For Mom
Humanity has a stench about it that isn’t found in Central. Instead of roads we have underground passageways lined with polished stone. They’re free from debris like the crushed soda can and sticky chip bag I step over as I turn into an alleyway that smells as if Death himself died back here. I’m not sure if it’s enough for us to save their lives every time a natural disaster happens. Maybe we should form a second Hero Brigade whose sole purpose is to teach the humans how to be clean and less disgusting. I know they’ve been on Earth way longer than Supers have, but as I hold my nose and breathe through my mouth, I can’t help but wonder if we deserve the planet more than they do.
My BEEPR rests quietly on my wrist, which is a good thing because the mission I’m on didn’t come from Central. The last thing I need is to be called to duty for some human emergency when I’m secretly dealing with an even more important Super emergency. A shiver runs through me at the thought; I am a Hero now and I am not allowed to consider humans unworthy of saving. That is my sole purpose as a Hero. But if I don’t say it out loud, no one really knows I’ve thought it.
Darkness falls over the alleyway even though it’s not yet dusk. The setting sun is blocked by the tall apartment buildings on either side of me so I have to focus my power into seeing clearly. A thought runs across my mind for the millionth time since I left home two days ago: Why am I here?
I shake the thought away without answering it because my intuition doesn’t have an answer, it just knows. When I left our underground home in the Grand Canyon, against the wishes of my brother and Evan, who I guess you could say is my boyfriend, I was on a mission to find my estranged twin sister. I have no idea where she might be and even less of an idea of how to contact her, but these are just technicalities. The sting of intuition in the pit of my stomach had told me not to worry about the technicalities. So I didn’t.
And here I am. Standing in an alleyway between two low-income apartment complexes on the wrong side of King City. I take a few steps forward, following the phantom pull in my chest that keeps urging me forward, until it makes me turn left and step into a side entrance of one of the buildings. One pane of glass in the double doors is broken, replaced with a wilted piece of cardboard and duct tape. I pull on the handle, half expecting it to fall off at my touch. A stale smell like mold mixed with cleaning chemicals fills my lungs as I survey the small room in front of me. The light flickers overhead, shining a blinking glow on two tattered arm chairs and one elevator that even as a Super, I would be too scared to step foot in.
I inch forward but my intuition comes to a complete stop, leaving me stranded in this tiny room with no idea what to do next. I take a deep breath, refusing to believe that I am wrong. I didn’t come out here for nothing—I know I didn’t.
The ding of the elevator makes me drop into a fight stance, one hand ready to release a pair of retriever hooks into whatever threat lies on the other side of the dingy door. The door grinds open, old metal gears squealing in distress. A child steps out of the elevator, counting a few dollar bills in his hands. My chest falls and I relax until I notice the strangeness of the boy’s skin. Translucent flesh covers his body, revealing deep colored veins that run through his arms and legs. His face is like a jellyfish; almost completely see-through to his skull. I take a step backward as a sensation much like repulsion mixed with pity toils around in my stomach. I’ve never seen a human with a condition like this.
He folds the dollar bills and shoves them deep in his pocket, looking up for the first time. Our eyes meet and he inhales a sharp breath that makes the veins in this face retract. He drops to his knees and lowers his head. “Please.”
My head tilts to the side as I wait for him to finish his sentence, but that’s all he says. Please.
“What are you doing?” I ask. Stepping closer, I drop to one knee to get a better look at him.
“Please, I have no more information. Please, Miss.” His voice shakes and his entire body trembles. I reach out and touch his shoulder which makes him flinch beneath my grasp. “What the hell?” I whisper as a soft current of what could only be power flows from his body and into mine. There’s no way. Humans don’t have power. “Stand up,” I demand as I also rise to my feet. He does what I say, keeping his head lowered. “Who are you?”
“I am a waste of life,” he says as his hands tug at the bottom of his dirty T-shirt. “I am not worthy of a name.”
“Who told you that?”
Now he looks up at me. “You did.”
He must mean Heroes in general because I’ve never met him before. “You’re wrong. No child is a waste of life.” I stare at him as he watches me in confusion. I don’t know why he thinks Heroes would call him such a horrible thing, but I’m going to set the record straight. “Where are your parents? I want to talk to them.”
“Mom is at work,” he says. “I am waiting for her to get home so we can buy food.”
“Where’s your dad?”
He blinks several times, his eyebrows drawing together as if he doesn’t understand anything I’m saying. I guess it’s not uncommon for a child to be fatherless in this part of town. He bites his lower lip in hesitation.
“Do you not know where your dad is?” I ask in my most friendly child voice. “It’s okay, you know. A lot of people don’t have dads.”
He shakes his head. “No, I know where he is. Don’t you remember? You killed him.”
Power bursts from my chest, causing the flickering fluorescent light bulb above to shatter into tiny bits of glass. One second later, the corner of the room lights up under the emergency exit sign. “Where is she?” I say through clenched teeth.