It was just past midday. The famously oppressive Texas heat took no mercy on the city of El Puerto. Not a cloud dotted the sky, and nary blew the breeze. By all accounts, even with the sun, it was a beautiful day. If ever there were a need for a good omen, this was it.
Ayda sat dressed up as Pulse on a chair atop the steps of city hall. The rectangular landing had been turned into a makeshift stage, complete with speakers and a podium with several microphones. A quartet of white columns made from fake marble rose behind her in support of a peaked entryway. Letters upon it spelled out something in Latin. The building behind reached a total of three stories, made of some alabaster material she couldn't identify. In the center from the roof stretched a spire with a giant clock on it which, comically, displayed the wrong time. The structure, while grand, was also a bit of an eyesore.
There were other people on stage with her, as well. The VIPs had been separated into a pair of groups on either end. She sat on the left closest to the podium with people in suits and dresses, only one of which she recognized as a state senator. The woman right beside Ayda was likely his wife.
On the right of the stage was a more prevalent group. They consisted of the El Puerto Mayor, his family, and the Governor of Texas himself. The town brought out the big guns for this one. No expenses spared, no corners cut. It made Ayda's heart beat just a little faster.
Set back a bit from the road, the city hall courtyard normally was reserved for parking. Now, people filled its every inch. It looked much like a rock concert with how little space there was to move around. The front few rows were dedicated entirely to news crews. Reporters with microphones and notepads stood before cameramen uniformed with the logo of whatever station they represented. There were the big, New York publications, as well as a slew of state papers. Ayda even noticed one from England. This truly was a global phenomenon. Even with all of the powerful people on stage with her, it felt as though all eyes rested on her.
Ayda looked at her watch. Instead of offering a momentary distraction, it only spiked her heart rate even further. One minute. It was one minute until showtime, and the people in the audience probably had no idea thanks to the giant, incorrect clock before them. Maybe that was the point? If the clock were wrong, then it looked like the government was always early. Ayda shook her head. Mustn't lose focus now.
Without warning, the Governor stood from his seat. A string of curses played in Ayda's head. He was early! She always hated this sort of thing in school, and all of the people and cameras amplified the feeling by ten thousand. The necessity of it all mattered little. She was still nervous. The Governor stepped up to the podium, and Ayda took a deep breath to center herself. It didn’t work. Not until he began to speak, did the tension slowly drain from her body.
“Good afternoon,” he began simply. His deep, aged voice reverberated through the attendees, yet it was surprisingly quiet from up on stage. “I'd first like to thank you all for coming out to join with us on such short notice. The subject matter of this press conference is of dire importance to both citizen and reporter alike. To witness this day in person, and not through a screen, is to truly stand in the presence of history itself.” A flowery start, but not bad. The man knew how to speak.
“As I'm sure you are all well aware, a little over two weeks ago our city was gripped in the claws of crises. A man calling himself Tahoe, a foreigner to these lands, attempted something the likes of which this country has seldom seen. He attempted to seize power for himself through chaos, and fire, and crime. It was, for all intents and purposes, a foreign invasion. Fitting, then, for this to happen in Texas, a place which has weathered such recklessness before.
“This Tahoe was not a good man. For decades he ruled the industrial district of this fine city with an iron fist. He operated from behind the scenes, extorting our citizens with drugs and violence, all for personal gain. He believed himself better than us. He believed his kind was superior, not through pedigree nor social standing, but because of who he was. Tahoe was not a normal man. He possessed abilities the likes of which we all just a few days ago would've deemed impossible. But, I've seen the footage. I've spoken with the witnesses. While I was not there myself, I assure you these abilities were very real.
“Such terrible feats may seem shocking to most of us, but not to the city of El Puerto. If anything, they're yesterday's news. By now, many of you are likely well-informed of the situation here. You've read the reports, you've heard the eyewitness accounts, you've seen the pictures. You saw the school shooting which happened just months ago. Truly, a terrible day.
“I won't lie to you. In that time, the crime rate in this city has plummeted. Inversely, the number of drug-related arrests skyrocketed. The presence of the Chinese Triad gang has diminished to the point where it is but a shadow of its former self. These are all facts. More importantly, they are numbers rarely seen in El Puerto. We are in an unprecedented time of relative peace and prosperity.
“It may be easy to point to the local authorities for these numbers, but that is not the case. The police did not curtail the Triad. Our upstanding men and women are not responsible for taking methamphetamines off our streets. When chaos engulfed our streets they did their best to keep everyone safe, but they did not stop Tahoe. These distinctions and many, many more, fall upon the shoulders of one woman. While her presence had long been but rumor, on the day she stopped a vile man from destroying our children, she revealed herself as an unalienable truth. She even gave us a name. Pulse.”
The Governor gestured toward Ayda, who did her best to give a winning smile. There was applause, which she didn't expect. It was a light smattering, but with such a large crowd it still drowned out everything. Ayda sat a little straighter in her chair, and tried not to seem awkward. Should she wave, or was it better to just sit there? They already knew where she was. Drawing more attention to herself just seemed pointless. So, she sat there and basked in the praise. A few seconds later, the Governor resumed his little speech, louder at first to be heard over the crowd.
“While many have objected to her methods, and she most certainly operated outside of the law, her positive effect on the city is immeasurable. She recognized a threat and took action in a way the rest of us were both unable and unwilling to. When the time came, Pulse showed zero hesitation in putting her own life on the line in defense of her fellow man. It is not inaccurate to say we may not have fared nearly as well without her assistance.
“On a different, yet no less imperative note, Pulse taught us of a light in the darkness. In a time of such utter confusion, she showed us that abilities like hers are not to be feared. Everything Pulse has done since she entered into our lives has been for the benefit of not just El Puerto, but all of America. She uses her great power for good, to protect those who cannot do so themselves, and to make sure our children may sleep soundly at night. Pulse is a force for change, for peace. Some have called her a monster, a vigilante and a criminal, but I think we can all see how blatantly erroneous those assessments are. Let us now, in the presence of God, call her by who she really is. Pulse is a hero.
“In light of her recent accomplishments, and for all the things she's done for us, the El Puerto Police Department has agreed to work more closely with her. The details of this arrangement are still in the works, but we've decided it's better if Pulse operates legally going forward. Additionally, and in the same spirit, it is my honor to offer Pulse a full Presidential pardon for any misdeeds committed prior to this point in time. It won't do for a defender of the people to be a wanted woman.”
Though Ayda knew about all of this, hearing it out loud in official format still made the breath catch in her throat. Her heartbeat accelerated once again, both at the mention of her freedom, and in preparation for what came next.
“But, you've probably grown tired of hearing me prattle on. So, I'd like to open the floor to Pulse, so the woman of the hour may address her public.”
There was more applause as the Governor stepped down from the podium, and Ayda stood from her seat. She hesitated for a moment, looking out upon the crowd. There sure were a lot of them, far more than she'd ever spoken in front of before. With a deep breath in, Ayda strode forward. Her path crossed briefly with the Governor's. He stopped just long enough to clap her on the shoulder, a firm hit not unlike what a father would give to his son. Ayda said nothing as he continued on, right back to his chair. After quick glance back at him, Ayda took his former place. She stepped up to the microphones, standing tall behind the pressboard pulpit as a hundred cameras all took her picture. She'd never been more thankful for choosing sunglasses as a measure of disguise, lest the flashes blind her.
“Thank you, Governor,” Ayda began. “Firstly, before we get to more pressing matters, I accept the pardon. I agree on the point of clearing my rap sheet if I’m to help the police in any official capacity. I promise this generosity won’t go to waste. I plan to do everything in my power, with my power, to help keep the people of this city safe.”
Her voice reverberated through the courtyard in a way which was jarring at best, and intimidating at worst. She’d never heard herself so loud. Ayda hoped the people gathered there could understand her accent well enough. Distantly, she wondered if rebroadcasts of this would have subtitles.
“I won’t insult you all and say I know how alarming this all is. The reality is, I don’t. You see, these powers of mine have been with me almost my whole life. I barely remember a time before I had them. To me, this is normal.” Ayda held her palm up and created a small blast above it. “But, I understand for most of you it’s borderline horrific. The thought that people who can do such impossible things lived right under your noses, I can’t even begin to imagine how that feels.
“So, I won’t offer you comfort, because I know I can’t give it. Instead, I’ll give something I can offer: honesty. I can speak openly, face to face, without holding anything back.
“I’ve read the same stories you have. I’ve seen the news reports. I can tell you most of them are true, even the bad ones. I attacked three gang members, and killed one. I tortured an old man. I beat a man senseless before convincing him to turn himself in. Why, you ask? Because the Triad hurt someone very close to me, someone I—” Her breath caught. “Someone I loved more than anyone else in the world. I acted out of vengeance and hatred, in defiance of a system I didn’t think was doing enough.
“But, in fighting this man, I realized something. I realized he’s just a victim, a symptom of a larger disease. He was a little boy once, an innocent child. This city turned him into a criminal. The Triad did. And, that’s when I decided to fight a bigger war, to tackle crime as a whole, to treat the cause of the disease that grips El Puerto. I may hate the Triad, but I also have to thank them. I probably wouldn’t have found a better path without them. It’s fucked up, but it’s true.” Ayda realized far too late she probably shouldn’t swear. Her cheeks heated up, and she thanked fate for the color of her skin to hide the blush.
“I won’t say what I did was right. I won’t defend my actions. You’ve probably all made up your minds, as far as that goes. Besides, it’s all in the past. I’m ready to move forward, to better both myself, and this place I call home.
“In the interest of that, and also of honesty, I’d like to open the floor to the members of the press who decided to grace us with their presence. There’s a microphone in front of you. If you’d please line up in an orderly fashion, I’ll answer any questions you may have.”
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To Ayda’s amazement, her caution about lining up without chaos actually worked. The people were probably too terrified to risk defying her. She frowned at that. The last thing she wanted was for her relationship with these people to start with fear. But, if it helped move things along, she could deal with if for at least a few minutes.
The line hadn’t even completely formed before a pretty, young blonde woman stepped up to the microphone.
“Hey,” Ayda greeted.
“Hi,” returned the woman. “Alyssa Houston, El Puerto Press. I was wondering about the man who helped you the other night. Did you know him beforehand? Will you be working with him in the future?”
“Ah, yes,” acknowledged Ayda. “I didn’t know him before, but we’ve been in contact. I pretty much forced him to give me his phone number.” Ayda gave that joke just enough time to fail. “Whether or not we end up working together is still very much up in the air, but he’s asked the media refer to him as Flechette in the meantime.”
“Thank you.” The woman departed, writing something down.
“Of course,” acknowledged Ayda. A black man took Alyssa’s place. “Hi.”
“Hello. Um, Tucker Carlson, Texas Daily Journal—”
“Alright,” Ayda interrupted, “can we cut it with the introductions? We have a lot of people to get through, and I really don’t care what paper you’re from.”
“Sorry, um,” the reporter flipped through his notes, “Is there any connection between you and the string of drug-related arrests in El Puerto over the past few months?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s already been answered,” Ayda said. “I won’t take credit for all of them, but I think a lot were thanks to me. Oh, and before anyone asks, the exploded meth lab was also me.” She noticed three people step out of line.
Tucker left the microphone, only to be replaced by a balding, Caucasian man. Ayda just gave him a nod in acknowledgment.
“Do you know the status of the Triad,” he asked. “Is it gone?”
“No, I don’t know what’s happening with the Triad. But, I assure you they’re not gone. An organization like that is too big for the loss of one leader to collapse it. They’re probably figuring out who will take Tahoe’s place as we speak. I don’t know what that’ll mean for the city, but I promise to be there for whatever happens.”
An older, brunette woman replaced the man at the microphone.
“Are there any more like Tahoe out there?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I suspect a lot of information will come out in the following weeks and months. Until then, I don’t know enough to say one way or the other. However, I think it’s safest to assume there are both people like him out there, and also people like me.”
Another woman took up the hot seat, this one young but rather rotund.
“Are you glad Tahoe is dead? Are you proud you’re the one who killed him?”
“That’s a difficult question to answer.” Ayda sighed. “I am glad he’s gone. He was a menace. Whether or not I’m proud of doing it… that’s harder to say. I take no joy in killing. I never have, and I actively try to avoid it. But, I also realize there are times where lethal force is necessary. I think the riot was one of those times. Police officers make the same calls every day. I’m not glad I killed him, but it’s a decision I can live with.”
A young, hipster-looking gentleman stepped up to the mic.
“Do you work alone?”
Ayda sighed. “This is the one question I wasn't sure how I would answer, but I promised you honesty. No, I don't work alone. We aren't comfortable saying anything more than that.”
“That's perfectly understandable, thank you.” The hipster ducked out of the way, and the line advanced to another man.
“Are you proud of your accomplishments thus far, and would you do anything differently?”
“Yes, I am proud of what I’ve done. The falling crime rates and number of drug arrests are facts, and I’m proud of them. Would I do anything differently? No, I wouldn’t. I know my methods weren't the greatest, but I did what had to be done, because no one else wanted to. If I had to do it all again, I’d do it in exactly the same way.”
The line moved once again. This time, an Asian woman inquired.
“Besides working with the local authorities, what are your plans moving forward?”
“That is my plan moving forward,” Ayda asserted. “Look, I don’t know what’s gonna happen tomorrow. No one does. I can sit here and plan for every feasible outcome, but that’s a waste of time. I plan to take things a day at a time, respond to threats as they emerge and make sure the innocent people involved are safe. There’s nothing else I can really do.”
Another African-American man assumed the position.
“You mentioned you lost someone at the very start of your career. Do you think they're proud of you?”
“I hope so,” Ayda looked up at the sky, “I really do.”
She lost track of how long the questioning went on. It felt like several hours. There must’ve been a hundred to go through. At one point, they all blended together. Every single answer drained a little bit more from her reserves. It wasn’t much, but they piled up after a while.
Regardless, Ayda remained strong. These people all had legitimate concerns, and as their protector it was her job to address them. So, no matter how tired she became, Ayda would answer every single one of them. She’ no idea how much time passed by the time that happened, but when she departed the dais, the sun hung low in the sky.
…
Ayda sat in a café, a table set for two. She balanced on the back legs of her chair, one foot on the wood floors while the other pressed against the side of the round table. A little bit too early for dinner, it was relatively empty, though a few other people occupied the space. One couple chatted quietly, an inane conversation she couldn’t hear. A man in a suit typed away on a tiny laptop. The others further away she didn’t really care about. They weren’t close enough to cause a potential problem.
She dressed in civilian clothes, a solid purple t-shirt with blue jeans and white sneakers, totally different from what she’d addressed the public in. Her sunglasses were the only thing on the table, within arm’s reach should she need them. She’d told the waitress it’d be a few minutes before she decided on anything to order, but that was just a lie to get her out of the way. Ayda wasn’t in the mood for eating.
She’d arrived early, but that was about ten minutes ago. The person she was supposed to meet clearly had no concern for punctuality. Annoying, but not a deal breaker. Not yet, anyway. It could be a potential conversation for a later date, but not today. No, today there were bigger problems, better hopes. She dug out her phone to check the time. Twelve minutes.
As the clock ticked over to thirteen, Ayda noticed the front door swing open. A bell notified staff of a new presence. At the sight of him, Ayda let her chair set all four legs on the ground. She watched the new arrival intently. He looked different dressed in a white wife beater instead of a hoodie, but that dark hair and perpetual scowl could only be one person. Ayda rolled her eyes at his lateness, yet smirked at the sight of him.
He looked around the café for a moment. His pale blue eyes met hers. They stared at each other for just a heartbeat before he made his way over. Ayda stood to greet him. The man stopped beside what would be his chair. Tension stretched between them, the sort generated by two people who didn’t really know each other.
“Hey,” Frank said, saving Ayda the burden of breaking the ice.
“Hey.”
“We using first names, finally,” he asked.
“I'm not in costume, so it'd be kinda dangerous not to.”
“Right.” He held out his hand. “Frank.”
“Ayda.” They shook hands. “Do you mind if we get straight to business?” Ayda gestured for them to sit, a request she filled herself. Frank was a moment behind, taking the only other seat at the small table, directly across from her. “I don't wanna seem rude, or anything, but I'm kinda tired.”
“Yeah, press conferences will do that do ya,” Frank joked.
“You saw that?”
“I think the entire damn world saw that,” he clarified. “It was on every channel, and I think half the internet livestreamed it.”
“That's good. That's...” Ayda hesitated. “That's good. Word needs to get out. Tahoe was wrong about a lot of things, but he had the right idea there, at least.”
“I'll admit I didn't watch all of it,” Frank said. “It seemed like a lot of questions.”
“It was, but I answered them honestly. The people are nervous. Their entire world view just got flipped upside-down. The least I can do is tell them the truth.”
“You told them what they needed to hear,” countered Frank.
“Which was the truth.” Ayda sighed. “I didn’t come to argue, Frank. I came to talk.”
“You came to recruit me.” Again, he corrected her.
“Yes,” nodded Ayda. “Yes, that's why I'm here.”
“Then give me your pitch. No bullshit, no sugar coating. Why should I work with you?”
Ayda took a moment to collect her thoughts. “When I first started out, I thought I could be a one woman army, but as time has gone on, I've realized that's not possible. I can't do this alone. I need allies. I spoke to my companion, and we both agreed we need you on board.”
“That's right,” Frank mused. “You said you don't work alone.”
“No. I have someone behind the scenes, an intel guy.”
“Is he listening right now?”
Ayda turned her head. “He's not.” She tapped the spot where the bluetooh headset would be, except it wasn't there this time. “Take it as a symbol of trust. Like I said, we talked it over, and we think you're perfect.”
“Come on,” insisted Frank. “The only reason I'm perfect, is because there's no one else around to help you.”
“Not right now, no. But people will come out of the woodwork. They'll see what happened and think they have nothing to hide anymore since everyone knows they exist, and they’d be right. Most will probably just go about their lives, some will follow in my footsteps, but some will take Tahoe's example.”
“Yeah, I agree,” nodded Frank. “It's gonna be a shitshow, that's for sure.”
“That's putting it lightly,” Ayda snarked. “Anyway, I believe, with all the publicity we've been getting, many of them will descend on El Puerto. Maybe they'll want to fill Tahoe's role, maybe they'll see the city as weak after the riot, or maybe they'll just want a chance to fight me. Either way, they're coming, and as awesome as I am, I can't take them all. Not alone. That's why I need you.”
“And for some reason you think I'm perfect,” challenged Frank.
“You are perfect,” Ayda declared, “not because you're the best fighter in the world, or the most powerful whatever we are, but because. You. Stepped. Up.” Ayda accentuated each of these last words with a knock on the table. “You could've waited for shit to settle just like everyone else, but you didn't. You found Tahoe, and you fought him. You saved my life twice. That's not something everyone can do, not even people like us.”
There was a pause. Frank didn't meet her eyes, but instead stared down at the table.
“I guess I can't really argue with that,” Frank finally said.
“Do you mind if I ask why?” Ayda shifted gears. “Why did you help me?”
Frank sighed. “Honestly, I never really cared about any of it, all the crime and the drugs. It sucked, but it didn't affect me. But the riot, that was too far. You see, I'm a Marine, or at least I was until some fucking CIA black op got their hands on me.”
“You were made here?” Ayda asked, incredulous.
“Right here in Texas, the middle of nowhere.”
“Were you conscripted, or kidnapped?” There were probably other things to talk about, but Ayda hadn't expected anything about Frank's background. To say she was curious would be an understatement.
“I volunteered, went straight from First Recon to their super-soldier project. They never used those words, of course, just called it special training.” Frank rolled his eyes. “They also said I was perfect.”
“Frank, I—”
“But it's all in the past. Besides, I'm the only one. They discontinued the project, after me. Said it wasn't worth the resources, or something. They didn’t even do exactly what they wanted with me. I’m just their little failure.”
“I'm sorry that happened,” Ayda finished her earlier point, “but why are you telling me all of this?”
“So you know where I'm coming from,” Frank said. “Even as a failed super-soldier, I still saw combat. I'm a Marine. I spent fifteen years stopping bad men from hurting good people. When Tahoe's goons started doing all the same shit I'd seen before, I couldn't just stand back and let them do it. That's why I fought.”
“But you're still apprehensive about joining me,” observed Ayda. It may have also been a bit of a challenge.
“I'm not apprehensive, just cautious. I've been used to fight other people's battles before, and that didn’t exactly turn out so great. You'll forgive me if I'm not exactly eager to do it again.”
“What?” Ayda sat up straight, then leaned forward over the table. “Frank, I'm not trying to use you. You wouldn't be my subordinate, you'd be my partner. We'd be equal, completely. No ranks, no structure, no leadership, none of it. We would be one-hundred-percent even. I promise you that.”
“That’s more or less exactly what I wanted to hear.” Frank smirked. Ayda almost asked him about it, but he resumed before she had the chance. “I've heard a lot about you. You seem like an upstanding sort, but that's just what the media says. I agreed to stay in touch with you to get a sense of who you really are, to get a real first impression.”
“And?” Ayda pressed.
“And I like the cut of your jib. You're brash, blunt, dedicated, and just a bit violent. You remind me a lot of myself at sixteen.”
“Seventeen.”
“Whatever,” Frank waved her off. “I hadn't really made up my mind before I came here, but now that we've had a few chances to talk, I think I'm sure.”
“Is that a good thing?” Ayda asked, unable to keep the hope from her voice.
“I dunno.” Frank shrugged. “Probably.”
“Partners?” Ayda extended an open hand across the table, a gentle smile on her face.
“Yeah.” Frank shook Ayda's hand. “Partners.”
They released, and in doing so immortalized their pact.
Ayda looked out the window. While the sun slowly crawled across the reddened sky, she felt as though it set upon a chapter of her life. However, with each setting sun comes the promise of a rise, and with it would begin a new adventure. With Elliot and Frank by her side, and now the police department at her back, she finally felt ready to fully embrace her role as Pulse. She was Ayda: The Explosive Girl.
END OF BOOK 1