Stepping away from Collins, Pressure launched herself into the air and headed east over the river. Visiting Nora and her partner was a tricky business, but she needed to see how her friend was doing.
Pressure had neither the speed of Afterimage nor the ability to hide her presence, and the news had made a habit of tracking her movements. With Nora living in an apartment building, it made it difficult to avoid being seen by people. Luck, on the other hand, was with them. Nora’s apartment was on the first floor, backed by an alley edged with a tall hedge of rhododendron. There was nothing back there but trash cans and skulking raccoons. Not the best view for a living space, but it made for cheap rent and a small measure of privacy.
Circling the area several times to be sure there were no observers, she then dodged between buildings before settling into the alley. The back door opened for her as she approached, allowing her to quickly disappear inside.
Afterimage closed the door behind her. “Thanks,” she said as she removed her goggles. He had toned down his glow, making his skin look golden and bright. It was the shimmer she associated with the leading ladies of old movies, the focus softening whenever the camera was on them. Seeing him this way always made her smile.
“How’s she doing?” she asked, getting back to the business that brought her there. He shrugged before leading her to the back bedroom where Sandra was sitting on the bed beside Nora. She gently stroking her lover’s forehead, her own crinkled with lines of worry.
Every time Audrey saw Sandra she felt a pang of envy. Sandra was East Indian, her smooth, dark skin reflecting the light, straight black hair tumbling over delicate cheekbones before falling like waterfalls over her shoulders. She must have just gotten home from work, not having the time to remove her business suit and cream blouse before attending to Nora.
Audrey felt coarse and unkempt by comparison. Her mouse brown hair was swept back in waves like she had just walked out of a strong wind, and her hands and feet were gnarled and swollen. Her uniform hid a frame which was little better than skin and bones. Nothing at all like this refined and delicate woman.
“Hello,” said Sandra on seeing her, a brief hint of her British accent welcoming her in.
“She doing ok?” Audrey asked again in a whisper, dropping all pretense of her hero persona. Sandra was one of their family and already knew their secrets.
Nora lay over the covers, body laid out like a corpse for viewing. She still wore her uniform, minus the hood, freeing her curly hair to cascade over the pillow. It gave Audrey chills to see her so still. Only the quivering of Nora’s mouth showed any signs of life.
“She’s still out of it. She usually wakes up after a few minutes, feeling knackered and all, but this is longer than usual. Is she’s going to be alright?”
Audrey looked to Tom, hoping his powers could detect something she could not. With his powers toned down his senses were limited, but they were still better than the average human. He leaned over the bed opposite Sandra and put a hand over Nora’s chest. Without his glow Audrey was able to see the blue of his eyes. They were unfocused and distant, staring at nothing. Yet he moved his head as if scrutinizing Nora with a magnifying glass. His skin flickered like twinkling starlight.
After a moment he looked up and gestured with his hands, making a writing motion.
Audrey had to translate. “Sandra, do you have something to write on?”
“Of course. Here.” She took a pad and pen from the nightstand beside her and handed them to Tom.
He scribbled on it before handing the pad to Audrey.
She read it and then bit her lip.
“What? What did he say?” asked Sandra.
“He says she’s not just moving her lips. She talking. She’s saying ‘Benjamin Tucker may have the answer’ over and over.”
“Is that a doctor?” Sandra asked. “Is she asking for help?”
“No. He’s a scientist.” The name brought back memories of Audrey’s first night trying to be a hero and failing miserably. “He works for IDEN Labs doing genetic testing for hospitals. He was passing lab results to George Mathers who used the information to find and kill people who might have powers.”
“He worked for that man on the news? The one who escaped?” asked Sandra, growing agitation in her voice.
“Yeah, that guy.” Audrey still felt anger over his escape, but pushed it aside. “But I wouldn’t worry. I don’t think she’s talking about Mathers.”
“Then can this Tucker fellow help her?”
Audrey folded the paper and slipped it into a pocket of her uniform. “He might know things that would help with the seizures. I’ve been thinking of seeing him, but hadn’t had a chance to talk to her about it yet. It means Nora’s powers are working. She’s seeing a future where we talk about meeting him. That’s a good sign.” She tried to sound reassuring, but wasn’t sure if she succeeded.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know if Nora ever told you, but using our powers help us heal. For Tom and I, it means our injuries heal very quickly. For Nora, it can help with her seizures. If her powers are working, it means they’re also working to heal her.”
“Prolonged epileptic seizures can cause permanent brain damage.” Sandra sounded lost and forlorn as she explained. She tenderly stroked Nora’s forehead, looking at her lover like she was trying to memorize the contours of her face. Audrey wondered how hard it must be, knowing you might lose the person you love at any time.
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“Can she heal from that?” Sandra finished, looking up at Audrey.
“Probably,” said Audrey. “Tom and I have walked away from things that would send a normal person to the hospital. And from my experience, Nora can only see futures where she’s present. It’s a future where we’re talking to her about Benjamin Tucker. We can’t have that conversation if she doesn’t wake up.”
“Alright,” she said, trusting Audrey to tell her the truth. Audrey hoped that trust was not misplaced. Nora may be ok this time, but what about the next time? “So how can this Benjamin Tucker help?”
“The information Tucker passed to Mathers could be used to identify people with powers,”Audrey explained. “Maybe that information could be used to help us as well. I’ve been thinking that we need to know more about our conditions and powers. So Nora’s right. Benjamin Tucker may have the answer. And Nora will be there to help us.”
Audrey considered her options. “I don’t think there’s much Tom and I can do at the moment. I think she just needs time. But it’s not our call. If you want to take her to a hospital, I understand.”
Sandra looked down at Nora. “I know what she would say if she could. She would want us to wait. So I’ll wait.”
Audrey was relieved by the decision. “Then we’ll head out. Let us know when she wakes up. But if she gets worse, don’t hesitate to call for an ambulance. Her health is more important than our secret.”
Tom nodded in agreement. Sandra’s shoulders relaxed as if a great burden had been taken from her. “Ok. Thank you.”
Audrey gave her a quick hug, wishing she could do more to ease her fears. “It’ll be ok. I promise.” Audrey said it as much to comfort herself as Sandra. She just hoped she was right.
Tom and Audrey let themselves out the back door. Audrey looked around to see if anyone was about, feeling a little foolish but doing it anyway out of habit. Even without his powers at full force, Tom would have known if someone was out there before they had opened the door.
She looked at him curiously. “What about the rest?”
Tom shrugged.
Taking the scrap of paper out of her pocket, she read aloud what she had omitted previously. “He’s coming.”
Tom shrugged again.
“Dammit,” Audrey said in frustration. Nora’s ability gave her amazing predictive powers, but not everything she saw came true. She had once explained that knowing the future changed it. That knowledge altered what they did from that point forward. Even a moment of hesitation could change an outcome. But without Nora there, there was no way to know what it all meant. Would seeing Benjamin Tucker make things worse or better? Who was coming, and when?
“I hate flying blind,” Audrey muttered. She turned to Tom. “I’m not up for patrolling today. You can if you want to, but I’m heading home. I’ll see you there.”
He looked worried, but he nodded. Skin blaring with light, he took off, first following the alley and then bursting quickly upward as it neared the street to rise into the sky.
Audrey slipped her goggles back over her eyes then launched as well, slipping like a swallow between a maze of nearby office buildings before rising into the open air and westward, flying briefly over the Willamette River before heading over the hills between Portland and Beaverton, the next town over.
To her ears the river wind and distant cars sounded like the ebb and flow of ocean waves on a beach. Needing a respite from her worries, she embraced the calming murmur. With her powers keeping the pain of arthritis at bay, she could pretend, if only for a moment, that she was on that imagined beach with only the sun and water to keep her company.
When she gained her powers, she had wanted to use them because they had given meaning to her arthritis and made her feel useful. Having played at being hero for over a year, though, it was no longer enough. The moments of respite provided an addictive taste of normality. She was able to come home every evening to someone she cared for and spend time with family and friends doing regular human things. Even going for a walk was no longer an onerous, excruciating experience. Now those moments were growing shorter. She wanted more time to experience them. But that was becoming increasingly difficult. She needed to work harder just to stay in place.
That made her think about Armstrong. She should have gone to find him herself, but she had no desire to fight the man again, nor convince him to join her hero troupe. He was a potential ally, but she could no longer wish her life on anyone else. To her knowledge, this made at least five powered people in Portland. Based on people Afterimage knew of through his senses, there were likely a few more that she did not know, hiding their powers from people like herself or hiding from themselves. Like Blink’s initial reluctance, Pressure understood. With every power came a disability or difference that kept that person separate from society. Having abilities could take away their physical anguish, but could not give them a feeling of belonging. It was just another wall separating them from the world. If not for Pressure’s powered friends, it could have been the same for her, feeling alone and forgotten.
Beyond those in Portland, news reports suggested only a handful of others around the United States, with even fewer in other countries. All told, there may have been fewer powered people on the planet than she had fingers and toes. Most were in Portland. Why? What made this city the center of supernatural abilities? What made her, Afterimage, and Blink among the two handfuls of people willing and able to take on the burden of being heroes?
Afterimage caught up to her as she prepared to land. He streaked in on a trail of light, touching ground moments before she did. They were near his house in the West Hills of Portland, landing on what she had come to think of as the landing pad. It was a patch of bare ground surrounded by a copse of trees hidden from prying eyes.
“No patrolling?” she asked once she had settled her weight on the ground.
Afterimage dropped his glow entirely, fully revealing his face and body. His clothing clung tightly to his skin, letting her see the shape of his muscles beneath. She couldn’t help but look him up and down. She sometimes wondered how she got so lucky, being able to hold him at night with his skin beside her own.
“No,” he said simply. Even though the symptoms of his Sensory Processing Disorder were relieved by his powers, he still had trouble expressing himself. He was a champaign bottle under pressure. Even when the pressure was off, he still held back, afraid he would burst. She often had to work at him to get him to show or say what was going on his head. When he did, though, she loved the sweet taste of his personality, his words like bubbles tingling her nose.
“Can I hug you?” she asked gently. She had learned never to surprise him. Be upfront and direct, he once told her about their interactions. He had trouble reading between the lines. While sometimes frustrating, it was more often a refreshing change from her other daily interactions. She always knew where she stood with him.
He smiled. “Of course.”
She wrapped her arms about him and held him close. With her own symptoms diminished, she could hold him tight without her joints protesting.
When his powers were on, she could feel his emotions by how her body responded to him. It often left a dizzying sensation where it was difficult to know where his feelings ended and hers began. With his powers off, as they were now, she knew her craving for his touch was hers alone.
“She’ll be ok,” he said in her ear. “We’ll be ok.”
Instead of saying anything, she looked up in his eyes and held his gaze. The ocean blue of his eyes sparkled in the light filtering down through the trees. She pulled his head down and kissed him. While his words reassured her, she needed to feel it as well, the warmth of his lips driving away her fears.
Without another word, she took his hand and pulled him toward the house. Their house. They had been living together for nearly a year now. He had become her partner, not just in fighting crime, but in life. At that moment she needed to feel that life instead of the threatening darkness all around them.