Mom, I'm Bulletproof

Chapter 7.7: The Real Deal

A few nights later, while Amy watched a repeat of The Simpsons, the news interrupted with footage of the British Museum on fire. She jumped off her couch, remembering a disaster in London the same night she was attacked.

Using her super speed – and enjoying the sensation of it once again – Amy blasted into her bedroom and changed into her spare uniform. She opened her bedroom window, flew straight upward and over the city rooftops.

Amy braced herself for another onslaught of ibuprofen bullets, but it didn't happen. It was a pleasant evening, with the sky mostly clear except for a few wispy clouds.

She took a deep breath and flew straight upward as fast as she could. She expected the shift from blue sky in the atmosphere to the blackness of space to be gradual, but instead, the blue sky gave way to the blackness of space almost instantly, taking her by surprise, along with an instant painful chill.

Amy spun around and viewed at the Earth below her. It looked less like a big map and more like a giant mass of swirling whites and blues.

Amy figured that if she'd come this far, she might as well try it.

She flew farther and farther away from the Earth until the cold was too much to take. From this distance, Amy made out a large greenish-blue mass which she knew must have been the Atlantic Ocean. She could barely make out the shape of Europe on the other side of it. She flew right at the approximate direction of England, with gravity doing a lot of the work, drawing her toward the Earth.

Finding London was easy enough from that high up, but finding a specific spot once flying over the city itself was something else. After a few minutes, though, she finally spotted smoke and fire still burning at the museum. As huge as the museum was, Amy silently cursed herself for not being able to find it easier.

Amy flew toward the building's roof, finally seeing that one corner of it had been damaged and was raging with flames. The rest of the light produced by the building came out of its huge glass ceiling. She was about to fly right into the building to search for anyone who needed to be rescued, but she stopped when she saw something else happened on the roof.

A man dressed all in red, armed with a whip, struck out at a second man, wearing an old-timey top hat and black cape. His arms were long, snakelike tentacles, which he used as weapons against the man in red.

Amy knew she should have flown down and helped, but she didn't, waiting to see where this was going. Compared to Amy, this guy with the black cape was an obvious newbie, swinging his monstrous arms around wildly in the hope of taking down his opponent. It was a clumsy fight, with both men knocked off their feet for part of it. Amy was impressed at how the man with the hat didn't give up, even though he was out of his league.

This guy was the real deal. A superhero.

Police helicopters appeared, and were closing in on the streets, shining floodlights down onto the museum roof.

The man with the arms knocked down his enemy, who then appeared to die in a burst of flame. The new hero fell back, exhausted. Amy flew down to his side, gracious that, for once, she wasn't the one doing the fighting.

"Nice job," she called out. "You just saved the whole museum, you know."

The man saw her above him, wide-eyed.

"I'm U.S. Amy," she said. "Nice to meet'cha."

The guy wasn't much older than her. He stared up at her with combined confusion, exhaustion, and amazement.

"I'm... I'd shake your hand, but look at me."

Amy smiled. "I bet you want to get out of here."

"Yeah," he said, seeming hypnotized by her. Amy couldn't begin to guess what he'd been through to get him to this point.

She flew down close to him, reached under his cape, and wrapped her arms around him.

"What're you..." he started.

"Hold onto your hat."

Amy flew away from the roof, carrying him with her. He fell limp as soon as they lifted off, his tentacle arms dangling below him.

"I didn't catch your name," she said.

"I'm the Dreamsmith."

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Using her credit card, Amy managed to get a hotel room on short notice at a row of small budget hotels just west of the museum.

When Dreamsmith woke up at dawn, after sleeping on one of the two beds in the room, his arms were again normal. Amy was awake, after watching over him all night. His transformation throughout the night was gross yet fascinating.

They ordered room service breakfast, and he explained that whatever he dreamed the night before became his power the next day.

"I was cold in the middle of the night, and now..." He placed his hand over a cup, and ice cubes shot out of his bare palm into it.

"That's unbelievable," she said. "Think of all the things you could do."

Dreamsmith, who went ahead and told her his real name was Sam Woodstock, looked down at himself and blushed. Amy suspected that he hadn't told her everything.

They agreed to each pay half for the room, and they did their best to sneak out so that no one would think they had slept together. Before parting, they exchanged numbers and email addresses.

"You're sure you've never heard of anything called the Temple?"

"Sorry," he said. "But someone's up to something. They killed my friend and they attacked the museum."

They said a short goodbye, complete with a quick hug, after which Amy shot up into space. Before long, she was back in Boston, enjoying the sight of the city as she flew over it.

She no longer felt like the bad guys won. 

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END OF CHAPTER 7 

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Next: Back to school.