On my tenth birthday, my uncle Gabriel had shown up at the house with a cake and a carton of drinks. I had snuck into the kitchen while no one was looking and helped myself to my first taste of gin.

This was better.

A cool wind wafted in from the distance, giggling past my face. Waves, soft like a baby's kiss, sighed at my feet. I was in a boat, or on a pier at the harbor, but it didn't matter. Laughter from afar off bubbled up my throat.

In the distance, a bird in beautiful colors—purple and gold—fell from the sky. It landed in a cloud of spray and foam, rose, and tumbled back down. A deer in green and white followed suit, skidding across the ground. It came to a stop beside a pillar, legs splayed comically over its head.

I chuckled at the sight, then slipped into discomfort when the sounds failed to pierce my ears. I pulled off the mask and ripped the accessories from my ears. Ah. Much better.

An enormous bee swept past, buzzing in haphazard motions. It held a stinger in one hand and warbled a series of words. I tried to follow its movements, but my boat rocked with the waves. One side, ugh, then another.

“We're under attack!” the bee cried. “Kabash? Harvest? Somebody, answer me!” It righted itself in mid-air. “Dominic! Where's Dominic?”

Where was Dominic? Why hadn't uncle Gabriel brought him?

“I know where Dominic is,” a sing-song voice said, rising from the waves. I expected a pretty mermaid. But a tall, black rabbit appeared instead.

“Where?!” the bee droned.

“He's close,” the rabbit said. “But you’re not affected by any of this, huh? Every other person is out of it.”

“I am not affected?” the bee replied. “Who's not affected?”

“. . . never mind. It's probably the filters in your machine dampening the effect.”

I tuned out the discussion. The rocking boat made for better company.

“I’m Not Affected . . . is that my name? Wait, what about Dominic? Show me where Dominic is!”

“I will if you promise to get me out of here.”

“Huh?”

“You can fly, right? If I point you to Dominic, then you must fly me away.”

“Yeah. I-I can do that.”

“Okay. Follow me.”

The voices faded. The waves spritzed my face, sending sweet sensations up my spine. The buzzing returned. Someone climbed onto my boat.

The rabbit and the bee loomed over me.

“That's him,” the rabbit said. “That's Dominic.”

Huh.

“Dominic!” The bee charged, and the world spun end over end.

The boat at sea disappeared, taking the waves and clouds with it. All that was left was me, dangling upside down in the air.

Huh?

“Dominic!” the bee buzzed. “Dominic!”

“Don't drop him,” the rabbit said. “Don't kill him either. Just knock him out or something, and we can go.”

“Oh, okay.”

The bee tossed me onto the gallery. Tangible screws jogged loose in my head.

“You'll pay!” the armored creature said, raising a giant fist.

“No,” I screamed, lashing out with my fists. “Stay away from me!”

The armored bee catapulted backward, smashing through the balustrade.

Rabbit shrieked.

Hold on. I remembered now. I was a rookie Hero. One who had been on a mission to find—

“Dominic!” The giant robot blasted back onto the gallery. Its massive arms fell like windmills, crushing the ground.

I dove for cover, narrowly escaping a battering.

“I'm not done!” it said. It pointed an arm at me and a cannon-like device emerged from its palm.

“Hey,” the rabbit called. “Stop!”

I ran for cover, zigzagging past the benches.

Heat expanded behind me with a roar. I crashed onto a bench, slid, and tumbled to the floor. I was not dead, but by gosh, I hurt.

The ground rumbled as the robot charged, slipping across the floor. I clawed through the warmth and waves, finding the edge of a bench. It zoomed off the instant I touched it and smacked the hulking machine.

The robot cried, maintaining its course. A second bench barreled into its thigh, buckling its leg. It lifted its arm cannon right as the third missile collided with it. Vortical air shot up to the ceiling and detonated, dislodging thatch and debris.

“Would you both stop it?” the rabbit girl yelled.

Everything went white again. I fell on my face, landing amidst fluffy clouds. Sunlit fairies danced across my skin.

“Shit! This is why I don't fight Supers,” the rabbit said, racing for the bee. “Robot, come on. Let's just go.”

“Y-yes,” the bee replied, struggling to its knees. “G-go where?”

“Away!” the rabbit said. “Use that jet of yours, or rocket, whatever. Come!”

The bee shuddered and rose to its feet. Two wings unfurled from its flight pack, much like an airplane. But that was wrong. Bees weren’t planes.

A terrible noise went off. A portion of the wall crumbled at the onslaught of the cannon. The rabbit jumped into the bee's arms and they raced for the opening, flames fanning out behind them. They scaled the hole, and something flickered, faster than I could follow. It slammed into the duo, throwing them out of sight.

Uncle Gabriel’s gin sat undefended on the counter. I snuck into the kitchen and stole another shot.

“Up you go.”

I woke to the sensation of drowning. Kabash stood over me, a bottle of water in his hands.

“Sleep well, princess?” he asked.

“W-what?” I sputtered.

He tossed the robot mask at me. “Put that on and come outside.”

I wiped my face, looking around the hall. Two gaping holes marred the walls, letting daylight in. A section of the gallery had been obliterated. Below it, on the ground floor, Combat suits milled about, evacuating the hostages. Many of said hostages stumbled around in confusion, eyes wild and unfocused. They looked like they’d been woken from a vivid dream. Much like I had.

“I s-saw a r-rabbit,” I said. “I mean, a girl. I think that’s the person we were—”

“Just follow me,” Kabash said, walking ahead.

Just follow me, I mimicked. But I didn't want to follow anybody. My head hurt, and I wanted to sleep.

Outside the building, the rest of the team waited in front of our makeshift forest. Ardent stood among them, flanked by two of his men. Obong lingered nearby, failing at her effort to hide inside her hair. Toye scowled beside her. The latter glowered at everybody and nobody, somehow managing to look both runny and constipated at the same time.

I ignored Mr. and Mrs. Doomface and took a spot beside Alewo’s Habakkuk III. The mecha turned to regard me, but it moved in such a sluggish manner, it might as well have been empty.

“Oh, look. It’s Fingers,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Nice fight you put up there, for someone so dumb-looking. I mean, a mask, jeans, and a t-shirt? Someone, kill me now.”

A lanky girl sat in the middle of the clearing. Her dark skin—darker even than mine—glistened with sweat. Multiple piercings ringed her ears, clashing with the short curls of her hair. She looked happier than all my teammates combined. Which was saying something, considering her arms were cuffed behind her and a massive collar rested on her neck.

“Are you Dominic?” I asked.

“Well, duh.”

“Well duh, indeed,” Kabash said. “Pacesetters, you failed—woefully.”

All four of us tried to speak at once.

Kabash slammed an iron bar into the sand. “Can your excuses. I haven’t seen a more pathetic showing in all my years of service. And I assure you, I’ve seen some real nonsense. She earned a flawless victory, caused you to devolve to infighting, and nearly escaped had I not intervened.”

“We were misinformed,” Toye said, baring teeth. “We would have done better if you people had gotten your intel right.”

“Oh, we were misinformed,” Kabash repeated, imitating a childish whine. “Take the pacifier out of your mouth, boy. Servicemen operate on poor intel daily here.”

“What are you even saying?”

“I'm saying you should get your head out of your ass,” Kabash replied. “This isn't the West. Heroes aren't idolized here. Your every move is politicized, and the government will never stop trying to throw you behind bars. Everyone will turn on you the minute you fail to meet their ends. You need to be smarter.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“You told us her abilities were sound-based,” Alewo said in a small voice. “You told us she was male.”

The guilt must have been eating up at him, seeing as he’d facilitated her near escape. He had also tried to kill me in the process. An encounter I shouldn’t forget.

“Who told you he was male?” Kabash said. “You were informed the target's name was Dominic. You assumed stuff on your own.”

Dominic chuckled. “Hey, I get that this is important. Training the troops and all. But no one has said anything about what they intend to do with me.”

“Because the cuffs should have made it clear enough,” Kabash said. “You are in a lot of trouble, Dominic.”

“Haha. For what? Running away from you guys?”

“Not that,” Ardent said. The brick of a man glared down at her. “We have numerous reports of one Ava Dominic, who fled a foster home after doping the workers and robbing them of their credit cards.”

“Don't say stuff you know nothing about,” Ava spat.

“You've been on a reckless spree ever since,” Ardent continued. “Crimes include theft, carjacking, breaking and entering, coercion, and the unlawful use of superpowers on unpowered civilians. You have enough of a rap sheet to send you straight to jail.”

“. . . Fuck,” Ava said, chewing her lip.

“What is her superpower?” I asked. “Her real superpower.”

Kabash grunted. “She releases organic compounds into the air that act like pheromones. They have been observed to trigger panic, sedation, and a kind of hallucinatory behavior.”

So, a scent-based ability. Our earplugs were useless from the start.

“Okay, okay. You got me,” Ava said, eyes sparkling. “You guys aren't the SRA. They'd have come with more shooting and less talking. Judging by your uniforms, I'd say CAH. Saver's crew. Which means you don't intend to turn me in.” She grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Whatever deal you're offering, I'll take it.”

“Now, listen here,” Kabash started.

“What's the point?” Ava said, shrugging. “I know what you will say anyway. My record isn't too bad—in comparison to the real villains out there. Sure, you can hand me over to the SRA. They throw me in jail. I spend years learning not to drop the soap. Once those years are over, I'd be let out and offered a job in the same SRA. One I can't refuse. Lose-lose scenario for both of us.”

“Ardent,” Kabash said. “Grab her—”

“Oh, come on now,” Ava said, smiling up at us. “None of you are popular Council Heroes. Which means you are either new or the CAH has founded a base in Newtown. If it is the latter, you will need bodies. Lots of them. And recruiting me grants you one less enemy to fight down the line.”

Damn, she was good. I hadn't thought this far ahead back in the container with Pro-now. I must have whistled because Kabash glanced sharply at me.

“Take her away,” Kabash said, rubbing his forehead behind the mask. “I can't deal with this sort of thing. That's Pro-now's forte.”

Ardent and his team escorted Ava out of the beach.

“Won't she be trouble?” I asked.

“Suppression collar,” Kabash said. “Reacts to power use and deploys a preset voltage in response.”

“Oh.”

Silence descended over the area. Combat suits escorted the last of the victims out of the beach house.

“I should probably get rid of the trees,” Obong said in a small voice.

“Not yet,” Kabash replied. “I want to be sure you all understood what went wrong today.”

“What went wrong,” Toye hissed more than said, “is that you purposefully sabotaged our mission to make us look bad.”

“Sabotaged? Yes,” Kabash said. “With malicious intent? No. The higher-ups were on board with this.”

“You lied to us!”

“And that is the point I am trying to make,” Kabash said. “Are you dumb or are you willingly not getting it?”

For a half-second, I thought Toye would attack. The muscles on his shoulders tensed and his knees bent at an angle. Then the moment passed, and he balled his fists, turning away.

Toye wasn't my most favorite teammate . . . okay, he was my least favorite. But it was hard to see where Kabash was coming from. We had been eager to prove ourselves only to end up looking like fools. The outcome stung something fierce, and learning that events had turned out this way because our superiors desired it didn't exactly help matters.

Kabash glanced at each of us, but no one met his gaze. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, guys. There's a valuable lesson to learn here. And I won't have you thinking we played this for laughs. Being a Superhero in these parts . . . well, it can be pretty unforgiving.” He paused. “Look at me.”

Toye and Obong failed to respond.

“Look at me!”

They turned sour gazes on him.

Kabash divested himself of the top part of his costume. He was well-built, even more so than Toye. A barrel-like chest sat above razor-sharp abs. And marring those abs . . .

“Bullet wounds,” I said.

Kabash nodded. “Some of you might know this, but before joining the CAH, I operated as a vigilante sans bodyguard for hire. Went by the name Rustic. I often worked with political envoys, ensuring the safe passage of public office holders through high-risk zones.”

Little wonder then that he seemed so confident in his abilities. A bodyguard of that caliber could easily amass a great wealth of experience.

“This happened two years ago,” Kabash said, gesturing to his scars. “It was a routine job. Join a convoy to pick up a minister from an event. Escort him safely to his state. Only problem was, this minister was friends with a governor whose illegal operations I’d foiled a while back. The minister had no intention of returning with me. Worse, they didn't even want me at the venue. I was reading a newspaper in the backseat when the policeman beside me pulled a gun and emptied clips in my belly.”

Obong’s hands flew to her mouth.

Kabash’s voice stayed level. “Naturally, I escaped. Managed to reach a friend on the CAH who cashed in a favor with one of the Twelve. You might have heard of him, the Hero named World Tour. He got me to ER in seconds. Seconds which saved my life. I would have been dead otherwise.”

Something stirred within me at his story. A deeply buried memory, one of an aged Super and . . .

My head ached. “What did you do after?” I asked instead.

“What didn't I do?” Kabash replied, replacing his costume. “I got the help of the CAH, and together, we pressed charges. We were certain that the minister was in cahoots with the governor. Could almost prove it too. However, both men slithered away, leaving their security detail out to dry. It didn't help that the operation was funded via proxy. We traced the funder to an address in St. Kitts. World Tour went visiting, only to find an empty farmland at the location. I quit the guard thing, moved to Newtown and have been with the CAH since.”

Clouds rolled across the sun. The trees rustled behind us.

The Habakkuk’s speakers stuttered. “So that's why . . .”

“Yes, that's why,” Kabash said. “That's why your first field lesson is on the merits of always keeping your guard up. Intel may fail or intentionally mislead you. Saboteurs exist around you. We deal with superpowers. Situations change on a dime and spontaneity is the rule of the game.” He rubbed his jaw, chuckling. “That's not to say you should inherently distrust the Hero Council. But you need to learn to ask the right questions.

“Activity,” he said—and the dyed blond teen perked up—“your error today was not properly utilizing the resources at your disposal. Volley might have been the least suited for this mission, but he is also your long-range harrier. You should have left him outside to cover exit routes. You also didn't think to mask your approach until the last possible moment. Having all four of you barge into a situation that stymied professionals was not exactly smart. I expect better next time.”

“Yeah,” Toye said.

“To that end, you've been demoted as team leader,” Kabash continued. “It wasn't a permanent position anyway, and we’ll like some more time to observe how you all respond to stressful conditions. The final decision will be up to the brass.”

Toye glared at the ground. “Yeah.”

“Good. We’ll return to the base now. Harvest, get the trees.”

Obong closed her eyes. The forest receded; the process surreal. Trees shriveled and dried, leaves going from vivid green to rust-brown. They shrunk, slowly at first, then faster, until the giant shoots became little other than miniature stalks. The last of them wormed into the ground, leaving nothing but sand.

An even bigger crowd littered the parking lot when we returned. They cheered as we approached, though I wasn’t sure if it was for the sight of us or because they could return to their beach. We clambered into the SUV, thanking the Combat suits positioned around it.

“You aren’t going to fly?” Obong said, looking at Alewo. The mecha trekked after us, arms limp at its side. It had probably been the reason for the cheers.

“Err, I don’t think I can,” Alewo said. “I ran out of kerosene on the way here. Might need a refill.”

“You use regular kerosene?” I asked.

“Well, yeah, with a few custom additives.” He broke into a ramble. “I started out without the privilege of the CAH, you know? I didn’t have money, so I got by using what scraps I could find. The first Habakkuk had piston pump engines. In retrospect, that was kinda silly.”

“There's a filling station nearby,” Kabash said, riding shotgun. “Just follow along.”

We pulled out of the beach and onto the highway. Any other day, I might have chuckled at how hilarious we looked driving down the road, a giant robot thingy running behind us. Now, I barely batted an eye. In less than three hours, I’d adjusted to this crazy lifestyle.

The nearby filling station had a kerosene pump and we waited out in the open as Alewo filled the Habakkuk's tank. The attendant was stuck in perpetual distress, oscillating between states of confusion and awe. I leaned against the bonnet of the vehicle, shielding my eyes against the flashes of camera phones. The day had left a bittersweet taste in my mouth. In compensation, the headlines on The Bastion tomorrow were sure to be hilarious.

Mom picked on the third ring. I was back at base, sprawled on the bed in my room. Kabash's mask rested over my face. It proved a little stuffy, but I wasn't up to removing it just yet.

“Hello?” she said.

“Mom, good evening.”

“Oh my god, Chachi.” She sounded breathless. “It’s almost eight! I've been trying to reach you. Where did you keep your phone?”

Typical mom. “That one's offline. The company gave me a new one. You can reach me here now.”

“What? Did something happen?”

“Work reasons,” I said. “I need to keep proper call logs and stuff.” It was a lame excuse but mom was nowhere near tech-savvy.

“Oh okay. Did you arrive safely at the camp?”

“Yeah, hours ago. Sorry I didn't call you. I was put through an impromptu evaluation.” Another excuse. Though this wasn't exactly a lie.

“Ooh, how's Lagos?” she said. “It's your first time visiting since you were a kid. Has the city changed much?”

“Come on. I can't remember what it looked like then.”

“Tall buildings. Heavy traffic. Always so crowded. Can't walk anywhere without running into the whole country!”

I laughed. “Well, it's about the same? I'm sure I'll get by. How's Nenye?”

Mom’s pitch fell. “I think she's having one of her . . . better days today? When I got back, she asked about you. I told her about your job, and she's been sitting in the living room since. She didn’t ask many questions. But I-I think she understood what we discussed.”

My eyes moistened. “That's great, mom.”

“It is! I'm cooking up a storm in celebration. Stuff your face over there and think of us.”

“Will do.”

A moment of silence followed.

“Mom?” I said.

“Chachi.”

“Yeah?”

“T-those people . . .” she started, “do you think they were being truthful? About being able to help Nenye? Now, that you’ve settled in with them, what’s your impression?”

I visualized the underground base with the Habakkuk III sitting in the workshop. Visualized the top floors with the CAH suits milling about. Kabash's near-death ordeal also came to mind. “I . . .” I wet my lips. “I think they were telling the truth. If anyone can help her, it's them.”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

“Yeah.”

“I-is it a bad thing to keep hoping? That one day she might be fine?”

“It isn't. I do so every day. No one says we have to accept the situation.”

“My big man.” I could almost hear the smile in her voice. “Get some rest. We can talk whenever.”

“Alright, mom. You too.”

Someone rapped on my door. I opened it to find Neviecha—no, Alewo—back in regular clothes.

“Kabash's calling,” Alewo said. “Wants us to gather in the living room.”

“Did we do something wrong?”

“Beats me.” He narrowed his eyes.

“What is it?”

“You aren’t going to remove the mask?”

“. . . I was just about to.”

“Right,” he said, turning away. “Everyone else is waiting. Don’t dally too long.”

I washed my face at the sink and crossed the walkway to the other end of the base.

Obong occupied a lone chair, thumbing through her phone. Toye sat in another, flipping through channels on the TV. Kabash and Alewo talked over something on the couch. And splayed out on a table in front of them . . .

“I brought suya,” Kabash announced as I entered. “Suya and drinks.”

The strips of barbecued beef lured the eyes, laid out on platters covered by old newspapers. The sizzling aroma hit my nostrils before Kabash finished speaking. The drinks, however . . .

“Hey,” Toye said, sporting a frown. “The only drinks here are bottled water.”

“Of course,” Kabash said. “Alchohol’s banned on the base. Besides, none of you are old enough to drink.”

“You told me: old enough to fight, old enough to drive.”

“What has that got to do with anything?”

Toye stiffened. “Wait a minute. Did you ask me to drive because you didn't want to do it yourself?”

“Eat up!” Kabash said. “Dinner's getting cold.”

“Hey, you—”

“Eat. Up.”

We dug in with gusto. A few minutes later, AV announced Catherine’s descent via the elevator.

“AV doesn't catch any breaks, does he?” I asked Alewo.

“Nah. That's the automated defense system,” he said, licking his fingers. “He programmed it himself.”

Catherine entered the living room, still in her suit from that morning. She had a file in one hand, a storm substituting for makeup on her face.

“I see you are having a party,” she said, heavy on her pronunciations. She raised an eyebrow at Kabash. “—despite your failure. The news I bring might be unpleasant, but Pro-now wanted it accelerated, for some reason.”

Ava Dominic slid out from behind Catherine. She hadn't changed out of her clothes, and the heavy collar beeped ominously on her neck. However, the handcuffs were gone. “Ooh. So, this is your crib,” she said, looking around. “I am so going to love it here.” An eye roll accompanied her words.

Catherine looked like she was contemplating murder. “Pacesetters, say hello to your new teammate.”

Ava threw a double peace sign. “Name's Ava, but you already know that. In costume, I’d be going by Bazaar. I know I curb-stomped you guys a few hours ago, but let's put that behind us, kay? I'd be in your care.”