fingers. The man behind me appeared dazed, ready to pass out. He needed to get to the hospital, and I needed to get the fuck out of there. I ground my teeth together, fighting the panic that welled in my belly.
Don’t do it, Alex. Keep your cool.
