“If you want to know that bad I’ll tell you.” Neil grunts, barely containing his irritation.

I’ve been pestering him all through the long tiresome walk to our destination, a location I know I’m not very familiar with. The route we’re taking doesn’t lead to any of the gangs’ prominent bases of operations.

“Steve wants metas. Any type of meta apparently.” He spits.

It’s an open secret within the organization that Neil adores Steve and T.V for the powers they have, outside of those two he’s just plain envious of any other metas he comes across.

Even me, despite my powers being absolute shit.

“Why would he want me? He knows my powers don’t last any more than I demonstrated last time.”

The rugged man shrugs, not wanting to talk about the matter anymore than I’ve annoyed out of him, “I’m not sure, could be he wants to see another demonstration.” He looks back at me with suspicion clear in his eyes, “Maybe he thinks you’ve been holding out on him.”

I wish.

I scoff at the thought. If I could get my body to handle higher limits of my powers, I’d be far more valuable than T.V, or even Steve himself.

Yeah, that’s right, I’ve had my little power fantasies of what it’d be like if I could get time to stop for even up to a minute. Steve would have no choice but to treat me right, and Neil? Neil wouldn’t even be something that crossed my mind on a daily.

But I’ve got short luck and my powers, or my body only allows me to stop time for about five seconds and at most at an omni-range of two or three feet before forcing me to puke out my guts lest they explode right along with my throbbing brain.

I let out a dejected sigh recalling the last time I tried going past those limits. I didn’t even get to see the results, got landed in Doc Pelican’s bed and got scolded by Paige.

Paige.

Like me she’s got short luck, or perhaps no luck whatsoever. She has no control over her powers so she keeps getting sent forward in time.

According to her, she was born about two-hundred years ago, but out of those approximate two hundred, she’s only lived fifteen.

It scares me every time I realize she’s gone, another jump. Once those happen, I can never tell what time in the future I’ll see her again, that is, if I see her again.

She’s been in my life since I joined the gang to survive in this godforsaken city without picking up a pickaxe.

One day, when I was about nine, she appeared right in the middle of my shanty house – our place now – and kept screaming.

Being only nine I did my best to take care of her that day. The money I got from running errands for the gang then was extortionist but it got her what she needed to get herself together.

Later on, when I finally got her to open up, all she asked was if the war was over.

The last war on Derian soil was about sixty years ago; she jumped sixty years into the future to survive.

She’s just like me, willing to do what it takes, whatever it takes. Even if it’s work for some shit bag like Steve. Aside from that, we bonded over the fact that we couldn’t control our shitty ass time powers and often joked about the odds that two metas who manipulate time would meet and become friends.

“I’m not holding out. I wouldn’t, I need the credits, if I had a better handle on my powers, I’d make sure to be earning more than you, Neil.” Is my rebuttal to his accusation.

The man grits his teeth, likely pushing down the urge to toss a few rounds into me. I smile, relishing that he can’t, Steve wants me unharmed.

Although, I’m not quite sure that’s a thing to be all the way happy about. Steve is a terrible person, can’t be trusted in the least, if he wants metas – no matter how shitty the power – it’s probable the man is out to sell me.

As the thought forms in my head; me on a line with other ‘beautiful boys’ ready to be sold to obese women or to someone even more repulsive than Steve.

Should I fight?

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

No, no, no. That isn’t the question.

Can I fight?

I’ve been taking some bare minimum defence training from Paige and one of the more friendly gang members who knows more than just ‘point and shoot’. But I’ve got no weapons.

It’s not like I’ve been inducted; given the red and green strips that Neil and his lackeys flaunt as the gang colours, and armed with a starter firearm. I may have worked for the guy five years now and may just be a fourteen-year-old kid with no immediate threat level but the man is very skittish about who he lets in.

It also doesn’t help that our work relationship has been pretty hot and cold over the years. Mostly hot on my part with all my complaints about Neil and cold in that he rarely does anything about him.

Can’t be bothered with the hang-on…until now it seems.

The answer to that question would be no. Even if I could stop time for about ten seconds or even up to a minute, I doubt I’ll know how to move things around.

Another major problem with my power is if I stop time, everything stops, no new motion aside from my own is introduced. So I’m skeptical I’d be able to toss Neil and his gang a few bullets from a gun that refuses to fire under the influence of my power.

That’s not to say I haven’t had breakthroughs; I once had a toaster go off even while under my influence. The problem lies in not being able to control what still moves and what doesn’t.

And it’s unfortunately not as simple as touching the object.

But, could these be excuses I’m giving myself? A blunt object to the head would work just as well as a bullet.

No, I’m not hesitating, it’s just that I can’t fit in the parameters for success.

Looking up at the back of Neil’s head, I satisfy my fantasies by bloodying it up with my imagination.

Finally, with my attention drawn back into reality I find we’ve walked quite the distance. Up to the point that some buildings are unfamiliar to me, which is rare.

“Where exactly are we meeting him?” I ask, cautious . Despite knowing I’m needed alive I can’t help feeling anxious in this dead silent environment.

There are bars open but no patrons, there are homeless swaddled up under foil in the alleys and on benches but there aren’t any pedestrians. It feels like the place has been evacuated.

Evacuated?

My head whips to the snow filled sky and I find I’m closer to the smoke plumes that forever line the sky of Xoxia.

“We’re headed to a factory?” I pester, “Why are we heade-”

Neil groans, his fists balled up with barely restrained rage, “We’re not! Damn it kid, we’re headed to that titty-bar over there.” He huffs, his breath visible at these temperatures, “We good now?”

I nod, although still feeling like I’m lacking some information, “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Shitty whining kids.” He mutters to his lackey.

True to his word, a few moments later we find ourselves at the worst positioned gentlemen’s bar in the city. Although, I’d give leeway for the fact that they’re close to the newly built factory in Xoxia.

I’m not sure what they produce, actually, no one is but it’s Xoxia and it likely couldn’t get any worse than it already is for the denizens so no one bothers to find out the exact details.

A muscly bouncer greets us at the door, his eyes following each one of us as we pass by even though he just greeted Neil.

Can’t be too cautious, I guess.

The inside of the bar, much unlike the outside has a healthy amount of clientele. It almost feels as though this bar is where everyone disappeared into.

The smell of food, cigarettes, drugs and the musk of coitus mashing into an odour I haven’t come across. It’s not bad, but it’s not good either.

Needless to say, with the blatant display of human uglies joining and bumping, my young, above average healthy male body is quick to react. Much to my embarrassment.

Get it together me! This isn’t the right time for such shenanigans!

Neil leads us pass all the…fun, greeting and being greeted by many, even a pair who took the time out of their activities to wave a hello all while moaning and bumping.

I try not to pay it too much mind and look forward to the undoubtable fear that will smack out the natural excitement I’m feeling down there once I meet Steve.

I’m lead down the stairs and into the basement of the bar, something I wouldn’t have thought a bar like this needed but I digress. It is owned by a gang.

Landing on the basement floor I’m greeted to a view of several other people gathered down here, I’m guessing the majority of them are metas. The basement is more of an underground floor, there’s ample space to fit four vans so it must be.

A high percentage of the metas are around the middle-aged range; I’m sure the lot of them came willingly.

Middle-aged? Living in Xoxia? Shitty powers? Of course, they’d flood for an opportunity like this, even if they don’t know what opportunity it is.

I look around and only find a few kids my age, probably older with how tall they are, healthier too if the meat on their bones are any indication.

I walk up to one of them, a shorter one while Neil strolls over to Steve to give a report, and introduce myself, “Hey, I’m Vern.”

“Cynthia.” She mutters, chewing gum offensively. I don’t mind, I’ll be out of her hair in a moment.

“Do you have any idea what we’re doing here?”

She rolls her eyes, “Metas, you a meta? You don’t look like one…”

I open my mouth to respond but she keeps talking, “That fat guy over there says he’s gonna pay for some test. We’re going somewhere too.” She jabs her thumb at the vans with benches installed.

I nod and mutter a thanks as Neil begins to approach. “Get in one of the vans.” He orders, a tone of irritation present in his voice. Steve must have given him some scolding for something or the other.

“What’s go-”

“Get. In. The. Van.”

I nod, swallowing whatever protests I may have and fall in line in front of one of the vans. There’s a man at the head of each line, stabbing left arms with some sort of one-shot injection.

It’s my turn after seven people; I’m the last in the line. “What’s in it?”

The man levels me a blank stare and I resign myself to my unknown fate and get pricked in the arm with it.

Maybe it’s a vaccine?

I snort at the thought as I clamber in. A gang giving out vaccines? Please.

The door shuts and the van rumbles to life. If the looks on the men and women I’m sandwiched with are anything to go on, I’m guessing I’m the only recruit from within the gang that knows not to trust them.

They all look excited and that frightens me.