Prowess

Tragedy

Out of their entire house, the living room was Abigail's favourite space. It was fairly sized. With a big, L shaped couch and soft fuzzy carpet, aiding the faint light from the lamp in the corner to create the perfect atmosphere.

Cuddling, Arthur and Abigail drowsily watched a movie. The woman reflected upon how unfortunate it was that they were moving soon. She was hoping to be able to set the new living room up just like that.

At the first hours of the night there was a loud knock at the door.

Abigail sat up, waking Arthur in the process.

–What's wrong?—he slurred out.

The louder, incessant knocking was enough to make him sit up. Realization set at the bottom of his stomach. In a split second, Abigail was sure she would not get to set up the new living room in her own terms.

–It's them—Arthur realized.—What do we do?

The adrenaline pumping through Abigail's body prompted her to critically analyze their surroundings.

–Go get our stuff, I'll barricade the door—she instructed.

Arthur disappeared into the bedroom. Abigail set the stone kitchen table sideways against the door. The knocking grew in volume. Panic clogged her throat. Despite knowing she wouldn't, she wanted to cry.

Just then, as if knowing she needed him, like he always did, Arthur emerged from the kitchen. He struggled with the luggage. Two bags for each, with as much as they could get stuffed inside.

The woman took three out of the four bags. Then, she stopped to look at her husband.

–Where are we going?

–We'll figure that out on the way—he decided.—Let's just go. Through the bathroom.

Abigail climbed out the window first. As soon as she ensured no one was on the outside, she rushed to help Arthur. It was while he squeezed his way out that a loud, dry noise echoed through the house. Shortly after, steps could be heard.

The couple rushed into their car, parked a few buildings away, the license plate recently swapped out. As they hopped in, a woman turned the corner. Her gaze immediately fixed on them. She said something into a radio and charged in their direction. Abigail turned the wheel the other way and drove as fast as she could.

–You know...—she panted—This doesn't happen to normal people...

–Isn't it kind of depressing how we just had a plan for it?

Abigail laughed bitterly.

–Yeah, you can say that again... Where are we going now?—it was her turn to ask, eyes set on the road.

Arthur sighed, looking out the window. After a small pause, he perked up.

–The house! Let's go to the house. It's far away and we can start over...

–Too far—Abigail argued.—At least for tonight. Let's find somewhere to stay for the time being. Lay low until they branch out the search a bit more. Then we might be able to slip through the cracks and get there.

Nodding, Arthur curled up on the passenger seat.

–Wake me up when you get tired—he said.

–Of course.

–I'm serious—he insisted, getting a small smile out of his wife.—I don't want you to overexert yourself.

In the few moments that it took her to respond, he was already asleep. Still, she murmured the response to herself.

–Anything for you, darling.

It took the woman a few hours of fruitless searching to wake up her husband for a switch.

–Do you think the police has a warrant out for us?—the man asked from behind the wheel.

He wanted to fill the silence, but the impossibly close call was still occupying all the space in his mind. Speaking of anything else felt pointless and surreal.

The darkening of Abigail's eyes said what she didn't dare voicing.

–We have to find somewhere to stay.—she said, instead of addressing what he had brought up.

The couple drove a couple more hours, until both were worn out and discouraged.

–I think we should just-

–Look!—Arthur interrupted his wife.

Light flickered from a narrow side street. Abigail stopped the car. The man hopped out, grabbing two of the bags.

–Honey... You know I can carry them all—Abigail reminded.

–Just because you can doesn't mean you have to.

Rolling her tongue through her cheek, she stared at her husband.

–What, pray tell, is the point of having super strength if I don't put it to good use?

Instead of bargaining, Arthur turned and began walking in the direction of the light. Huffing and mumbling in displeasure, Abigail grabbed the remaining bags, following behind.

Arthur's suspicions had been right. A group of people slept, cooked and talked in the small space.

It all came to a halt as the couple appeared at the end of the street. In no time, Arthur's face was on the floor. He felt a breath on his ear. Two other men wrapped their arms around Abigail, in an attempt at immobilization.

–Who are you?—a very elderly man demanded in a raspy voice.—What do you want from us?

Abigail's voice sounded from behind the elder.

–Let him go, you bastards! Let him go right now!

The tone was familiar to Arthur. It spelled trouble for everyone. With a flick, Abigail sent the men restraining her flying into a nearby wall.

The old man let Arthur go, stumbling back, electricity crackling between his fingers. It did not slow Abigail's approach.

–Who are you?—the man asked again, his voice wavering this time.

Stepping between Abigail and the elder, Arthur monopolized his wife's attention.

–Abi-

–Out of the way!

Arthur didn't budge.

–We need help—he reminded.—Let me speak...

Despite the tensing of her jaw, Abigail abandoned the fighting stance. Apprehension filled Arthur as he turned to the group.

–G-good evening, everyone. My name is Arthur Aguado. This is Abigail, my wife. We're here b-because we really need a place to stay. Would it be possible for us to stay here? Just for a short while, that is...

–This place is for inhumans only—a teenage boy spat out.

–We are inhumans!—Arthur assured.

–I don't believe them—someone else said.

–That woman is not ordinary!—a different voice countered.

A subtle smirk tugged at Abigail's face.

The couple watched as the old man looked towards a younger person, perhaps in their twenties. They stared at the couple intently, their forehead faintly lighting up.

Then they turned to the old man and nodded.

–They're telling the truth.

The elder stared at Arthur and Abigail for a beat longer before relaxing out of his combative pose. Smiling, he patted Arthur on the shoulder.

–In that case, call me Edmundo. I'm sorry for the hasty welcome. Unfortunately, we are always on edge here.

The person with the glowing forehead also opened a small smile.

–I think you'll find this first impression does not align with the spirit of our community at all.