Justin hated hospitals. At their very core, being in the hospital meant that your life was in someone else’s hands. He could handle that it if was someone he trusted. Out in the field, surrounded by men and women he respected, people he knew were trained and capable to do their jobs well. People who would look out for each other, not out of some romantic idea of camaraderie or duty, but because they knew that they relied on each other for protection. A soldier who didn’t watch out for their allies had no one in turn to fall back on when they inevitably wound up in trouble. That simple concept of quid pro quo ensured that you could trust each other, regardless of whether your allies were good or bad people, selfish scumbags or altruistic heroes.
Justin didn’t afford the same trust to doctors and nurses. Stressful though it may be, hospital work was a job, with clear delineations between working hours and time off. No matter how dedicated they were, at some point every day the clock ticked over and your life became someone else’s problem. There was nothing to hold them accountable for your health, nothing to truly make them care, and most of the doctors and nurses were so tired and overloaded that they had to look at a chart to remember what you needed. When Justin got injured, he endeavored to let them patch him up and then get the hell out of there as soon as possible so he could go back to being taken care of by the one person he fully trusted: himself.
“If you would like to stay the night for observation-”
“No thanks,” Justin cut off the nurse. She nodded grimly, not caring one way or another. Moving slowly, aching with each minute shift, he stood up and felt down the line of his chest and stomach. An ice-pack was taped across his lower stomach, and the numbness made him feel like he could finally breath a little more deeply. The force of the shotgun blast had been dispersed by his vest, bruising three or four ribs rather than breaking one. It wasn’t the first time he’d been injured this way, and he knew what to do. “Before I leave, I need to visit my people.”
“Mr. Martinez is in critical condition, I’m afraid-”
“I’ll see him. Take it up with Spectrum.”
She didn’t argue further. Spectrum donated seventy-five million dollars to this hospital every year. They knew who paid their checks.
Justin walked slowly down through the white halls, moving with shuffling steps a few inches at a time. He’d known a lot of guys over the years who cranked up the bravado when they got hurt, insisting they weren’t as bad off as they really were, trying to get back in action before they were ready. Naturally, this led to further injury and a longer period of feeling useless. Justin hated being useless, so he endeavored to take it as easy as possible and let himself heal faster. As soon as he was done here he would take a cab home, drink two beers, and sleep for about twenty hours. But first, he had to see his men.
Hound was indeed in ICU, unconscious and hooked up to a variety of machines. A disapproving nurse watched Justin like a hawk, but he made no move to move any further than the doorway. Hound wasn’t aware of his presence; telling him he was sorry or some other trite platitude wouldn’t help him one iota. Justin was here for himself, because he had to see the consequences of his orders.
Hound had suffered a broken spine from the slam he’d taken. He’d be paralyzed from the waist down, there with the right physical therapy and implants it was possible he might one day recover the ability to walk, though not a fully able-bodied level. A rib had broken and pierced his lung as well, along with some internal bleeding. He’d live though, Justin was sure. That was something of a victory.
Phoenix was awake, though clearly groggy from the morphine. She made a choking sort of grunt when he stepped up to her bed, and he shushed her. Her throat was badly bruised, speaking would only cause her pain, and he didn’t have a damn clue what she was saying anyway. She’d lucked out: plenty of bruises, but nothing life-threatening. She’d be back at work in three or four weeks, unless she put in for longer medical leave. Somehow he doubted she would. She was one of those tough ones who liked to work through the pain.
Stepping back out into the hall, Justin slumped back against the wall and asked himself the same question as always: did I fuck up? Two of his men were casualties, and the enemy they’d been hurt by had escaped completely unharmed. He thought it over, standing there with his eyes closed for a good two or three minutes, then let out a sigh of relief. Thinking back, he couldn’t spot any glaring mistakes on his part. As soon as he’d learned of the second mask, he’d tried to get his people into position to extract Prism, and his specific orders were tactically sound. The damage inflicted was a straightforward result of an alter-human turning their power against a couple of normals. The results were bad, but he didn’t see any reason to blame himself. If he hadn’t already been injured, he’d have been there with Hound and Phoenix, and it might be him lying in that hospital bed.
So, no fault on his part. Bridges, and the rest of the suits who prioritized brand-name recognition and popularity over safety, were another story.
His phone rang as he was shuffling halfway across the grand entryway. Pulling it out, he saw the little cartoon devil face he’d selected to represent Director Bridges, and his side gave a sharp jolt of pain at his automatic sigh.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Feeling any better James?” Bridges asked with exaggerated concern.
“Fine. Other’s not so good.”
“I’ve got my secretary talking things over with the hospital director as we speak. Mr. Martinez and Mrs. Jefferson will have the absolute best care, I can assure you. Spectrum takes care of their own.” She paused for him thank her for doing her job, and he kept silent. Undeterred, she advanced to the next piece of her script. “Are you on your way back yet?”
“Was about to catch a cab, but it just took off.”
“That’s fine, we’ll have one arranged. In the meantime though, we have a great deal to discuss. I’m in a conference call with the board right now, and they’ve requested the input of our Alter-human Security Advisor. I’ll put you through right now.”
There was a beep and the acoustics of the phone changed slightly. He suppressed another painful sigh, and gave a grunt to show he was on board. Bridges introduced him to the board and one of the suits immediately started grilling Justin.
“How is that our companies super-hero was allowed to be humiliated in her very first official outing, with tens of thousands of viewers watching live?”
Justin spent the next twenty minutes answering the same questions reiterated about thirty different times, as each individual board member insisted on interviewing him personally, most of them adding nothing to the conversation. The board was mostly satisfied with Prism’s capture of Entropy, so the subject swiftly turned to the unidentified second mask, the one that had wounded Hound and Phoenix.
“The streamers have taken to calling him “Stalker,” and I think it would be a good P.R. move for us to adopt that officially,” Bridges cut in cheerfully. “It would help to make Prism’s fans feel connected to the company.”
“Very well,” one of the suits answered. “What do we know about this ‘Stalker’ character?”
“Nothing,” Justin said. He was ignored.
“Very little, I’m afraid,” Bridges apologized. “We’ve run every mask-tracker app we have available, and we’ve put out a request to the fans for any information they can provide about him, but nothing reputable has come up. There are no prior sightings of Stalker in Milwaukee or elsewhere. The current theory is that he’s either a brand-new villain, or an older one trying to rebrand himself into a new public persona. It’s possible he chose to attack Prism specifically for that purpose, essentially hijacking the live stream in order to get himself put out there for everyone to see.”
Justin remembered the way Stalker had taken hold of the drone camera, holding it up to his face for everyone to see before destroying it. It was undeniable that he had wanted to be seen, but it didn’t seem like an act of fame-seeking. The brutal damage inflicted to Hound and Phoenix had been needless, spiteful, as was the destruction of the camera. Justin couldn’t shake the feeling that the Stalker had been angry, despite his calm actions up until that point.
“Stalker didn’t attack Prism,” Justin said. “He protected her, helped her beat Entropy. He only attacked the Sec Team.”
“Perhaps he didn’t want to risk her powers?” a suit said.
“But why attack ordinary security guards?” another asked. “Did he feel threatened by them?”
“The weapons my men were carrying were useless against him. The same goes for Prism’s. He was only in danger from Entropy, and Entropy was already down.” Justin said.
“While we don’t have any understanding of Stalker’s motives at this time, we do have a bit more information. Let me introduce Dr. Omad, the ead of our Scientific Support Team for the Prism project,” Bridges said, as though expecting applause. Justin could visualize Dr. Omad in his turtleneck sweater and lab-coat, sixty-dollar haircut and custom designer glasses. He spoke confidently and casually, like a guest speaker dumbing down an explanation of quantum physics for a class of fifth graders.
“Well, there’s one thing I can tell the board confidently: Stalker is not a robot.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The technology simply doesn’t exist. When Entropy destroyed Stalker’s cloak, we got a good luck at his body. I’ve been going over the footage with my team, and we’re very certain. There’s no way enough tech could possibly be fit into his body to provide the range of motion we saw. There’s no way to fit enough of a power source in it either. A nuclear reactor would work, but there’s no room for a proper shielded environment to house it. We’ve inspected Prism, Entropy, and the rest of the scene where the battle took place, and there’s no radiation damage to imply such a thing. And of course, the exceptional problem solving and tactical decisions shown by this Stalker are decades, maybe a century ahead of anything the artificial intelligence industry has going right now. I saw a video online the other day of a robot that was able to climb a rocky hill, and that is what is considered progress these days. If Stalker is a robot, then he’s here from the future.” Omad gave a little chuckle to show he wasn’t being serious, and the suits began to grumble among themselves.
“So Stalker isn’t a mask,” Justin said. “He’s a doll, being controlled by a mask.”
“Exactly!” Dr. Omad said. “Unfortunately with the limited information we have available, it’s impossible to determine exactly what sort of powers the controller mask is using. For instance, there’s nothing to indicate how the doll can see, hear, or feel the objects it is interacting with. Perhaps it’s power is similar to yours, a kind of sixth sense that gives it the info on a purely mental level. Or perhaps it has hidden observers of its own, like our streaming drones, reporting info back to the controller. We also don’t know the range. Was the actual mask nearby, puppeteering the Stalker from around the corner, or was he relaxing at home on the other side of the planet? Until we get more information, we just can’t say. I do have my team scouring the archives to find any known powers that could possibly be used in this way. It’s a lot of work, but I expect they’ll have it ready by tomorrow.”
While the board members bickered among themselves, Justin considered. This Stalker had the potential to be a real nightmare. It was somehow immune to his own power, and highly mobile, making it capable of striking unexpectedly. If it’s body really was a metal doll with no electronic components, then it would be extremely tough and resilient. It wouldn’t feel pain, and any damage would only affect the damaged parts, leaving the rest of it in prime condition. The non-lethal armaments carried by Prism and the Sec Team would be ineffective against it. Depending on how its perception worked, it might even be immune to Prism’s flash attacks and decoys. That left her hard-light projections as the only real weapon they had against it, and they didn’t hit hard enough to cause significant damage. He’d have to talk with Dr. Omad, figure out some kind of custom-made defense against it. Stalker had attacked Entropy, but he had been following Prism before they encountered him. He’d been there because of her, not Entropy.
“I have a suggestion,” Justin said, his deep voice cutting through the chatter. Everyone paused, and he realized he hadn’t been listening to them, and had cut off two board members in the middle of a conversation. He could picture Bridges slapping her palm to her forehead at his breach of propriety. Whatever. They’d hired him to consult, he was going to give his recommendation.
“I do hope it worth derailing the discussion in order to put forth,” a woman said. Her tone was light-hearted, but with just enough steel in it to serve as a reproach. It was the first time she’d chosen to speak so far, but he recognized her immediately: Juliette Towers, the current CEO of Spectrum. She’d interviewed him directly for his position as security consultant, and it had been her idea to have him suit up as a secondary mask to support Prism. He’d been set to turn it down, not wanting to be tied to a corporation for so many years with the possibility that it could have a managerial changeover at any time, leaving him at the mercy of new bosses. She’d convinced him, mostly by stressing that his job would focus on protecting Christie directly. Somehow she’d seen through all his military and mercenary records and correctly determined that he would be more motivated by the girl than the salary.
“I apologize for the interruption, ma’am. Adrenaline is still a little high from the fight,” he said.
“Understandable. What does your suggestion entail?”
“Um, I know there’s nothing official yet, but the writing’s been on the walls for a long while now. Debuting Prism now, when the original time-table wasn’t for another year, it’s pretty obvious why. I mean-” He took a deep breath, tried to force himself to be diplomatic. These corporate types hated it when people spoke too plainly. “What I mean is, I’ve been guessing for some time now that Spectrum had plans to negotiate Prism a spot on the roster of The Partisan.”
The Partisan were the big-name heroes of Milwaukee. Originally based in Chicago, they’d moved north along with most of the refugees, then set up in the Midtown area as it was starting to truly come together, phantasm-shielded electricity grid and PDN network operational to make a little slice of paradise in the otherwise faltering city. The Partisan had been independant, out of their league against the multitude of villains plaguing the city. But they’d been smart, and they’d reached out to the community, building a fandom and goodwill. Companies and organizations began to sponsor them, and they finally had the money they needed to build an infrastructure to support their heroism. Now they were firmly in control of the Midtown-Heights area, with international recognition and a web of alliances with the other North American superhero teams. Spectrum had moved their global headquarters from Silicon Valley to Milwaukee about 7 years ago, the same time the Prism Project had begun, and their reasoning was transparent.
“The board has discussed the merits of having our representative aligned with The Partisan,” Towers said.
“My suggestion is simple: step up those plans. Contact The Partisan and offer Chri-, Prism a spot on the team. By now it’s common knowledge that she defeated and captured a veteran superhero on her very first outing, and survived a run-in with a new villain. Right now is the perfect time to convince them. Their roster is lower than it’s been since they first came to Milwaukee; they’ll be looking for new members.” He didn’t say the rest, that the sponsors of The Partisan were the same powerful businessmen that the directors of Spectrum rubbed shoulders with on a daily basis. He had little doubt that a position on the team had been negotiated months, even years ago. They’d have planned to have Prism go it alone for a time, probably two or three months, just to prove she was capable, and then join up with The Partisan.
With the Stalker after her, joining the other heroes was the best possible way to keep Christie safe. She needed comrades around her, peers who could stand side-by-side and defend each other against all comers. He and his Sec Team weren’t powerful enough to do that. Worse, Bridges wasn’t even willing to let them do what they could, not when it made Prism look weak in the eyes of the mask-obsessed community.
“I think Justin’s idea is excellent!” Bridges exclaimed. Justin blinked at that. He was always surprised when she actually agreed with him about something. “The Partisan’s popularity has been declining since Bastion left the team. Having Prism join would give them a boost and pull in a wider audience from The Partisan’s fanbase. We’ll profit, and they’ll be grateful to us for it. And most of the time The Partisan members patrol separately anyway, so Prism can still get plenty of individual attention.”
“Won’t that make her look weak?” One of the suits asked. “She fails to capture this Stalker right after he hurts her team, and then she immediately runs to another group for protection? It’s too obvious. She’ll be a laughing stock.”
“And what about Chaperon?” another asked. “He’s set up as her partner right now, but would The Partisan have high standards when it comes to their members. He’s not powerful enough to impress the public. I doubt they’d be interested in taking him.” Justin took no offense. He was well aware his powers were considered weak by alter-human standards. If it weren’t for the benefits he received as a registered mask, he’d have kept his powers hidden and pretended to be a normal human.
“James is currently off the roster, due to the injury he received today,” Bridges said. “So we can probably leave the possibility of him joining The Partisan for another time.”
He did find himself grinding his teeth at the casual discussion of selling him to another team. His contract with Spectrum did not include the right to force him into a different employment altogether. That was typical corporate thinking, making plans without even consulting the employees they were discussing, assuming they’d have the leverage to convince him to do as they pleased. He wouldn’t fit in The Partisan. He was too low-powered. Soldiers only protected the ones who they could expect to protect them in return. He was too weak to be worth the bother.
“Justin James’ suggestion is worth considering,” Towers said. “But I’m afraid I agree that it would make Prism look weak to join right away. We’ll begin negotiations with The Partisan, but she will only join after a reasonable amount of time put in as a solo heroine.”
“Very good! But, um, in the meantime, if she should be attacked by this Stalker,” Bridges said.
“Your team should put together countermeasures for that. Fortunately for us, the capture of Entropy establishes her with enough competence that we should have a decent window of time before she’ll be expected to face her next true opponent. Play it safe for now, patrolling in neighborhoods close to The Partisan’s territory, to discourage Stalker from coming near. And with Chaperon temporarily out of duty, I think it is quite reasonable for Prism to have some assistance from the Sec Team, don’t you think Director Bridges?”
“Ah, yes. I’ll get started drawing up new patrol routes at once.”
“And I have an idea for how we might discourage this Stalker if he should show his face again,” Dr. Omad said.
“Very well then. Mr. James, we appreciate your input, and your invaluable assistance in today’s events. We wish you a speedy recovery. Get some rest,” Towers said, the dismissal obvious. He muttered some response and was dropped from the call. His phone chimed, a text indicating that a cab had arrived and was waiting for him whenever he was ready.
He was really looking forward to those beers.
: Can’t believe Prism ran into TWO villains in her first day on the job? This is the best stream i’ve ever seen!
: Yeah too bad she coudln’t do shit against one of them. She wasn’t doing so hot against Entropy either until Stalker helped her out. I had my hopes since her power is pretty cool but it doesn’t look like Prism has it in her to be a real Superhero.
: What the fuck was up with that!? I’ve seen Entropy fight off way better heroes than her. He could have kicked her ass if he wanted to, why’d he take a dive like that?
: She kicked the ass of all those robbers though, can’t deny that. For her first time out she did good. Btw, does anyone know what Chaperon’s (lol that name) powers are? He’s registered as a mask but he seemed to just be another security guy.
: @ Ur an asshole! Prism is way more badass at 14 than you’ll ever be and your a jealous loser so fuck off
: I’ve been a MKE mask watcher for a long time and I Prism actually shows a lot of promise. Patroller had a way rockier start to his career and he’s a respected member of The Partisan now. With Bastion gone (sigh) MKE needs new heroes to pick up the slack. Maybe she can’t do it alone (Prism seems to lack the firepower she’d need to take out the really tough villains) but if she joins up with TP I think she could be a valued member of the team. As for Entropy
: Not jealous of a dumbass little girl who couldn’t even beat one villain without backup and Entropy hasn’t been relevant for years now. She should stick to photo shoots. Way more interested in this Stalker guy. Villains are always cooler anyway.
: Chaperon is some kind of Observer. Obvs not a very good one since he let Stalker sneak up on them.
<HotZombieF*ck*r>: You guys think theres anychance Prism will step foot out of MH and take on some of the real dangerous parts of town? The Partisan sure as hell aint helping over here in Oldtown.
: he has been on the decline for a long time, pulling his punches, not working with other villains. Theory is that he’s losing his powers but from what we saw Idk about that. I’d heard rumors he was working with The Pride; if that’s true, they’re sure to retaliate. Prism might have just made another enemy.
: No one anywhere knows who this Stalker is. Looks like some kind of killer robot, I bet a Genius built him. Do we actually know he’s a villain? He fought against Entropy
: @<HotZombieF*ck*r> Bitch better stay da fuk out of oldtown or she gonna get fucked up why don’t your dumbass move if you dont like it here
: @ Are you retarded? Did you not see him beat the shit out of Prism’s two security dudes? That look like something an upstanding member of society would do?
: The Pride has a Genius working for them, but I don’t think Stalker is a robot. Seemed way too advanced. Well whatever, the thing to take away from today is that MKE finally has a new hero on the scene and she’s already taken down one longtime villain. That’s good news in my book.
(Official Account): Hey guys! Thanks to everyone for your love and support today. Knowing you were all watching really helped me give it my all. I hope I put on a good show for you guys, and I can tell you that there’s plenty more to come.
Entropy is in custody and is being transferred over to the police as we speak. Chaperon’s injuries were minor and he’ll be back on the streets with me before long, but until then I guess I’ll just have handle things myself. The two Sec Team members who were backing me are codenamed Hound and Phoenix. They’re in a little worse condition I think, but Spectrum has assured me that they are being given the best care we’ve got.
I don’t know much about Stalker yet, which is why I need your help! If anyone out there knows anything about this guy, if anyones seen him before or even heard of him, don’t hesitate to tell us what you know at PrismSupporters@Spectrum.PDN
I’ll be on tonight at eight to give a little recap of today’s event for those who couldn’t be there to watch it all, but for now I’m pretty tired so I’m gonna get rested up! Thank you everyone for your support! Keep shining!
Christie’s fingers shook with anger as she typed the words out, and she had to go over it twice to make sure she didn’t leave any mistakes. She’d been getting checked over and cleaned up by the medics downstairs, fine heading up to her room, fine getting cleaned up in the shower, but reading the thoughts of everyone on the stream, even just a small subsection out of hundreds of thousands of posts, and the frustration welled up in her all over again. She thought longingly of the punching bags and sparring dummies down in the training room, but she didn’t want anyone to see her taking out her frustration. Maybe she could get a punching bag sent up to her room?
She’d had her costume sent back down to the lab, to be cleaned and repaired by the techs. After her medical check, which hadn’t taken long since she hadn’t gotten hurt, she’d been debriefed by Director Bridges, then finally been allowed to head up to her room. The adults had all seemed pretty distracted, busy with their duties, and they hadn’t asked anything else of her. She’d gotten comfortable in a pair of pink sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, then settled down to read the current posts on the stream, still going with over five-thousand viewers even though their was no longer any footage.
The computer rang out with a familiar melody, the chiptune intro to one of her favorite songs that she’d assigned as the alert sound for Katie’s call. She groaned, leaning down to bang her head on the desk. She didn’t want to talk to Katie. She’d be proud and excited, wanting to talk about how awesome Prism had been today. Like Christie should feel after her big debut. On the other hand, Katie was her friend. Without looking up, she clicked the cursor where she’d already arranged it on the answer icon.
“Uh, Christie, if you’re that tired there’s these things called beds you can use. Pretty sure you’ve got one in there,” Katie said. She sounded as relaxed as ever.
“Ughhh,” Christie answered.
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Katie’s tone was grave, and that made Christie look up. This wasn’t the reaction she’d expected.
“Hm?”
“I get it. Those guys that got hurt, they’re part of your team right? I’m sure it feels terrible to see them all in such bad shape. But they’ll be alright, right? It’s not like Spectrum can’t afford to take care of them.” Katie’s expression was serious, a little awkward, trying hard to comfort her friend. Christie realized she hadn’t thought about Hound and Phoenix for over two hours, ever since she’d been informed they’d been admitted into the hospital. What kind of superhero doesn’t think about the people she let get hurt?
“Yeah, they’ll be alright. Bridges told me their injuries aren’t serious. And Jus- Chaperon’s good too. Just some bruised ribs. I’m just pissed off! I should have been able to stop that guy.” Slamming a fist down on her desk, Christie let out a spontaneous blast of pure light, bright enough to temporarily blind anyone in the room. On screen, Katie flinched, but the full brightness wasn’t transferred to her screen. “I would have, if I’d thought he was a threat. For some reason, I thought he was helping me. I was stupid.”
“You and half the stream. You had to make a split-second decision. It’s not your fault. Shouldn’t Chaperon have warned you though? Isn’t that kind of his job?” Katie asked. Christie wasn’t supposed to let confidential information slip to her, but they’d talked about Justin enough for Katie to understand he could sense danger, even if she didn’t know the full details.
“His power didn’t work on “Stalker,” for whatever reason. I’m sure the docs will figure it out. I just hope they come up with a better weapon for me to use next time. A couple batons aren’t gonna cut it against that guy.” Christie was imagining some kind of awesome laser gun that would blast a hole in his chest in a single shot. Lasers were made of light, so it’d even be thematic. She wondered if it could be made so the lasers cycled through different colors.
“You thinkin’ he’ll be back? From what I saw it looked more like he wanted to stop Entropy, not you. Though… I have no fucking clue why he attacked your guys like that. Maybe he’s just a psycho?”
“Doesn’t matter if he comes back. If he doesn’t want to show, I’ll just have to track him down,” Christie said.
“Um, you really think that’s a good idea? Aren’t you at least a little scared?”
Christie had to suppress a sigh. She was so tired of people asking if she was scared. She really didn’t get it. Being a superhero was her job. She’d trained for years. There’s nothing else in the world she would rather do. Why would she be scared? Honestly, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been truly frightened. Her trainer Mr. Cook had told her the best way to respond to danger was to treat it as a challenge, and to push herself to see how well she could overcome it. She couldn’t wait to for another opportunity to fight Stalker.
“No reason to be scared. He ran away rather than fight me, didn’t he? Probably knew he’d get his metal ass kicked.”
“You should look into bottling that confidence of yours. People would pay for it.”
“I’m just worried that everyone will overreact and try to make me play it safe. That would be so dumb! I beat Entropy, just like I was supposed to.”
“Oh hey, did you see this post on the stream? About Entropy… shit, let me find it.” Katie’s eyes started scanning over her screen, her finger spinning the scroll wheel on her mouse.
“What about him? He doesn’t matter now.” Christie hopped to her feet, stretching one arm over her head. She couldn’t sit still any longer, she wanted to move. Maybe when she was done talking with Katie she’d run through some exercises.
“Aren’t you even a little curious what that whole heist he was pulling was about?”
“Hm? Oh yeah, I never did get to look in the trucks. Probably some expensive equipment or fuel or something? Something he could sell on the black market in Oldtown.”
“Nnnope, nothing so obvious. Ah, here it is. Click and paste: check it out.”
A link appeared in Katie’s message box, taking her to an article on some mask blog. She skimmed over the article’s text, catching a few words here and there, then zoomed in on the accompanying pictures. They were grainy, somewhat distance, probably taken by a civilian drone. The pictures showed the getaway trucks from several different angles, surrounded by police. The largest, central picture showed one of the trucks from the back, the doors thrown open, the police stacking its contents out on the street to inventory it. The truck was emptied out enough to show there was nothing of value hidden behind the rest of the goods. Which was just-
“Food? Why would they steal three trucks full of meat and produce? Did Entropy want to throw a party or something?” Christie asked. Frozen meat, bags of rice and pasta, bags of apples and pears, packages of bottled water… there was nothing of any real value anywhere in sight. It didn’t make any sense. Entropy was famous for robbing banks and museums, using his power open a tunnel straight into the vaults through a back wall or from the floor. It wasn’t hard for him to get money. Why waste time with this when he could have just gone to the grocery store?
“Weird huh? What do your crack intel guys think of that?” Katie asked with a grin.
“No idea. I’ll have to ask them.” Christie shrugged. Did it really matter? Entropy was a villain, and she’d taken him down. Now he’d go to prison, and she’d move on to the next enemy. Why villains did the things they did didn’t really matter. All she cared about was stopping them.
“Soooo… I know you’re doing a recap at eight, but there’s any chance as your best buddy in the whole world I might could get a little preview on that?” Katie asked.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything! How did it feel to fight an actual supervillain? What was it like getting shot at? How’d you do that wall jumping thing? You know, stuff.”
“Alright.” Christie realized she was grinning, and no longer had any desire to exercise. She spun her computer chair around and straddled it, leaning towards the camera. “Where should I start?”
Christie talked for hours, Katie nodding along or adding little questions here or quips there, and little by little she felt her frustration fade away.
Heretic 