Blood Obsidian

Issue 15

A nest of hornets - Part 3

The wharf district, Riverside ...

"Yeah. No kiddin'. That new hero? Looks a little like Black Staff? Yeah, you know, that guy. They dropped down, right under the container, right? And I thought I was a goner, you know? That was it. Splattered, 'cos those things? Heavier than they look. So, anyways, that joker with the wings has already flown away but that new hero? They thought we were more important. That's good, you know, 'cos, some of those guys, they don't care none about the little people. I seen people caught in the middle of these supers fighting before and do they care? Forget about it. This guy? He cares, you know. Heard him almost screaming' when he caught that container. Still held it up 'til every last one'a my guys got out of the way. That's a hero in my book. So, uh, what was the question again?"

"I asked ... you know what, never mind. Go get checked up by the EMT's." Chief Watson had heard practically the same story from everyone interviewed. He gave a wave to his sergeant. "Get as many formal statements as you can but I don't think there's anything we can do here. It's an insurance matter now. No casualties, not our problem. Say, Suarez, what do you think about this new one? Friend or foe?"

"Couldn't say, Chief." Suarez looked up to the cables above, still swinging to and fro. "I think they want to be on the side of the angels, but that's not our problem either. 'This city does not condone vigilantes'. Your words."

That was exactly what Chief Watson didn't need to hear, his own words repeated back to him, but it was true. Strictly speaking, vigilantes were not welcome. The members of Bastion were a different matter, but these kinds of heroes, the street level capes? Too often they caused more trouble than they fixed. Little did any of Watson's colleagues know, but he and Black Staff had had an arrangement and, since Black Staff's death, crime had risen. Sharply.

What Watson needed was something he could aim. An ally, like Black Staff, that he could call upon in times of dire need. This new villain, Vezzpa, was only the latest and wouldn't be the last. New Hastings city teetered on the edge of chaos and Watson needed a weight to tip the balance the other way.

-+-

Meanwhile, high above ...

Caitlyn hunkered down on a warehouse roof not far from where Chief Watson stood, surveying the damage from her terrible battle with Vezzpa. She had made a complete mess of everything, acting contrary to everything Trooper Jane had taught her. She had ignored the enemy for civilians, allowing Vezzpa to escape and cause untold damage and misery in the future. She couldn't do it, though. People could have died.

She rubbed her shoulder, still feeling the pain from where the container had landed as she, like a dumbass, caught it. Caught a falling shipping container! That was insane, but it had saved lives. She had saved lives and that felt good. No, scratch that, it felt amazing. It was different this time from her other encounters, more substantial.

Before, she had fought in self-defence, or for Aunt Mary. This time she had fought for selfless reasons. Not for cameras, not for praise, just for the knowledge that she had the ability to help and had. Even as the survivors had raced to her, after putting the container down, clapping and cheering, she had leapt away. It wasn't about her. It should never be about her and she would make certain it would never be about her. Let the big guns in Bastion get all the press and the praise. That was her praise, down there. People alive that could easily be dead.

A thought ran through her mind and the suit dissolved away from the pocket on her clothes, her real clothes, where she had put her cell phone. A quick look at the time and she groaned, tilting her masked head back until it hit the brick parapet. She had missed classes and lunch. Alaina was probably having kittens by now, though she hadn't left any messages. A quick text and she returned the phone to her pocket, the suit filling in the gap once again.