The sound of gunfire erupted from atop the stairwell.

“Dammit!” Nora cried out. She started to run up the steps, but the rising stress brought on a torrent of visions that stopped her in her tracks. Running would not get her there in time to help. She needed to do something more extreme.

“Dammit,” she repeated. Unfortunately she had no choice. Nora blinked.

There was a split in the hallway at the top of the stairs. Pressure was caught in a two-way firefight to fend off attackers from both passages. With weapons blaring from two directions, it was taking all her concentration to hold them both back with her shield. Unable to focus on one without exposing herself to the other, she could not push forward or retreat.

Nora appeared down the right-hand passage behind two of the attackers, a man and woman distinguishable only by a pony tail hanging out from beneath the woman’s baseball cap.

Stepping up to the pony tail, Nora put her hands on the woman’s shoulders and dropped them down, doing an Aikido art that sent the woman toppling backwards. As she fell, she peppered her partner with bullets. Puffs of material sprouted from the man’s bulletproof vest. Eyes wide with surprise, he dropped to the floor.

The woman dropped her rifle in a feeble attempt to stop her fall. Nora kicked it away, then stood just above her as she struggled to get up. Every time the woman got her hands beneath her, Nora pushed on her forehead, driving her roughly back to the ground. There was no way the woman could get up and bat away Nora’s hand at the same time. It was a game of cat and mouse, and Nora happily played the cat.

Nora could think of several martial art moves that could be done from the floor, but the woman knew none of them. She was like a turtle turned upside down on its shell. “Stop,” Nora warned, wagging a finger, “or the next thing I do is kick you in the head. I don’t think you’ll like that.”

The woman gave up. She lay on the floor with her above her head, palms up, in submission.

The break in gunfire from one side gave Pressure the opening she needed. Focusing her power, she brushed the remaining gunmen down the other hall.

As Pressure mopped up her end, Nora turned to her own. “Give me your hand,” Nora ordered her captive. The woman tentatively reached out to her. Nora grabbed her wrist and twisted, using an Aikido technique that made the woman yelp as she flipped over onto her stomach to avoid discomfort. With her arm outstretched behind her, Nora applied a little pressure toward her shoulder to pin her opponent in place.

“Give me your other hand,” Nora ordered. When the woman hesitated, she turned the wrist a bit more. Another whimper and the woman reached back, desperate to stop the feeling of her arm being dislocated. With both hands now available to her, Nora withdrew a zip tie from her pocket and bound the woman’s arms snuggly together.

“These ties are useful. Everyone should carry them,” she told her captive. Nora shifted so she could see the woman’s face. “Your boss in the security office?”

The woman glared at Nora, squeezing her mouth shut.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“All done?” Pressure asked from the other hallway.

“Just about.”

Nora bound the woman’s ankles together as well, then went over to her fallen companion. He was alive but unconscious. His vest had softened the impacts of the bullets, but there was still damage. Blood was seeping through his clothing into ugly crimson stains. He needed a doctor. Nora bound his hands and feet as well, wishing she could do more.

“He better live, bitch,” the bound woman barked at Nora, baring her teeth like an angry animal.

Instead of arguing, Nora returned to the woman, removed one of her shoes to get at her sock and used it as a gag. The woman glared at her as Nora shoved it into her mouth.

“Trust me, it’s better than a knock to the head.”

Nora’s stomach started to roil uncomfortably. She held her belly, trying to calm it.

“You ok?” Pressure asked, coming to check on her.

“Just a bit winded from catching up with you,” Nora stated cautiously, glancing over at her still attentive prisoner. Now was not the time to reveal her condition or abilities in front of the enemy. “Might not want to get so far ahead of me again. But we’re almost there.” She pointed down the hallway.

Pressure nodded, cheeks blushing. “Sorry about that.” She then turned to the hallway, moving slowly to give Nora time to catch up. Nora suppressed a chuckle. It was not everyday she could chastise a superhero and get away with it.

They both did their best to keep quiet, but after that firefight there was little chance of catching anyone by surprise. Still, the hallway here was carpeted, helping to muffled their steps, and there was the occasional potted Ficus to hide behind.

The doors to either side were labeled for easy identification. They passed Finance, Human Resources, Operations, Leasing, and Marketing. Each door was closed, the gaps between door and floor black in the dim lighting.

Nora’s stomach continued to rumble and the taste of bile kept rising in her throat. The wavy tan pattern of the carpeting didn’t help, confusing her eyes and leaving her nauseous. She tried to redirect the sensation to her visions, but nothing was forthcoming beyond an uncomfortable feeling that something wasn’t right. The lights continued to dance about her, giving nothing.

Feeling paranoid, she stopping briefly to try the door to Operations. It was locked. Pressure looked at her questioningly.

“Just curious,” Nora whispered, shrugging away a feeling of vulnerability. She couldn’t help but feel exposed with all those doors around them. Since there was nothing she could do about it, she redirected their attention down the hallway. “The one we want is up ahead. Two doors down on the left.”

As they approached, they could see the door was open, the glow of monitors spilling out into the hallway. Nora also noticed something she did not remember from her last visit to that office. There were brown, paper wrapped blocks attached to the walls on either side of the door. What they were for she did not know.

“I knew you’d come,” said Dermout through the open doorway. In person his voice sounded deeper and more confident than it did through the mall’s sound system. “There was no way you were going to leave without trying to get me first.” Nora could see the red light of a video camera on the ceiling just past the door, gleaming like the eye of a spider waiting for its prey to fall into its web.

“Why don’t you say hello to your girlfriend, Sandra.”

“Nora, are you there?” The sound had the faint, tinny tone of a mobile phone’s speaker, but the voice was unmistakable. Nora would recognize her girlfriend’s British accent anywhere.

“Sandra?” Nora called out. Pressure frowned back at her, but Nora didn’t care.

Stepping past Pressure, Nora approached the door, brushing away Pressure’s attempt to stop her. Just before the door, however, she came face to face with one of the blocks attached to the wall. It was a rectangle six inches long and two inches square, held to the wall with duct tape. It had wires coming out of each end that twisted together before disappearing into the open doorway of the security room. Stamped on the paper wrapper the distinct logo of the United States military.

That stopped Nora in her tracks. “Honey,” she called out nervously, head uncomfortably close to the block. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of fresh road pavement emanating from it. “I’m afraid I can’t talk right now. Please hang up the phone. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

“Hear that, Sandra? She can’t talk. But I’m sure you’ll hear all about it. One way or the other.” Dermout’s voice leaked sarcasm.

Nora was at a loss for words. The cruelty cut deep, undermining her confidence. The churning of her stomach grew with her stress, ready to erupt. The wisps of light buzzed and swirled around her like swarms of bees.

Through the shimmering lights she noticed armed men coming out of offices doors, one from each end of the hall, pinning herself and Pressure between them. They held their rifles at the ready, but did not fire. Regardless, Pressure’s shield came up to protect them both. It conformed to the space like a soap bubble, blocking the path in both directions. Nora was disturbed to realize, however, that it left the block of what she assumed was an explosive inside the shield.

“That won’t do at all, Pressure.” Dermout sounded distant through the shield. “I’ve studied how your powers work. That’s C4 explosive on the wall beside you. Try moving and my men will fire and pin you there. Then all I have to do is set off the C4 and I cook you both alive. Or you could drop it,” he offered. “My men won’t shoot, and we can have a conversation.”

“What do you see?” the superhero whispered, deferring to Nora and her power.

The lights were zipping quickly around her, making it easy to bring her visions into focus. She weighed her options and watched the results flicker by like a garbled TV broadcast. Looking for ways to win, she could see no option that didn’t leave them incapacitated or dead.

“There’s no getting through this,” Nora replied, feeling lost. “We lose no matter what we do.” Then Nora had a moment of déjà vu. “Unless,“ she mumbled to herself, “you have to lose to win.”

“What was that?” Pressure asked in confusion.

Nora remembered speaking those words after her seizure in the clothing shop’s back office. The answer came to her like an echo, her seizure having given a taste of a distant future that was quickly becoming her present. When considering her options, she always looked for the best choices – the winning choices. She never considered the outcome of losing. Every time she saw something she didn’t like she changed her choices before seeing the full result. She never had the courage to see her failures play out.

Yet this time, she needed to see more. Drawing on the rumbling of her gut to fuel her power, she forced herself to explore the full outcome of every option, no matter how bad they might first appear.

She found a way through. “Drop it,” she told Pressure confidently.

“You sure?”

“Do you trust me?” Nora asked.

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It was hard to read Pressure’s expression behind the glasses, but Nora imagined the gears turning away as the hero weighed her choices. They did not know each other very well. But Nora had spent an afternoon pulling Pressure’s butt out of the fire. She needed the hero to believe in her for a just one more minute.

Pressure nodded after her brief hesitation. “Yes, I trust you.”

“Then, drop the shield. And no matter what happens, it’s going to be ok.”

With a nod of acknowledgement, Pressure’s shield fell away. The two men kept their weapons up, but did nothing to take advantage of the opportunity just as Dermout had promised.

Nora indicated the doorway, motioning for Pressure to take the lead. “You need to go first.”

Pressure frowned, but with a deep breath stepped into the doorway. Nora followed closely behind.

The moment Nora stepped in, there was click and a sensation like something punching her in the gut. She had been ready for this, but it still stung. Even so, she kept enough presence of mind to brush the dart from her stomach before the full contents of the syringe entered her system.

Pressure had no such warning. As the full dose took effect, she looked at Nora, eyes wide with accusations, before swaying on her feet and falling to the ground. Nora imagined the feeling of betrayal she must have felt before collapsing.

The room started to spin for Nora as well. She reached out to the doorframe to hold herself upright. Her thoughts turned distant and hard to grasp, but instead of panicking, she took a deep breath to calm herself and accept what was happening.

When she started her Aikido training, she had practiced rolling by throwing herself at the floor over and over, going both backward and forward over her arm and back. While good exercise in itself, learning to roll meant that her partners did not need to fear for her safety when performing throws. She had been incredibly dizzy at first, spinning through the air over and over, but with time she had learned to go with the sensation rather than fight it. After a time, she could rise back to her feet without being disoriented. As her instructor once told her, “The room can spin, but you don’t have to spin with it.” With time she found those moments almost enjoyable. An hour-long class would become a hundred rides on a roller coaster rather than a long, excruciating trip through a haunted house.

This was no different. She allowed the numbing sensation of whatever was in the dart to wash over her. As Afterimage had mentioned during his recovery, it was an odd but not unpleasant sensation. There was not enough of the drug in her system to send her into unconsciousness, at least not right away, but it was enough to sweep away her stress and the symptoms of her epilepsy. The roiling in the stomach was gone, as were the lights and sounds that accompanied her seizures. It left behind the sensation of floating on a cloud, the world a muffled echo of itself.

She held onto the doorframe, but it was no longer for support. While her mind felt muddy, the colors and lights trying to swim around her, it took only a small amount of effort to retain her focus. Now she held it for show, feigning weakness.

“Interesting,” said the man before her, the dart gun still pointing at her. It looked like a stubby rifle with an air cartridge similar to a paint gun. “So what’s your power? Speed? Fast reflexes?”

“I don’t have powers,” she stated defiantly, trying not to be distracted by the numbness of her tongue. A part of her wanted to tell him otherwise, the drug in her system trying to eat away at her inhibitions, but she worked to keep her eye on the moment, and in that moment, she told the truth. She was as powerless as a lamb.

“I remember how you disarmed me out there. No way you did that without powers. And I found this in your backpack.” He held the gun with one hand as he picked up a medication bottle from the security console behind him. “For the treatment of epilepsy,” he read from the label. “All you powered people are the same. Broken.”

He threw the bottle onto the console behind him. It landing near her phone with a rattle. Nora caught sight of her backpack on one of the chairs, the zipper open and contents in disarray.

The lighting in the room was unsteady, many of the screens on the wall flickering from image to image, scrolling through every security camera in the building. Several came up black, presumably those destroyed by Pressure. One was trained on the hallway outside, where she could see his two minions moving in cautiously to support their boss.

Another monitor held steady on a video feed from outside the mall. Police cars littered the parking lot where armed officers hid behind vehicles looking up toward the roofline of the mall.

“Why haven’t you fallen down yet?” he asked curiously. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. You all seem fueled by whatever ails you, and this stuff takes all the pain away. Even with a partial dose, you’re done. So tell me, where’s Afterimage? He must be in the mall somewhere.”

“Somewhere,” Nora repeated absently. She shook her head, realizing she was losing her train of thought. A good part of her just wanted to lay down and sleep. This was taking longer than anticipated, nearing the time limits of her vision. “So how many shots are in that thing?”

Then she remembered, and felt silly for asking. Without another thought she dropped her hands to the carpeted floor and pushed off like it was a game of leap frog, lunging toward her captor.

He was startled by the move, especially when she came up on her feet right beside him. Applying a joint lock on his wrist with one hand she loosened his grip on the dart gun. Then she took it away with her other.

“But…” he started, trying to punch at her, but found it nearly impossible to hit her over the arm she now held. With her other hand she hit him on the head with the butt of his gun. As he fell on his face, she swung around and aimed the gun at the door where his men, having heard the commotion, were coming through to help him.

“Two,” she said, hitting first one, then the other with a dart. Both men swayed on their feet before falling to the floor beside Pressure.

Nora started laughing, the entire situation feeling hilarious to her. “Powers didn’t teach me martial arts, you stupid asshole.” She kicked her would be captor in the side. His grunt made her giggle.

“Bitch, I’m going to…” He tried to do a push up to get himself back to his feet, but Nora pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger. She jumped when it went off and put a dart firmly into his buttocks.

“Son of a…” he mumbled before collapsing on the floor.

“Oh, I guess that makes three.” She aimed at him again and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. “And now we’re done.”

She studied the gun for a moment, as if it held some deep, universal secret. “A five shot tranquilizer gun. Never heard of that before. Cool.” Then she put it on the console to attend to other, more important things.

Nora was well outside the timeframe of her vision. She had no idea what was going to happen next, and had no way to see anything more with the drugs in her system. She reminded herself that there were police outside likely dealing with a sniper on the roof with still more of Dermout’s men inside the mall. It was time to get out before she ran into any more trouble. Gathering up her medicine and phone, she pushed everything back into her backpack, zipped it up, and slung it over her shoulders.

Then she turned to the pile of drugged people in the doorway and cleared Pressure from the heap. Plucking the empty dart from her friend’s chest, Nora cradled the small superhero in her arms and stood up.

Pressure felt like a warm feather in her embrace. Nora caught the faint smell of strawberry from her hair. It made her smile. “I like your shampoo.”

Then she caught herself. “Hmmm… that’s not right. Be serious and get a hold of yourself.” Nora took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. “We have to go. Let us be away, fair damsel.”

Nora backtracked their path through the hallways. Light as Pressure was, Nora often stumbled under the strain of carrying her. Nora was in pretty good shape from her martial art training, but was feeling lightheaded and groggy. It took mental and physical effort to remain upright.

After awhile Nora realized she was lost. Except for those near the security office, she encountered none of the mercenaries she and Pressure had subdued along the way. She tried a few doors, hoping to get back into the mall proper, but all were locked. She eventually stopped and sat down against a wall. Nora held Pressure’s head in her lap and stroked the hero’s hair, admiring the glinting highlights from the emergency lighting.

“Will you forgive me, Audrey?” she asked her sleeping charge. “It was this or seeing you blown up or captured. God what a moron that guy was, thinking that just because we’re sick, we’re helpless. I can see why, though. I didn’t want to do the hero thing because I couldn’t imagine doing what you do and having epilepsy. And here you are, doing it all with arthritis. God you’re amazing.”

A brightening of the hallway caught Nora’s attention. Looking down the passageway, she could see an intense glare coming toward her like the headlight of a train through a tunnel.

“Oh crap,” she said, realizing she no longer had the strength to get herself and Pressure out of the way. She closed her eyes and prepared for the end.

The light became so bright she could see it through her eyelids, but at the last moment it went away. Daring to take a peek, she found Afterimage standing over her, skin shimmering like water in the glow of dawn.

He pointed to Pressure.

“Oh, hey there. She’s ok. At least I think she is. She got shot with a dart. I did too, actually. But we got away! The big baddy is up in the security office with a dart in his ass, and we tied up a few of his henchmen along the way. But they disappeared. There must be more around. You might check the roof. And god I’m babbling. My power’s gone. I have no idea what’s going to happen next. You have no idea how weird that is for me. Or maybe you do? You got shot too, but you got better!”

Afterimage smiled. He leaned over to take Pressure from Nora’s arms. He held the small hero gently, caressing her hair much as Nora had. Then he looked to Nora and mouthed something. No sound came out, but the glow about him flickered like torchlight. She had no idea what he was trying to say. Before she could ask his light flared into a golden sun and whisked away into the darkness of the hall, leaving her alone.

“Damn, I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” She took a deep breath, but the wooziness continued. She lay down on the concrete floor and fell asleep.

Nora awoke on her own couch, head on Sandra’s lap. Her girlfriend was caressing her face gently, humming a soothing Indian lullaby Nora had once heard in a Bollywood film.

“Hey, there you are. How are you feeling?” Sandra whispered.

“Hey,” Nora replied, confused. “I’m ok.” She actually felt like a rung-out rag, her head aching and lights dancing around the room like a disco party. It felt like a bad combination of a hangover and a seizure rolled into one, less than tasty, package. She wasn’t willing to say anything, though, until she knew what was going on. “How did I get here?”

“I found you on the doorstep,” she said. “The doorbell rang and when I went out, there you were. I managed to carry you to the couch.”

“Oh,” said Nora. She could guess what happened. “Afterimage must have brought me home.”

“You mean the superhero?”

“One and the same.” Nora was hesitant to say too much, but knew Sandra would need an explanation. “He was at the mall. I saw him before I passed out.”

“Thank god he was there to help. And that explains the plant.” Sandra pointed over to the orchid and iridescent vase on the nearby kitchen counter. The white of the flower was a bright contrast to the dark wood of the cabinetry. News of Afterimage’s gifts had become common knowledge. “I’m glad he rescued you. I was really worried when that man picked up my call on your phone.”

“Yeah, so was I.”

“Oh, Afterimage also left your backpack. And a note.” Sandra got up to retrieve the small envelope from the counter. Nora took the opportunity to sit up, not wanting to appear the invalid in front of her girlfriend.

Opening it up, Nora read the scrap of paper inside. It said “Sorry I couldn’t help more. Thank you. – A”

Nora stared at the note, a rush of conflicting feelings flowing through her. This wasn’t the usual note the hero left for people, putting them under his protection. This was a thank you note for keeping Pressure safe.

Sandra sat beside her, self-consciously brushing back a lock of her chin length hair behind one ear as she waited for Nora to read the note. Nora noted how her golden skin glowed in the glimmer of sunlight trickling in through the window blinds. Sandra had once talked about taking her to India to introduce Nora to her family, even knowing how they would feel about their relationship. Nora would have loved that. Now she wasn’t sure what was going to happen. She felt terribly guilty, both for putting Sandra through so much stress and for crushing on Pressure like a puppy dog.

“I’m sorry,” Nora whispered.

“For what?” Sandra looked sheepish, for some reason looking guilty as well.

“I lost my job. That phone call. The mall. I’m nothing but trouble.”

“Oh, no no no…” said Sandra, the tension visibly dropping from her shoulders. She took Nora’s head in both hands and kissed her. “You were dealt a bad hand. Not your fault. And that job was awful. You’re here, safe. That’s all that matters. Maybe if I’d been there at the test, taken you to work myself, today would have been different. I’ve been so caught up with work. I keep thinking I’m doing it for the both of us, but I never considered what it was doing to you. I’m never there for you anymore. I’m so sorry.”

The lights were swirling and ears were buzzing again. As the drugs left her system, her illness was coming back in full force. Nora ignored them. She had no interest in seeing whatever future they wanted to show her. She needed to be present, in the here and now.

Nora kissed Sandra back and gave her a long hug. “I love you. You’re fine. We’re both fine. But there is something I have to tell you. I haven’t been totally honest with you. It’s time I came clean.”

So Nora told her story. She left out Pressure and Afterimage’s identities, but detailed everything else that had happened in the mall, including her powers.

Of course Sandra did not believe her at first. After a few parlor tricks, however, Nora was able to convince her. Predicting how many fingers were behind Sandra’s back for the hundredth time, Sandra looked at her in awe.

“Damn. You’re a superhero.”

Nora flushed in embarrassment. She had trouble thinking of herself that way. But with those words, a great weight rose from her shoulders. She had been lying about who she was for too long. She was more than her disability. In fact, it was time to admit she was a better person for it. It was time accept her whole self, warts and all.