HERO

30 / The Park

Every journey apparently starts with a single step. Not necessarily a physical one foot in front of the other step, but an idea. A plan. A direction. Or that foot step.

Thomas and Bren were taking steps, actual ones, but they had no real plan. Going to see a man who dropped out of sight when you didn't know where he'd lived in the first place, let alone where he might have gone to, felt like an impossible task. They had hoped talking it through as they walked would have made it sound more feasible that it actually was. It didn't.

The park was fairly quiet. It was no longer a place of children playing or couples picnicking. It was one of gouged earth. Scorched and uprooted trees. A destroyed monument. An odd, ever bubbling pool of water that had once been home to a small fountain. The structure, a tribute to Barre's Peter Pan, was missing its left leg and the top of its head. It was laying face down in the liquid. The water temperature was ambient and, as far as everyone knew, contained no compounds that were not meant to be there. It had, however, bubbled – or rather fizzed – for six months. It didn't burn if a hand or other body part was inserted and anything dipped in remained untouched. The damage done to the statue was from a mother trying to show her daughter how to use her power.

It didn't go according to plan.

Still, for apparently no reason, the water bubbled.

A group of boys and a girl were playing football. They looked as if they could have been normal, if it weren't for the fact one insisted on skimming across the ground, barely touching it. The others kept telling him to stop and play fair, but they didn't really seem to mind. When one grabbed his ankle as he passed and threw him through the makeshift goalposts, they were all laughing.

Thomas wished he could be among them. Rough housing. Playing games, whether with or without abilities.

He'd never been one of them, though. He was forever an outcast, and he was bizarrely fine with it. There was now much more at stake than a ball game.

But, perhaps there was nothing more important. It wasn't just football. It was innocence, too.

Over in the far corner of the park, a solitary figure hung in the air. Their back was to the park and they hovered only just within its boundaries. The person faced the limp sun struggling to make its presence known in the watery sky and, otherwise, didn't move.

The boy and the slightly older girl kept each others hand held. They could have been a couple or friends or, as was the truth, two like minded children who barely knew each other, wanting to hide themselves from everyone.

"How do we find him?" Thomas asked.

It was the third time the question had been asked, but neither noticed. It was being passed from one to the other like a poisonous spider that, if held for too long, would bite the hand so desperate to be rid of it. They had no answers. Nowhere to start. No one to ask. Womack was a legend, one thought of in equal amounts as a saviour and a pariah. He had changed the world and the world had turned on him. Made it better. Make it stronger. Make it more. It transpired the Outbreak was an accident, though the details were so classified even the empowered had been unable to discover the real secrets behind it. Dr. Womack, genius as he undoubtedly was, vanished. Not through any power. He went into hiding to avoid facing the success that was also his failure.

"We need to start asking questions," Bren answered slowly. Thoughtfully.

"Who do we ask? I can't imagine anyone would want to answer."

"Oh," said Bren, her brow furrowed with either thought or indecision, "I have an idea."

She refused to be forthcoming on any further details, despite the prompting from Thomas. In turn, he was indignant at her attitude. They were in this together. She should be open with him. He asked her why she didn't want to tell him.