“No, it’s a multi-multimillion dollar cellular network using direct satellite connections. It’s a perk of having a few rich do-gooders around. Since the de-powering, they’ve helped mobilize the vigilantes.”
“Wow,” I said, “I didn’t think this was that organized.”
“I mean, we’re basically a union at this point.”
She spoke about the heroes as if they were the type of people you’d go out for cocktails with after a hard day at the office. I had assumed she was one of the discarded vigilantes who never got asked to join a team because of her lack of powers. It hadn’t occurred to me that it might be a choice.
“Do they have any idea how they lost their powers?”
“Dr. Sincerbeaux believes somebody could do it with enough smarts.”
“Tech?”
“Well, Dr. Arcane believes its magic.”
“Nobody has a clue, do they?”
“None,” she admitted.
For all their efforts and godlike abilities, they were helpless. Their frustration warmed the darkest parts of my heart. And yet, it was undeniable. Without them, crime was on the rise and the city was under siege. It pained me, but right now, Hellcat was the most knowledgeable person at my disposal.
“Can I ask you a serious question?”
“Shoot, cowboy.”
“Why do you do it?”
I expected a fast reply with a sarcastic undertone, but all I got was a long pause. At first, I thought perhaps she hadn’t heard, but from the corner of my eye, she stared at the city. What had I been thinking? We weren’t close, and asking about the reasoning behind the heroics was?—
“I needed a hero when I was a kid.”
“There were more back then. Plenty for you to look up to.”
“No,” she replied. “Not role models. They shot my parents when a robbery went sideways. If there had been one, they could have protected my parents. Or maybe they could have gotten them to the hospital.”
A paramedic worth their weight could have jumped in and saved the day. I’d have gladly taken that call to ensure they made it to the operating room alive.
“I needed a hero,” she repeated. “Going out there is tomake sure there are fewer orphaned kids. It’s how I make my parents proud.”
I didn’t have words. The mask on her face promised broken bones, lacerations, and more than a few concussions. But it gave her a sense of identity, hope, and purpose. I respected her motivation, even if I didn’t agree with the outlet.
“And you?”
I held up my hands, inspecting the suit covering my skin. Prometheus had imbued me with power I still couldn’t fathom. Even if I could access it and turn into a living fireball, did I want to use it? His dying wish had made my stance on superheroes extremely murky. But despite my disdain, I followed her to the top of this building.
“None of this is by choice.”
“I don’t mean the mask, medic.”
Hellcat had seen my face without the mask. I shouldn’t be surprised that she uncovered my secret identity. I assumed she knew, but we weren’t going to talk about it like some sort of superhero code of conduct.
“Fixing broken things is my schtick.” It was my go-to answer when people asked about my job.
“If you say so.” She stood. Offering me a hand, she dragged me to my feet. “We’re at the end of our night. I need to get back to my life.”
“I should do the same.”
“Or…” She smiled, making her appear far more sinister than it should. “You can ask me why I brought you here.”
