Walking home, or rather gliding since she used her powers to boost her every step, Audrey considered her options. She should be thankful to be alive. Mr. Cancer had told her she was too strong to kill but it was clear that she was only alive because he allowed it. While under his power he could have easily done away with her with his bare hands. Whether he left her alive because he enjoyed gloating or was too squeamish to get his own hands dirty, it didn’t matter. He had all the power, and she didn’t. He had been right. She was no threat to him.
Where did that leave her? Audrey knew she couldn’t let it go. Having him out there unchallenged would eat at her. He had been killing disabled people all across the city. She couldn’t sit by and do nothing. These powers had given her a second lease on life. She had no intention of wasting it.
Yet even Afterimage avoided Mr. Cancer. What could she do? Thinking of her nemesis, she was reminded that a former friend had once tried to console her by telling her “at least it’s not cancer.” Audrey had been so enraged by the thoughtless comment she had driven the person away with her screams of anger. “At least with cancer there’s an end,” Audrey had yelled. “Months of chemo and it works or it doesn’t. It kills you or it doesn’t. For me it’ll be decades of slow, agonizing torture until my heart can’t take any more.” Newly diagnosed, she’d been reading too many stories from other patients, all of them depressing. Now she understood that she had more in common with cancer patients than she had cared to admit. Like her, their bodies were attacking themselves, causing pain and suffering. If Mr. Cancer’s power conveyed to his victims even a portion of the torment he felt, she could understand why he would do anything to make it go away.
“Being in pain makes people do desperate things,” she told herself out loud.
Then she realized the answer to her problem. Pain was something she understood intimately, and that was something she could use.
It took everything in her not to take off and fly to her house. Once home, she called her friend Mary. She would need some help.
Both Peter and Mary showed up at her house the next day. Audrey hadn’t realized that her brother had been released from the hospital.
It was early afternoon, the sun barely past its zenith. She had slept in, having a hard time getting up that morning. She was starting to feel a pattern from using her powers. Her pain was rebounding the day after using them, particularly in the mornings. She was hurting but couldn’t help giving her brother a hug before he could say anything. Her touch was tempered by her limited mobility and pain, which was for the best. He winced in discomfort.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you be in the hospital recovering?”
“They just released me,” he said roughly. His unwashed hair was matted from days in bed, his hospital wristband still dangling loosely on his arm.
“The doctor says he’s doing great,” Mary piped in. “They removed the chest tube last night.” She put a bulky cloth grocery bag on Audrey kitchen counter. “He insisted on coming with me since I was coming over anyway. Who am I to stop him from seeing his hero sister?”
“I am not a hero.” Audrey said it flatly, feeling more like an invalid than anything. Even walking to answer the door had been a chore.
“I hear that you and Afterimage took down an international criminal. The news only mentioned Afterimage, but Mary told me the rest. I hear he’s wanted in the EU for murder. And you made the news last night. I think that qualifies you. You’re Portland’s newest hero.”
“I made the news?” When she had gotten home she hadn’t bothered watching TV. She had too many other things to think about.
“Yeah,” said Mary. “A reporter was following the police last night. Apparently they’re hot to catch any lead on that guy you confronted and were nearby when they saw you take off. You didn’t tell me you could fly.”
Audrey felt embarrassed. “Yeah, I guess I can.” Badly, she thought to herself, but there was no denying it.
“Mary told me what you needed,” said Peter. He paused as his wife guided him over to Audrey’s couch. He flinched when she settled him onto the cushions. “I think you need to do what the reporters are doing. Follow the police.”
“That means hearing what they hear. I did a little shopping this morning at a military surplus store.” Going back to the bag on the counter, Mary dug out a handheld radio scanner. it looked a bit like a walkie-talkie on steroids. “The store owner told me you could pick up police frequencies on this. It has a wire and earpiece so you don’t have to have it in your hands all the time. It should tell you when the bad guy makes his next appearance.”
Audrey smiled in appreciation. “Guys, that’s fantastic. Thank you.”
“And,” Mary added, going back to the bag, “if you’re going to be a hero, I think you need to look like one. So I got you this last night and did a few alterations. I hope it fits.”
Mary held the item up for Audrey’s examination. It looked like a colorful motorcycle jacket. Instead of leather it was made from some kind of blue and gray cloth with white piping along the seams, the lines shaped around armored plating on the chest, back and joints.
“It’s a girl’s motocross suit,” Mary explained. “I got the whole set, matching pants, gloves, and boots. The armor plates are some kind of resin composite, not metal, and the cloth is Kevlar, I think. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being out there without protection, but I know you can’t carry much weight. I don’t know how good it’ll be against a knife or gun, but better than nothing, and I removed all the logos so you won’t look like a walking billboard for the manufacturer.”
“Wow,” said Audrey. “You guys seem awfully ok with me going into danger.”
Peter looked down at his hands in shame. “I didn’t want to at first, but Mary reminded me that I’m the one who got shot, not you. You’ve been attacked twice and you’re fine. You’re not the one we should be worrying about. Besides, this is the first time in a while I’ve seen you looking forward to going out in the world. I’ve hated seeing you stuck at home feeling like life left you behind. It’s not fair. I don’t want to see you hurt but keeping you from using this gift would make me a terrible person. I won’t do that to you.”
Audrey teared up. Finding no words, she nodded in understanding.
“But we do want to keep you safe. So I also got you this.” Mary brought out some wrap around sport goggles with a mirrored, iridescent lens. “If you want anything like a life, you need to keep your identity secret. I figured you wouldn’t want a motorcycle helmet, so this should do. And it has a strap that should keep your hair out of the way. For when you fly, of course.”
The tears started falling across her cheeks. “It’s awesome. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You got to get that guy,” Peter said. Speaking elicited a cough which caused a spasm of pain to flash across his face. “For both of us,” he growled out when he recovered.
She got up and hobbled to Mary, giving her a feeble hug. For Peter she put a swollen hand on his shoulder. “I’ll do my best. I promise.” It has been a long time since Audrey felt seen. Since her diagnosis she had felt like a burden and afterthought. Now she had the power to change lives and thanks to her family she had the tools to use it.
So the vigil began. She spent her days perched at the top of a multistory apartment building near the river, listening to police calls on her scanner’s earpiece. She used her powers to get there, providing much needed flying practice. At first, they were a series of controlled hops, but within a few days she managed to do it in a single flight. Of course, she suffered for it every morning, but she used the added pain to fuel her next attempt, helping to increase her power’s strength and endurance.
Her hours matched the business hours of most banks, with Audrey settling in around nine in the morning and leaving around five in the afternoon. For Audrey it was a glimpse into what it was like to have a normal life. Her alarm would go off in the morning, where she would use a small burst of power to help her get out of bed and take the edge of pain away. She would eat breakfast, pack a lunch, get dressed in her new suit, and head out the back door to peek over her fence to make sure her neighbors weren’t watching. Then she would launch herself into the air heading west toward the river. It was like having a job. It was both ordinary and strange. She had gotten so used to a life with a disability that having anything approaching a day like a regular person felt bizarre and out of place.
Sitting on the roof, the suit kept her warm in the coolness of the fall air. Even so, sweat would drip down the collar of her suit, and with the earpiece cord strung behind her ear and down her neck, the chafing was sending her into fits of scratching. Yet, though the suit was painful to put on and straps difficult to manage, it made her feel enormously powerful. Naked in her bathroom, Audrey saw only bony limbs and swollen joints. With the suit on, she looked muscular and curvaceous, the impact resistant padding adding to her figure in all the right places. Despite feeling like an imposter, playing at being a comic book hero with six pack abs and bulging arms, it was so intoxicating that she was able to forget her doubts for a time.
Gazing out over the river, she could see the glow of Afterimage floating in his place between two of the most prominent city bridges. She couldn’t help but wonder what Afterimage looked like beneath the glare. Was he more like a hero from the movies, or was he like her, the glow functioning like a suit so he could hide his true self? They were close enough now that she considered asking. If she shouted, would he hear her? If he did, would he answer? Would he let her see him beneath the glare?
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
She shook away the stray thought. It was her fourth day and she was bored out of her mind. There were a variety of calls over the radio, most for petty thefts, but every time she considered answering one she would see Afterimage streak away in response. He had them covered. That left her to focus on the one task she had set for herself. Until that call came in, however, she felt useless and silly.
“Code 132 in progress at 1100 Northeast Weidler,” came a call. “Possible powered suspect on premises. Proceed with caution.” Audrey happened to know that was the address for the main branch of a local bank. Looking out at the river, she expected to see Afterimage streak away in response, but for the first time in days he remained in place.
She took it as a sign. Groaning, she rose from her position on the hard asphalt roof. She had to take a minute to work out the stiffness of her joints from sitting too long.
“I can do this,” she told herself aloud, trying to push down her fear. “It’s just a little pain. Stick to the plan and it’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.” She took a deep breath. Then she released the pressure in her body and with a burst of power lifted into the air.
Her destination wasn’t far. Being more of a giant leap than flight, she soared over several building in an arc to come down in front of the bank. It was a two-story building on the northeast corner of an intersection, low and squat compared to the others around it, allowing the sun to shine on the street amid shadows cast by nearby high rises. She beat the police by mere moments, a black and white car with lights flashing arriving just as she touched down before the entrance steps.
She was given no time to speak with them. One of the entrance doors swung open and Mr. Cancer strolled out. He was wearing the same leather jacket and slacks as he had before, but now carried a briefcase in one hand, likely filled with his ill-gotten goods. He was whistling casually as he came out, a cheery tune at odds with the wave of despair and emptiness that preceded him with every step.
“Oh, it’s you. You’ve upgraded your outfit.” He said it off hand like they were old acquaintances running into each other at the supermarket. “Looks good on you.”
Audrey, on the other hand, was feeling the full weight of his power. The emptiness invading her opened in her mind like a whirlpool, threatening to pull her in. Her legs wobbled with weakness at his approach, and she stumbled to one knee with the weight of despair.
“Why are you here? Do you actually believe you can do something, or are you just stupid?” He looked up at the police car nearby, gauging the situation. Neither officer had left their car, probably caught in the same wave of debilitating hopelessness that she was, but Audrey could hear more sirens in the distance heading their way. “Or maybe you thought you could delay me. Brave of you. But I’m not waiting around for a police sniper to get in position. It was great seeing you. Let’s visit again soon.” He turned to leave.
Now was the time she had planned for. Focusing on the desolation subjugating her thoughts, she chose not to fight it. She allowed the sensation to permeate her, opening herself up to it like arid ground to rain. She embraced the feeling, examining it with curiosity rather than fear, and searched for the pain beneath it all. It did not take long to find. She recognized the familiar discomfort beneath the misery, could feel the cancer worming its way under her skin like a parasite trying to feast on her body and mind.
She had lived for years with arthritis. The disease had painted a self-portrait onto her flesh, and every time she looked in a mirror she discovered something new. She understood nuances of pain, degrees of fatigue, and levels of exhaustion so intimately they were carved into her bones. Studying her opponent’s pain, she recognized it all. She could feel his suffering and touch it like it was a part of herself. She could sense every twinge and sting as if it was her own, enabling her to connect and make it a part of herself.
It was like a conduit opening between them. His pain flooded into her as if fleeing the wreckage of his body. It threatened to sweep her away, but she faced it as stubbornly as she had her own pain, and, with every ounce of will she could muster, she redirected it into her power.
As the pressure around her built, the effects of Mr. Cancer’s power faded. She could still feel it burrowing beneath her skin, but it no longer drowned her mind in sorrow. Her muscles were her own again. But the pressure was quickly becoming unbearable, looking for release.
As Mr. Cancer came near, Audrey dug in her toes and tensed her muscles in preparation. He didn’t even bother to look down at her as he passed, so it came as a surprise when she sprang up and wrapping her arms tightly around him. He had no time to react as she launched them both into the air.
Coming to his senses, Mr. Cancer struggled against her. “Put me down!” he screamed, throwing away his briefcase to claw at her hands for release.
“I wouldn’t do that if I was you!” she yelled through rushing wind. “Look down!”
In moments they were over a hundred feet in the air and climbing, jetting up above the bank and surrounding buildings. She could see streams of cars below snaking their way through surrounding streets like blood through arteries. One glance down and he stopped struggling, instead gripping her arms tightly to keep from falling.
“I don’t know how you managed this, but you’ve made your point. Well done.” He tried to sound casual, but she could hear the rising panic in his voice. “You’ve got me. Put me down and I’ll pay you. Anything you want is yours.” Hard to do without your briefcase, she thought to herself, but didn’t say so aloud. It didn’t matter. He had nothing to offer her.
“No, I don’t think so.” She sounded confident, even to herself. They were now three hundred feet up and climbing. Physically, she was not strong. With her arthritis, she often missed meals and regular exercise was out of the question. She needed high-calorie nutritional drinks just to keep up her weight. With the combined power of them both, however, she was able to keep them both aloft and had no intention of coming down anytime soon.
“What do you want? You want me to stop hunting powered people? Sure, I’ll stop. No more. I promise!”
“Nice of you to offer, but no.” She kept on going. Five hundred feet. Cars below became indistinguishable, the streets below pulsing like writhing snakes. Despite the speed, the air felt peaceful and calm.
“What do you want?”
“I want you in jail.”
“You know the police can’t hold me. I don’t know how you overcame my power, but they never can.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Then what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m taking away your cancer.”
“That’s impossible,” he said defiantly.
“I don’t think you’ve noticed, but your power is fading. I can feel it. And that means your cancer is too.”
He went still in her grasp, the weight of her words taking the fight out of him. “How?” he asked, his voice a whisper in the wind.
“I may not have had my power long, but I’ve been sick for years and know what that means better than anyone. Better than you. I feel your pain, and pain fuels my power. I’m going to use your pain until there’s nothing left.” His pain was a mere trickle now. She was using every drop of it to fly. “And you told me yourself. Your tumor gets smaller as you use your power. Shall we see what happens when you have nothing left? Maybe I’ve cured you.”
“You can’t do this,” he said in a last burst of defiance. “It’ll only come back worse than before. You’re killing me.”
“Then you’re screwed. But that’s not my problem.” Audrey guessed they were over a thousand feet in the air. She was starting to have trouble maintaining her grip. They were higher than the highest buildings in the city, the view making her head spin with vertigo.
She slowed her ascent until they hovered in midair. A bird flew by, squawking at the unwanted company. Maintaining that position was actually more difficult than rising, forcing her to grasp for his pain all the more to help keep them aloft. He was nearly tapped out, but she was determined to continue drawing from him until he had been drained entirely.
He was quiet and still in her arms. Audrey said nothing either, content to wait and enjoy the view. Moments later she could feel his ability slip away to nothing. Perhaps he had figured out how to withdraw it, but it didn’t matter. He would be helpless until the next morning. Plenty of time to put him in a cell from which even his power could not help him escape.
“I’m heading down now, but if you fight me I’ll drop you.”
He said nothing, which she took as acceptance of his fate. She began their slow and steady descent toward the street in front of the bank and the handful of black and white police cars now waiting for them.
Audrey was nearly drained herself when she finally came down for a landing. She dumped her load a few feet from the ground, making him stumble to the asphalt. She landed gracefully beside him.
“Stay down and don’t move,” she ordered. He glared daggers at her but stayed put.
The moment she stepped back the police descended on Mr. Cancer like a flock of seagulls on a loaf of bread.
She smiled in satisfaction. Her smile dropped, however, when she looked up and realized she was in the middle of a crowd. Beyond the police was a circle of civilians with cell phones out, cameras all pointed at her.
Audrey felt stupid for not thinking this part through. Self-conscious, her hands went to hide her face, only to feel the reassuring presence of her mirrored goggles. She took a deep breath. With all eyes on her, she brought her hands down to her sides and tried to look as confident and authoritative as she could.
“Are you a new hero?” asked someone from the crowd.
Ignoring the question, Audrey turned to a couple officers nearby who had stayed out of the fray. “I’ve disabled his ability,” she told them. “But make sure he stays behind bars until at least tomorrow. You’ll know by then if it comes back.”
“Who are you?” one of them asked.
“Yeah, what do we call you?” an excited teenager shouted from the circle of onlookers, her phone out to capture everything she saw.
Audrey thought about not answering, caring little for what people called her, but thought better of it. She remembered her conversation with her brother about Afterimage and his name. The hero had not been given a choice over his name. She didn’t want someone else to choose for her. Having once believed her disease had taken away her choices, it seemed appropriate to take them back.
“Call me Pressure.”
Reaching inside herself, she grasped at the remains of pain in her joints and body. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Building a bubble of pressure around herself, she gently pushed outward to let people feel her power. In response the crowd took a step back from the tension in the air. Then she released, and like an arrow leaving the bow she arced up over the building and out of sight.
It took nearly everything Audrey had to return to the apartment building where she had been waiting earlier that day. She was exhausted but felt great. Relieved of her pain, she bent over to retrieve the backpack she left behind an air-conditioning unit, put away her glasses, and exchanged her jacket with a dull grey hoodie. Then she slung the pack over her shoulders in readiness to depart.
She stopped short at the sight of Afterimage hovering just over the river side of the building. He hung in midair, no feeling of wind or force to warn her of his presence.
“I got him,” she told him matter of factly.
Afterimage bobbed up and down a few times. It was a small movement, but she understood its meaning. It was as close as he could get to a nod.
“I gotta go. Perhaps I’ll see you around.” It was difficult for Audrey, who had so many questions that she was ready to burst, but it would need to wait for another day. She didn’t want to lose all her control and embarrass herself in front of the radiant hero. So she turned her back on him and headed for a nearby stairwell door. Once inside the building she allowed herself to smile. In the morning she would suffer when her arthritis rebounded, but for the moment the pain was gone. Feeling powerful and heroic, she enjoyed the long walk home.