NaNoWriMo Post #4 (back on the laptop!)

Victoria took her hand from the necklace, and the silver fire vanished. "My ability makes beauty from fashion. Anything I can imagine, I can make happen by enchanting clothes, accessories, anything you'd wear." She smiled, an expression so contagious Miranda couldn't help but smile back. "I know you have something special inside you, Miranda, but I don't know what it is. Do you?"
Miranda took a deep breath. "I might be telekinetic," she said. "I deflected a bullet, once. And I tried to fight off those men that attacked me in that parking lot." Something about that memory tugged at her, trying to tell her something important. She shook her head slightly, dismissing it. Her vision seemed to blur slightly as she looked around the gym, so she focused back on Victoria. "It doesn't seem to be very strong."
"Let's try something," Victoria said. "Let's go back into the hallway." She led Miranda out of the gym, and into another room close by. This one was much smaller, though it was still a large room, and was filled with mannequins wearing an incredible variety of clothes, mens', women's, and children's all alike.
"These are all outfits I've created, but not enchanted," Victoria said. "Once I realized that my power lay in clothing, I started displaying everything in this room so that I could find something useful if I needed it. Do you see anything you like?"
Miranda walked through the mannequins, inspecting the various dresses, suits, blouses, pants, and shoes out for perusal. "They're all so beautiful...you must be a well-known designer!" she said. Miranda herself didn't really follow fashion, outside of buying clothes that she looked good in. Victoria laughed.
"Hardly that. I own a clothing store here in Lubbock, I just do some designing on the side," Victoria said, waving a hand gracefully. "HAs anything caught your eye?"
Miranda stood before an elaborate dress. It was blue, made of some very soft fabric that shone in the light. The basic shape of the dress wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it had a white lace ruffle around the hem that had been drawn up almost to the knee, giving it an asymmetric look that evoked the finery of the Victorian age. The sleeves were divided into strips that came together around the middle of the upper arm, and tapered to points, and the neckline was framed in gorgeously complex dark blue embroidery.
"Ah, this is one of my favorites," Victoria said, coming up behind her. "I didn't design anything this intricate, I bought it at a show in Houston. Beautiful work. Would you like to try it on?"
Miranda nodded, staring at the beautiful work of fashion.
"Here, put this on," Victoria said, handing her a simple gold ring. Miranda took it, and looked at Victoria questioningly.
"The ring will make putting the dress on simple," Victoria explained. "One of the first things I did, once I figured out how, was make changing clothes a snap. No more of that fiddle-faddle with putting on every single strap!"
Miranda slid the ring onto her index finger, the only one thick enough to hold it. It shone with a sudden bright light, and suddenly Miranda was surrounded by a whirl of white fabric, blue sparkles, and golden light. Something struck her chest, sending her back a step, but when she'd caught her balance and her eyes had cleared, she was wearing the dress.
It fit perfectly, even though Miranda's healthy figure was nothing like the stick-thin mannequin. She assumed that was more of Victoria's power. She gazed down at herself, awed by how lovely the dress looked on her.
"Now, we shall see," Victoria murmured. Something sounded odd about her voice, and Miranda thought her eyes had looked strange for a moment. Victoria raised her arms, and a great blaze of golden light erupted around her. Miranda took a few steps back, her eyes round and startled.
Her dress exploded into a similar beacon of light, only hers was dark blue and white, to match the dress's colors. The room suddenly plunged into darkness, only her dress's radiance shining.
All around her, gray and black clouds boiled, shot through with occasional lances of lightning. She could smell rain, the scent powerful enough that she should be drenched. But the storm raging around her didn't seem to be real, just a representation of one. There was no sound, no feeling of wind, no rain striking her, just the sight and the scent of a storm in full blast.
Her dress winked out, and the room of mannequins instantly reappeared around her. Victoria was gazing at her, with a strange expression on her face, almost one of greed. As soon as she realized Miranda could see her, the kindly concern reappeared.
"Well, that was certainly dramatic!" Victoria said, smiling broadly. She stepped forward, and tapped the golden ring on Miranda's finger. There was another dizzying whirl of fabric and light, and suddenly Miranda stood in her old clothes, the dress back on the mannequin. She slipped the ring off and handed it back to Victoria.
"What did you do?" Miranda asked.
"I enchanted the dress to reveal your power," Victoria explained. "It seems your abilities are rooted in storms, rain and wind, lightning and thunder. A powerful gift, I'd say." She took Miranda's elbow, gently but firmly, and steered her back into the hallway and into the gym. "I think we should explore your gifts, find out what you can really do!" Victoria's hand gently smoothed out a wrinkle in the days-old shirt Miranda was wearing, and a glimmer of light seemed to flash across it.
Miranda nodded, agreeing vehemently. She wanted to know every inch of what she could do with these powers.

"That's it/The straw that breaks my back/I quit/Unless you take it back!"
Rachel and Matilda belted the song together, driving down the interstate toward Rachel's apartment. Rachel had been back at work for a few days, her new appearance astonishing everyone and making the end of the week a great one. Everyone kept asking what her secret was. She just waved it off. Probably everyone thought she'd had some kind of radical surgery, but Rachel didn't care what they thought as long as she was beautiful.
Matilda's voice died off mid-note with a curse. Rachel glanced behind her, and saw that a police car had lit up behind Matilda's minivan.
"Damn, damn, damn! I hate being pulled over on the interstate," Matilda swore, putting on her blinker. She changed lanes carefully, getting over to the right side of the road as quickly as she could. Once she was clear, she slowed down and got onto the shoulder, putting her hazards on.
The police officer pulled to a stop behind them, and got out of his car. He walked slowly up to Matilda's window, and gave them both a polite smile.
"Good afternoon, officer," Matilda said brightly, giving him a beaming grin back.
"License please, ma'am," the officer said flatly, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. Matilda handed over her license. The police officer took it, but oddly didn't even glance at it. He peered into the cabin of the minivan.
"Are you Rachel Watson?" he asked, his voice maintaining that odd monotone.
Rachel's eyebrows knitted together. "Yes, is there a problem?" she asked. Anxiety began to build inside her. She hadn't ever been arrested, she paid all her parking and traffic violations, there shouldn't be a bench warrant for her...
"Step outside the car, ma'am," the officer said. Rachel looked at Matilda, who was giving her a wide-eyed look asking "what the hell!?" very clearly. Rachel shrugged, but got out of the car.
She walked quickly over to the back of the vehicle, not wanting to stand anywhere near the ridiculous traffic on I-20. The police officer came back to meet her. She heard a squawk of protest from Matilda, though she wasn't sure what had happened.
Before the police officer reached her, the screech of brakes and squeal of tires behind her made her jump and turn, flattening herself against Matilda's minivan. A red pick up truck swerved to a halt next to her, kicking up a cloud of gravel. She heard the police officer curse, and shot him a wild look; the gravel had struck him in the face.
"Get in the truck, now!" a man roared, sticking his head out of the driver's side window. He was tan, with shaggy blond hair and a stained t-shirt that screamed "do not trust me" to Rachel's big-city instincts. Rachel looked at the police officer, who'd torn off his glasses and was rubbing his face. Her eyes widened; golden flashes of light were swirling around his face, and the cuts and bruises from the gravel were vanishing before her eyes.
"Get in the truck, lady, he's trying to kill you!" the man shouted, gesturing wildly. Rachel hesitated, not trusting this wild-eyed man for a second, but wary of the police officer who seemed to have something bizarre happening to him.
The police officer looked right at her, and she couldn't stop a scream. His eyes were dead white, and his uniform was giving off a dark, ominous brown glow.
He reached for her, and almost grabbed her arm before she managed to tear herself away. She stumbled toward the red truck, and somehow was in it before she realized what was going on. As soon as the door shut behind her, the man driving slammed his gas pedal, accelerating into traffic and narrowly avoiding an eighteen wheeler.
Rachel realized what she'd done, and choked down another scream. "Let me go!" she shouted, scrabbling at the passenger door.
"Calm down, lady," the man said, his voice not terribly calm himself. "I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm trying to save you. My name's Chance, they're after me too."
"Who are? No one's after me!" Rachel snapped. She felt anxiety pressing on her, like a pillow on her face. She was about to go into a panic attack, she could feel it. She tried to take deep breaths, but the deeper she breathed the worse she felt.
"I don't know who they are, I just know I've been attacked three times in the last two days," Chance said, cutting through traffic recklessly. Rachel looked back, and saw police lights in a flood chasing after them. "I've gotten real lucky. We'll need some more luck to get away, from them, though." Rachel looked back at her kidnapper, and was startled to see him gleaming subtly with shimmers of white light.
"What do you mean, get lucky?" Rachel asked, panic making her voice all high and screechy.
"Just, don't distract me while I'm trying to save your life. And maybe text the girl that you were with that I'm not kidnapping you?" Chance replied, staring intently at the road. The white aura around him shifted and swirled like fog, until suddenly it froze, then swirled into nothingness.
In front of them, a double decker car transporter was cruising along. The very back ramp sparked, and crashed open. The metal dragging along the asphalt threw off a shower of sparks, but that didn't stop Chance. He mashed his gas pedal, driving his truck straight onto the truck. Rachel couldn't stop another scream from sliding out of her throat.
"Could you do something to throw them off, maybe?" Chance asked. Without being strapped in, the truck was bouncing around terribly. Chance's white aura was back, though every few seconds it depleted, as if something was drawing it away. "I can't hold us on this ramp forever."
Rachel shook her head. "I can't do anything without a mirror," she said, not even sure of what she was saying.
Chance closed his eyes, which sent Rachel's panic spiking even higher. His white aura flared brightly, and this time it stayed that way, shining brilliantly even in the sunlight. The bouncing of their truck grew worse, and Rachel started to be seriously afraid they would fly right off the top.
Chance was groaning, like he was trying to lift a weight far too heavy for him. His aura pushed out a little further from his body, and sweat stood out on every part of his skin Rachel could see. A feeling of tension, like the way Rachel had always heard lightning strikes made the air feel, began to press down on Rachel's skin.
The truck jolted, and leaped clear into the air. Rachel bit down on another scream, Chance made a sound like the weight he'd been lifting had either been lifted or crashed down on him, his aura vanished with an audible pop, and most bizarrely of all, a huge sheet mirror landed directly in front of them, reflecting the truck, the highway behind them, including at least five police cars caught behind traffic that was desperately trying to pull over, and Rachel's terrified face alongside Chance's exhausted one.
Rachel immediately imagined the truck vanishing, becoming invisible to the police chasing them. Green light flowed out of the mirror, washing over the truck and everything inside it. To Rachel's eyes, everything became almost completely transparent. Chance's eyes remained closed.
"Okay, I think they can't see us now," Rachel said, her voice still trembling. "I'm going to call my friend."
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed Matilda. Her friend answered on the very first ring. "What in fucking hell just happened?" she demanded, her stress exceedingly apparent in her voice. "Why the shit did you get into that truck?"
"I can't really explain, Matilda, but I'm okay, and I'm pretty sure Chance isn't going to hurt me," Rachel said, trying to make her voice soothing. She wasn't sure how successful she was. "I'll try and keep you updated, but I'm fine. He's not doing anything to hurt me."
"Okay, honey, I trust you, but the first sign of trouble and you call the police!"
Rachel tried to keep rueful laughter out of her voice as she agreed, and hung up on her friend. She turned to look at Chance. "Okay, what is going on?"
Chance kept his eyes tightly shut. "I'll tell you when we're someplace safer, I promise. Right now, keep whatever you did going, and tell me when you're done?" Rachel realized the tension in his voice was the sound of someone trying mightily not to throw up. "Looking at it...I don't wanna look at it," he finished. Rachel couldn't tell if his white aura, whatever it did, was glowing right now, but they were no longer rattling around like beans in a maraca.
She looked back. There was a police car behind them, but its lights weren't spinning. The other cars looked like they'd dispersed, and traffic was returning to normal. She reported what she saw to Chance, who nodded, keeping his eyes screwed shut.
They rode in silence for awhile. The carrier they were riding eventually took an off ramp, and the last police car continued onward. Rachel said as much, and looked at the mirror, miraculously unbroken still in front of them. This time, the green light flooded back into the mirror, revealing the truck and the two of them again. Chance relaxed, opening his eyes finally and leaning back into his seat. When the carrier stopped at a traffic light by an overpass, he quickly negotiated the truck off the ramp, his white aura briefly flashing when a car honked behind them. Once they were free from the carrier, he drove slowly into a gas station on a corner and parked.
"You want anything from inside?" he asked, pointing at the convenience store with his thumb. Rachel shook her head mutely. Her panic and anxiety had started to dial down, and she no longer felt like everything around her was pressing on her, trying to push her over the edge, but she definitely needed some time to wind down. Chance shrugged, and walked into the convenience store.
Rachel's phone vibrated, still in her hand. She glanced at the screen. It read, "REMINDER: do laundry." She snorted, wondering what the likelihood of ever seeing her laundry again was
After a few minutes, Chance came back to the truck, holding a Pepsi in one hand and a shiny red peanut butter Twix package, one of the large ones designed for sharing. He got into the truck, and offered her the candy. She shook her head, and made a negative noise.
Chance shrugged, and twisted the Pepsi open, taking a swing. Rachel glanced at him, admiring despite her shakiness. He was trashy looking, but handsome for all that.
"So, I owe you some answers," he said, startling her. "When did you notice your ability?"
Rachel looked down. "A few days ago. I looked in the mirror, and I was...thin," she forced out. She glanced up at the rearview mirror, and felt something that had been straining inside her ease. Green light spiraled around her, and she was suddenly her large, disgusting self. Chance didn't really react, outside of a slight pursing of his lips, like he was impressed.
"That's a really useful ability," he said. "Can you do anything else?"
Rachel looked up at him, startled. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, anger breaking through her fear and sadness. "Like illusions aren't enough?"
"No, no, not what I meant!" Chance said, his voice becoming animated for maybe the first time since they'd...met. "I just...sometimes superheroes have more than one power, you know?"
"Superheroes?" Rachel asked, disbelief in her voice. A tiny speaker in the back of her brain reminded her, you thought it too.
"Well, if you want to be I guess. But we both have superpowers, you know? Isn't that what we're supposed to do?"
"Maybe," Rachel said, doubtful. She was definitely no superhero. "So what's your power? Telekinesis?"
He grinned at her, the first real expression she'd seen on him other than strain. "You are a superhero nerd!" he said triumphantly. "No one else just pops off with a word like that!"
"Answer the question," she said, smiling back in spite of herself.
"I can bend probability," he said. "I noticed it when I got a winning lottery ticket at the same time a bird dived in front of me, stopping me from walking onto a street and getting hit by a car."
Rachel's eyebrows climbed into her hair, but he had a totally straight face. It probably wasn't really any more unbelievable than her ability to make fat vanish by looking into a mirror. A thought came to her.
"So you, Chance...can control the laws of chance? What kind of cheesy comic book is this?"
Chance snorted. "I hadn't really thought of that, but yeah. Anyway, I've been attacked by folks like that police officer. Scary white eyes, acting like they're zombies. I was driving down the interstate and I got lucky, saw that officer's eyes when he was walking toward your car."
"That's a super convenient ability," Rachel said. "But I guess I'm grateful to it."
"It's got more limits than you think," Chance said. "As far as I can tell, I can't change anything that's being acted upon. I throw the dice, all sixes. You throw the dice, anything could happen."
"You made that mirror just fall into that truck," Rachel pointed out.
Chance laughed. "Yeah, and I nearly passed out. That's the biggest thing I've ever done. I don't think I could make a coin land heads up right now. I feel...burned out, I guess."
Rachel nodded. "That makes sense."
Chance turned to look at her, the first time their eyes had met. His eyes were a cloudy blue, unsurprising under his blond hair and eyebrows. "I'm going to Lubbock," he said. Before she could react to the non sequitur, he held up a map. There was a sloppy red slash on it. A closer look showed it was right over Lubbock, a city about six hours west of Fort Worth.
"What the hell is out there in oil land?" Rachel asked.
"No idea. But I've had this feeling lately, like I'm supposed to be doing something. Something more than just changing the oil in cars," Chance said, his voice suddenly filled with an emotion Rachel recognized instantly: passion. He sounded just like the teenage kids she counseled, full of fire and a desire to change the world, just without the knowledge or opportunity to do it. "So I pushed as hard as I could and threw a marker at this map. I'm gonna follow it. I figure, you've got a power, you could probably help me. What do you think?"
Rachel looked at him, at his blue eyes filled with drive, at his truck, which was surprisingly comfortable for something so ragged looking. She met his eyes, and nodded. "I'm in."

"You've gotta practice more if you wanna be a superhero, man!"
Anthony's voice echoed in his head as Andrew viciously attacked the scarecrow dummy in front of him. He had been here for days, maybe. Time was blurry, and thinking was hard. He knew he wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough, wasn't fast enough. And he knew Anthony was dead.
The thought sent a pulse of hot anguish though him. He'd never really thought about anguish, what it really meant. It was like a pit of coals inside his stomach, and a fist around his heart, and burning acid beating in the veins of his face. It was pain, all the time, knowing that his friend had died because of his failure.
But it was strength, too. It was motivation. It kept his focus keen. He whipped his hands through the air. By now, he'd mastered the timing of flexing and relaxing his fingers to send his chains exactly where he wanted. He could wield them as precisely as needles, piercing a spot no larger than a quarter, or he could sweep with them like bludgeons, clearing out huge swathes of space around himself.
Multiple targets popped up around him. This gym was somehow magicked to give him constantly evolving practice conditions. He liked it that way, it kept his mind too busy to think about anything other than getting stronger, faster, harder, better.
He withdrew his striking chains, and took an unusual stance. His left hand he put in front of his right shoulder, fingers splayed, and his right hand he extended over his head, fingers cupped like he was holding a ball in his fingertips. His chains elongated, undulating gently around him, surrounding him with a field of metal ready to intercept anything.
"You have to learn how they work so you can defeat your inevitable nemesis!"
Anthony's words shot through him, leaving ripples of despair deep enough to drown him. His chains burst into motion, heating up to a red hot glow and slicing through the air as he moved. A single motion, left hand raised high and right hand pushed down, then a rebound, crossing his elbows in front of his face.
Searing metal hissed through the air, piercing target marks on ten scarecrows. Just as quickly, Andrew relaxed his hands, instantly withdrawing, and passed his flat palms over his face. The metal engraved in his skin took on the same red hot glow, but after a moment the light left the metal, keeping the angular shapes but leaving his face unscarred. The trick had taken him a few unfortunate attempts to master.
He extended his arms, palms flat and facing up. The angular heat blades flew threw the air, slicing the two remaining dummies in half.
"Wonderful, Andrew," an alluring female voice called. Andrew's muscles relaxed, and all the sizzling heat in the air around him radiated quickly away. He turned to face his trainer/captor/savior/nemesis.
The words battled in his mind, the first conscious thoughts he'd had since he began his practice that day, other than memories of Anthony's last words. He clutched his head, pain growing in his temples.
A gentle hand caressed his forehead. Coolness followed the fingers as they traced an aimless path across his skin. A rough hand grabbed his forearm, and his body suddenly felt as if it had plunged into a freezing bath, cold slicing him to the bone. The metal etched in his face burned worse than anything.
The cold vanished as quickly as it had come, and Andrew's mind was clear. He opened his eyes, and faced Victoria and her henchman/assistant Ben.
Ben was an imposing figure. Even though he wasn't terribly tall, he spent way too much time in the exercise portion of Victoria's enormous gymnasium. His dark hair was cut razor short, and his dark eyes were always cold and evaluating, like he was watching for the first sign of weakness. Andrew had seen him practicing swordplay, which a week ago would have made him shake his head with disbelief. Now, when Andrew was becoming an expert in magical fire-chain fighting, it seemed practically mundane.
Though Ben's physical prowess was intimidating enough, his ability was what Andrew truly feared. He was a healer, and was the only reason Andrew's face wasn't a huge mass of scar tissue after the first few mishaps with his experiments. But Ben wasn't the typical compassionate, forgiving type healers always seemed to be in fantasy and comics. He was vicious, cruel, and unforgiving of any shortcomings. He healed, and did it without complaining, but Andrew had heard rumors he could turn his healing against someone, opening old wounds or blinding them with pain. He would put nothing past those glittering eyes.
"Victoria," Andrew said calmly, not wanting to offend his host. He'd awoken under Ben's touch, with Victoria standing over him. She'd given him the outlet for his grief, and had used her powers to show him what his own capabilities were. He didn't trust her/She'd saved his life.
The flash of a headache flickered through him, but it vanished after a moment.
"You've become a remarkable warrior in such a short time, Andrew," Victoria said. "I'd like you to meet someone else who's been working here. Would you follow me?"
Andrew fell into step behind Victoria, and Ben waited to fall behind him. Not one to let anyone see his back, was Ben. As they walked through the gym, Andrew had the notion that they were walking through smoke, or water. The whole gym seemed to be blurry, as if he could see something if he only knew how to look. He felt the metal in his face heating, and drew his fingers across the angular glyphs, drawing the heat into his rings.
Victoria had shown him, through her enchanted clothing, that his power over metal was an extension of a power over fire. His facial decorations generated heat energy, which he could use a number of ways, and his rings drew on that energy to give themselves the flexibility and strength to be vicious weapons. He could draw on heat from the air, or from other sources around himself as well.
Victoria stopped, and he came up beside her, Ben staying right behind him. In front of them, a young woman stood inside a steel ring in the wooden floor that had to measure at least thirty feet across. Inside the ring, heat haze blurred Andrew's vision, though he could see the woman without any problems. Somehow, Victoria had created a storm cloud in the gym, and the climate inside that steel ring was completely divorced from that outside.
The young woman, a Latina woman with curly brown hair, with wide hips and strong shoulders, stood confidently in the center of the circle. Lightning flashed, illuminating her determined expression. She thrust her arms powerfully through the air, and ripples left her fists to strike dummies that popped out of the ground, much like those Andrew had been systematically destroying.
A dummy behind the woman animated itself, reaching for her with clumsy arms. She whirled, and the rain itself whirled around her, and lashed the dummy like a shimmering, liquid whip.
Liquid it may have been, but it was sharp as any of Andrew's chains, lopping off the threatening arms of the scarecrow without any apparent resistance. Once the dummy had fallen, Victoria clapped her hands.
The storm dissolved, and the heat haze around the steel ring drifted out, joining the general blurriness of the gym. The more Andrew thought about that strange distortion, the more his face heated up and his head began to pound. He focused on the young woman to distract himself.
"Miranda, if you would come here," Victoria called, gesturing gracefully. Miranda walked toward them, stopping a few feet away. From the cautious look she gave Ben, she'd learn to respect the man as well.
"Miranda, this is Andrew. Andrew, Miranda. I brought you both here for the same reason," Victoria explained. "Miranda, you've been doing so well, I thought you might be up to a little spar with Andrew. What do you say?"
"I don't spar," Andrew said, before Miranda could open her mouth.
Victoria's eyes narrowed, though Andrew might have just imagined it. She laughed gaily, and touched Andrew's shoulder lightly. The leather jacket he wore, a gift from her, kept him from feeling her feather touch, but he relaxed anyway. Victoria was a manipulator/wonderful lady.
"For me, Andrew?" she asked. "I want to see my two best fighters against each other, before we start to do the real work."
Real work?
Pain unlike any he'd felt before seemed to crush his skull. He fought to keep it from showing on his face, not wanting Ben to see something weak in him. "Fine," he grunted. He stepped into the steel ring, ignoring Miranda.
When his back was turned to the three of them, he put a hand on his face, covering the triangular frame around his right eye. He thought of Anthony, of Anthony's still face, lying on the ground, of the glittering emerald claw that had stopped his heart.
Flame exploded around his right hand, and he drew it away from his face. A fireball danced over his palm, burning merrily without any fuel other than his desperate loss. He turned back to Miranda, who was looking at him with a worried expression, though she set herself into a confident stance and brought her hands up into a fighting position.
Andrew struck first, throwing the fireball, then flinging his arms out wide. Chains flew through the air, arcing out, then in toward Miranda. He heard her yelp, but she reacted quickly. A gray dome of light burst outward, shattering his fireball and intercepting his chains, making them rebound crazily.
Andrew retrieved them and sent a single right hand probe flying again, while drawing another flame from his face. Miranda deflected his probe the same way, then threw a force blast at him. He shot two more chains into it, splintering the blow.
He glanced over Miranda's shoulder and saw Ben and Victoria. She was toying with a ring on her right hand. An ethereal green claw extended briefly from her fingers. She frowned, and flicked her wrist. The claw vanished.
The pain in Andrew's head, which hadn't ceased since he stepped into the ring, abruptly vanished. The heat haze in the gym went with it, revealing hordes of people, men and women, dressed in the black jacket and dark pants of those who had attacked him that night.
And, worst of all, next to Victoria was the blond man, smirking as he watched the duel, arms crossed and hip jutting out at a cocky angle.
The sight of that man, who had so easily taken him out, took the despair and anguish inside him and ignited it, filling him with a burning hate so strong it left no room for anything else. He roared, and barreled toward Miranda, hoping to disguise his attack so that it went uncountered.
Miranda's eyes widened at his sudden ferocity, and her hand went to her waist, where several blue orbs were attached to her black belt. She grasped one and pulled it from the belt, squeezing it tightly. Blue light began to swirl around her hand, and she pulled back as if to throw a punch.
Andrew passed both hands over his face, drawing out blasts of heat, then thrust them toward the ground. The sudden pressure, combined with the strongest leap his legs could generate, hurled him over Miranda's head. He swung his arms, sending silvery death hurtling toward the blond man and Victoria.
The blond man, however, reacted faster than anything Andrew had ever seen. In the blink of an eye, Victoria was sprawled on the ground, and the blond man was on the other side of the steel ring. Andrew's chains crashed into the ground, cutting through the wood and starting a blaze that quickly spread, eating the wax like candy.
Miranda's sudden gasp was lost in the roar of flames. Andrew flung one hand desperately up, channeling shades of Spider-Man as he threw his chains upward to grab a ceiling beam, slowing his descent. He landed gently, and turned to face Victoria.
The blond man seemed to move like lightning, even as time slowed for Andrew. He couldn't move, but he could see the punch aimed directly at his forehead, sure to knock him out cold.
Then, there was a sense of pressure, and a burst of gray light. The blond man sprawled on the ground, as unconscious as Victoria, and Miranda was standing next to him.
"We have to get out of here," she gasped. "Hurry, let's go!" The swirling blue light still enveloped her fist, though it seemed to be smaller and less violent that it had been. She pelted across the gym, and did something, shooting a burst of blue light into the wall and opening up a hole that led to the outside world.
The two of them ran out, leaving the gymnasium to go up in flames.

NaNoWriMo Post #5

"Tossed salad and scrambled eggs...it's tossed salaaaad and scrambled eggs..."
Antonio blinked, not sure what was going on. His vision was fuzzy, like he'd been asleep a long time, and he felt like he'd been in some kind of fight. His entire body ached.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position. He was on a very uncomfortable couch, it seemed, not quite long enough for his lanky frame. He rubbed his eyes, and looked around. He was in some kind of trailer, with a very narrow aisle, tiny sink, foldable dining table, and one smallish bed extending out of the main trailer.
Outside, a woman was singing, though he didn't recognize the song. Whether that was because the tune was...tuneless, or because she wasn't a good singer, Antonio couldn't tell.
"Madre de Dios," he muttered to himself. "Necesito que terminar despertando en casas extranas."
"Are you awake?" the woman asked. "I have some lunch for you. Breakfast? Desayuno?"
Antonio swung his legs off the narrow couch and got to his feet, stumbling a bit as he picked himself out of the cluttered trailer. He fought with the screen door for a moment before finding the trick to opening it, then stepped out into sunlight.
The sun on his skin felt amazing, like it was washing away the aches in his muscles. He stood and basked for a moment, before the woman started singing again. He opened his eyes and looked at her.
She was short, and heavily built, with black hair that might have been dyed cut to about earlobe length. She was wearing a black tank top and camouflage pants over tough boots. Antonio immediately assumed she was a lesbian, which was fine with him. It made it way less likely he'd gotten entirely too drunk and had sex with someone out in...where was he?
The woman saw him looking around. "We're outside the Lubbock city limits," she told him, reaching into a small box and pulling out a loaf of Mrs. Baird's honey wheat bread. "I rescued you from a mind-controlling cult of fashionistas."
Antonio's eyebrows climbed up his forehead.
"Don't give me that, I know you've noticed weird things going on lately," the woman scoffed. "For at least a week, weird stuff has to have been going on in your life. There's no other reason that I'd have to save your ass from two jacket drones. You were a lot of help, by the way. Nearly threw out my back carrying you into my trailer." She turned away from him, digging through the box and pulling out packages of deli meat and cheese, thumping them down onto a small, white plastic table with flimsy looking plastic chairs set around it. She looked at him as she straightened. "Oh god. Do you speak English? Habla ingles?"
"Yes, yes, I speak English," Antonio said. "Your accent is terrible, please don't try Spanish anymore."
She snorted, tossing down the package of lettuce and setting a bottle of mustard more gently onto the table. "Make as many sandwiches as you want. I have enough food for days. I'm Janice."
"Antonio," he replied, sticking out his hand. She shook it firmly. "So, what the hell are you talking about?"
A mischievous smile crossed her face. Antonio felt a sudden breeze gusting from behind him, and suddenly Janice was surrounded by a red bubble. The only words Antonio could find to describe what it looked like were jellied light; it was as if the air itself had become a semi-liquid and encased Janice.
"Don't look so panicked, Nancy, I did it on purpose," Janice said dryly. The bubble dissolved into sparks, and the breeze died down, leaving Janice standing there, nonchalant. "I'm a protector. I can make shields against any kind of attack. Punches, bullets, cars, explosions, even mind control."
"You keep saying this, mind control," Antonio said, sitting down in one of the flimsy chairs and reaching for the bread. He was starving. "That's not real."
She gave him a disbelieving look. "And a girl who can summon up force fields is? Not to mention whatever bizarre talent you must have." Before Antonio could respond, she just steamrolled right over him. "Listen, Santa Anna. you just got Alamo'd by some girl in a fancy hat. And I ain't talking about pie." Antonio's jaw dropped open, but she continued. "I had to save your ass from being brainwashed."
"Could you maybe start at the beginning," Antonio suggested, tearing open the plastic turkey package.
Janice sighed dramatically, and plopped into the other chair. "Fine, Travis." Before Antonio could point out that William Travis had been white, she continued. "I drive a truck for an oil company down by Odessa. One day, I was driving down this ass-biting two lane country road, with another truck barreling down at me, and this weird thing happens to me. I felt like my truck was gonna vibrate all to pieces, and not in the washing machine kind of way." She paused, giving him a significant look, but he had no idea what she meant. She rolled her eyes and continued again. "Men. Anyway, all the jerking around made me lose control of the truck." Her face had turned rather pink, but she didn't stop talking. "I swung broadside into that other truck, and that's when the really weird thing happened. It was like time slowed down, and I could see everything at once. Fire was ripping out of both our tanks, all the oil just burning away. I could see the other guy in his cabin, trying to get his seat belt off so he could get out, and something just jumped outta me." She made an expansive gesture. "These two bubbles of light popped up around us, and then everything got real quick. Trucks blew to high hell, but we both ended up standing in the middle of the road, not a scratch on us.
"First policeman that pulled up, he had these weird eyes, all white like he was blind. He pretended like he was listening to us, but he threw this scarf around the other driver soon as the sonofabitch wasn't looking. His eyes turned all white, too, and they both came after me." She took a deep breath. Antonio was captivated; no matter how outlandish the story sounded, every word out of her vulgar, racist mouth dripped with sincerity. "I put up another force field. Dunno how I managed, it took me two more days to be able to do it whenever I wanted. The pig had left his car running, so I just got in and drove off. Stopped at home, grabbed my van and my trailer and lit up for Lubbock. Didn't realize the boss of this weird mind-control gang was holed up here too."
"What gang? What boss?" Antonio asked, before biting into his first sandwich. Janice shrugged.
"I haven't seen whoever's in charge, but look." She pointed over Antonio's shoulder. He turned, and couldn't stop a gasp.
Dominating the normally hugely empty horizon was a great, black stone fortress. The stone was nearly concealed by a profusion of brightly colored banners. Antonio's eyes kept trying to slip away from it, but if he focused he could see the fortress clearly, except for a little heat haze.
"That's their base," Janice said. "I followed a couple of them to the hospital in Lubbock, and saw them kidnap you. Got you with one of those mind control hats or something. Nearly lost you, too. Those banners all make it real hard to see that castle."
Antonio shook his head, mind reeling. "What the hell is going on," he mumbled.
"So what's your power, Santa Anna?" she asked him. "Can you fly? Flying would be real helpful right about now."
Antonio shook his head. "No tengo...I don't have any powers."
"Oh, bullshit. Nothing strange has happened around you lately?" Janice said derisively. Antonio paused, and she jumped on it. "You know something, Santa Anna, out with it!"
Antonio heaved a sigh. "Plants have been growing fast around me," he started.
Janice clapped her hands. "Hot damn, plant control! That's sure to come in handy! Think you could grow me some tomatoes?"
Antonio stared at her.
"Fine, be like that," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "What's important is..."
Her voice trailed off, and she sat up straight, her joking demeanor suddenly gone. She held a finger to her mouth and glanced at Antonio. He got the message. She closed her eyes, and a flicker of red light rushed out from her, washing over Antonio with a feather light touch.
After a moment, she cursed softly. "Someone's coming up to us, and they're coming fast," she said. "Camping out here in the plains sucks, nowhere to hide." She swept the sandwich materials into a large plastic sack, and threw that into her little box. "Get ready for a fight, Santa Anna. This better not be no siege of Bexar!"
"Texas won the siege of..." Antonio started, then gave it up. He followed the strange lady out to the front of the trailer.
"See that heat haze?" Janice asked, pointing up into the air. Antonio followed her direction, and nodded. "That's the limit of my protection. It keeps us hidden, but any kind of impact on it is gonna take it down. If that haze disappears you say something, got it?" Antonio nodded. He was starting to shiver, despite the sun beating down on them. He might look intimidating, but he wasn't good in fights. He hoped Janice could keep them safe.
In the direction of the large fortress, and Lubbock proper, he could see two figures running. One seemed to be surrounded by strands of silver light, and the other had a bright blue aura glowing around his body. More figures pursued them.
"Prairie pies," Janice swore. "We gotta help them, they're running from jackets." She waved a hand irritatedly, and the heat haze hiding them from view dissipated. Antonio tried to think of what he could to in a fight. He wasn't like Janice, he didn't know anything about using his powers. The only time he even knew they existed was when Katie had looked at him, or touched him.
Katie! he thought with an internal groan. He'd completely forgotten about her. How was she doing? He patted his pocket, relieved to find his phone. He pulled it out, but Janice stopped him with a roar.
"We ain't got time to send a text message, Santa Anna! We're about to be in a fight for our lives!" The shock of her scream startled him into dropping the phone.
As the two figures grew closer and closer, Janice got more and more animated. She seemed excited at the thought of a fight. Antonio just wanted to throw up. The two people, one a man and one a woman, not both men like he'd originally thought, were obviously running on sheer terror. The woman was gray in the face despite her dark skin, and the man was running with the sloppy, fits and spurts quality someone on their last ounce of strength had. But they both still had those strange glows about them.
Janice flung one hand up into the air, and a burst of red light shot from it into the sky. It spread out into a sheet of pale red light that stretched out, covering an enormous area in front of them, but behind the two fugitives. Antonio could see the black jacketed figures following. One lit up for a moment with silver light, and a glowing silver ring shot from him into the red sheet, which shattered instantly.
"Well, that was a waste of effort," Janice grumbled. "I can't do anything with any punch from this distance. Can you try something?" she asked.
Antonio started to shake his head, then stopped himself. The man and woman were obviously terrified for their lives; he really had to do something to help them.
He stared at the ground between the two and their pursuers. It was mostly dirt, with scrubby grass and stunted mesquite trees. He tried to feel for this power Janice insisted he had. Could he make the grass grow and trap the jackets?
He thought of Katie, lying in her hospital bed. She would help them, and she'd be way more creative than Antonio would. She was forever criticizing movies for using flawed strategies just to make a certain side of a fight lose. She'd be able to come up with something really brilliant to save the day.
He focused on the grass. Grow, he thought at it. Grow, catch the villains in jackets. Grow.
He felt the ground beneath his feet vibrate, and green strands shot up from the ground out in the fields, tangling around two of the crowd chasing after the escapees. Janice whooped and slapped him on the back, breaking his concentration. The impossibly long grass stopped writhing, though the jackets remained snared.
The man and woman finally reached Janice and Antonio, stumbling to a halt. The lady was wreathed by now in rippling blue light, and seemed to be out breath and strained, though not completely exhausted. The man was in much worse shape, his pale skin soaked with sweat. The silver lines of light that had surrounded him were metal tendrils that extended from his fingers, and his face was covered in what looked like metal that had been laid in his skin like etchings on a wall. Antonio wondered how that had been done, and how much it must have hurt.
"Thank you," the woman said between heavy breaths.
"Oh, don't thank me yet, girl," Janice said. "We still got a fight on our hands. You two got anything left to keep these jackets off us?"
The Latina woman smiled, a terrifying expression. "If you can keep them at a distance for about five minutes, oh hell yes."
Janice laughed. "Keeping people at a distance is my specialty. You start working!" She turned, and threw up both hands, spreading her feet and furrowing her brow in concentration.
A gust of air swept out from her, and Antonio felt the temperature noticeably drop. Janice's eyes screwed shut, and the temperature dropped even lower. Red light burned all around her, growing brighter and brighter until it exploded outward, a swirling dome of solid red light that spread to thirty feet all around them, before settling down. Unlike Janice's other shields, this one was colored brightly enough to be easily visible in the sunlight.
Janice panted for a moment. "Something that big takes it out of me, but it should keep us safe for a few minutes," she said. "You getting ready?"
The Latina woman had her eyes closed, and had her hands folded over her heart. Her blue aura was sinking into her skin, dimming and fading from Antonio's vision. After a few seconds, it vanished entirely and she opened her eyes. Her skin was back to a healthy color, and her breathing was normal.
"Just one more minute," she said, reaching to her belt. Attached to it were four blue spheres. She gripped one and pulled it off the belt, though it didn't seem to be attached to anything that Antonio could see.
She squeezed the orb, and her blue aura returned, shining more brilliantly than it had before. She shivered, then looked at Janice.
"I'm ready," she said. She stepped closer to the white man, who was slowly getting control over his breathing, and touched his shoulder gently. A tiny thread of blue light winked into him, and he sucked in a surprised breath, but stood up straight, his weariness seemingly erased.
"I can help, too," he said. His voice still had a tired edge to it, but he popped his knuckles and turned to face Janice's huge shield without any hesitation.
"It's starting to take a beating," Janice observed. "If we're gonna fight, let's get ready. You set to be useful, Santa Anna?"
"Could you not call me that?" Antonio asked.
"I'll take that as a yes. Here they come, ladies!" Janice said. True to her word, the shield developed a huge crack, spiderweb lines of blazing white light running through the dome, until it began to slowly fall apart, shards of red light fading to nothing as they reached the ground.
On the other side of the collapsing dome, ten black jacketed men and women stood, their eyes blank and white, each cloaked in a burning aura of power, though the colors varied. In front of them, a blond man wearing a gray sweater and blue jeans and a dark-haired man in a black t-shirt and what looked like white yoga pants stood. The dark haired man was carrying an honest to God katana, but the blond man was unarmed.
"Oh, shit," the Latina woman standing with Antonio and Janice swore. "We need a new plan, we are so screwed if we try and fight." She looked up at the sky, and swore again. "Can you hold them off again?"
Janice snorted, and started to lift a hand, but the blond man was suddenly gone from where he was standing. There was a flash of gray light, and Janice staggered backward, away from where the blond man was suddenly standing, rubbing his fist.
"That's really annoying," he said, no sign in his voice that he had just crossed a distance of thirty feet in the blink of an eye. "You should stop."
There was another gray flash, and the blond man was lying on the ground. This time, the white man next to Antonio moved, lashing out with his hands. Silver strands from his fingers shot out, binding the blond man before he could move again.
"Hold him still!" the Latina woman said, fear in her voice. She had pulled all of her remaining blue spheres from her belt, and was crushing each between her fingers. Her aura grew brighter and brighter as she destroyed each orb. Behind her, Janice regained her balance and put up a tiny shield, hiding herself and the Latina woman from sight under an opaque red dome.
Antonio stood there, completely confused and without a single clue as to what he should do. The jackets hadn't moved, and the man with the sword was watching them, not acting at all.
"Ben, some help would be nice!" the blond man called out, sounding put upon for the first time.
"I'll give you a few more minutes to get yourself out of that, Richard" the man with the sword called back. "It'll be good for you."
Antonio focused on the ground at the man's - Ben's? - feet. Maybe he could make the grass entangle him like he had the other jackets. He ordered the plants to reach, and knot, and wrap silently, thinking as loudly as he could.
Again, the earth vibrated and verdant lashes lunged through the air. Ben was startled, but reacted quickly, slicing the questing fingers of grass with his sword. Antonio felt the grass being cut, distantly, but the pain still echoed through him.
Don't try that again, he thought. What else could he do? He had to be creative. What could he do with a plant to help?
The blond man suddenly blurred, scooting across the ground. He wasn't moving so quickly he vanished from sight, but his captor didn't have any time once he realized something had happened before a solid kick to the shins knocked him down. The silver chains retreated instantly, glinting in the sun as they slid back to the white man's fingers, leaving the Richard free to stand.
An idea popped into Antonio's mind. He looked up into the sky, and spread his hands wide. He felt the sunlight on his skin, and imagined it sliding into him, running through his veins and gathering together in his chest.
Silver chains lashed out from the white man, getting a grip on Richard again. He grunted and blurred, breaking free and lunging for the white man, who swung his chains, barely fending Richard off.
The red dome around Janice and the Latina woman vanished, and a blast of icy wind shot out, as well as a huge burst of fog. The fog blanketed the area instantly, expanding with unnatural speed, and cutting Antonio away from the sun. The power he could feel gathering inside him remained, but he was no longer able to draw in more.
A hand closed on his arm. "Come on, Santa Anna, we gotta get while they're confused," Janice hissed. "Follow me!" She dragged him forward, toward what he thought was where her trailer and vehicle had been parked. Sure enough, after a minute he heard a car door open, and he was pushed into the interior, which the fog seemed unwilling to enter.
After a moment, the white man tumbled into the back seat with him, and the driver and passenger doors opened, admitting Janice and the Latina woman.
"Can you clear a path?" Janice asked, gesturing out the window with both hands, sending flashes of red light into the fog. The Latina woman, whose aura had nearly vanished, flicked her hands outward, like she was opening curtains. The fog in front of the car thinned, revealing the dirt road that Janice must have driven in on. She turned the car on, and slammed the gas pedal, shooting down the dirt road and fishtailing as the tires fought for purchase on the dirt.
"Miranda, my colleague here is named Antonio," Janice said. "Antonio, this lovely young woman with the knack for actually helping during a fight is Miranda. You'll probably get along great." Miranda gave Janice a dirty look at that, though the shorter woman either didn't notice or didn't care. "Miranda, who's your friend? If we're on the run together I think we should at least be on first names."
"I don't actually know," Miranda said. "I only just knew he existed."
"Andrew," the white man said shortly. He was slouching in his chair, arms crossed and head down. Antonio definitely did not want to mess with him; the brief chance he'd gotten to see him fighting against Richard had been like a glimpse into a prison fight, full of rage and survival.
"Well, Andrew, Miranda, welcome to our little good-guys club. You saw my power, I make shields. Antonio likes to grow plants. If that Richard fellow shows up again, I'm sure he'd love a nice begonia."
Antonio looked down at his lap, but to his surprise Miranda came to his defense.
"Don't rag on him like that, Janice. It's good that you can handle yourself in a fight, but not everyone can do that. It's no shame on Antonio that we got out before he could do anything, and besides, you have no idea if he did something you didn't notice!" She looked back, and caught Antonio's eyes. He tried to show her gratitude in a glance. She smiled slightly, and nodded.
Janice heaved a sigh. "Ugh, you're right. Santa Anna, I'm sorry. You need to figure out how to take care of yourself, though."
"This might help," Miranda said, reaching to the back of her neck. She pulled a simple gold chain from around her neck, and handed it back to Antonio. "It's a charm from Victoria, it helps you figure out your powers. I've been using it for about a week now."
"That sounds handy," Janice said, sounding impressed. "Who's Victoria?"
"The queen bee," Andrew said suddenly. There was silence in the car while everyone waited for him to continue, but he didn't elaborate. Miranda finally started to talk again.
"She's the one who controls the black jackets, I think," she explained. "She can enchant clothes, or accessories, anything made of cloth or anything you can wear. She's very, very powerful. She was training me and Andrew to be fighters for her, and she had us under at least a little bit of mind control, to keep us from seeing it."
"How'd you break it?" Antonio asked, curious. He hadn't even known he was being controlled until Janice had rescued him. It would be good to have a way to fight.
"I didn't, really. Andrew did it," Miranda said. "I think it was something I was wearing. He hit me with fire, and it burned my shirt." She twisted to show Antonio the burn she was talking about. He blushed; she was pulling the shirt out, and accidentally revealing a lot more cleavage than he thought she might have intended.
"Holy crapola, Santa Anna, turn it down!" Janice yelled out suddenly, swerving. Antonio blushed a thousand times hotter, thinking Janice was talking about his attraction to Miranda, who was very pretty. Then he saw the fields around the car, which were turning lush and green. A wash of tiredness swept over him, and he collapsed backward, breathing slowly and trying to stop...whatever he was doing.
"So who was that blond guy?" Janice asked, when there was no longer a profusion of rapidly growing crops around them.
"His name is Richard. He's one of Victoria's main assistants. Him and Ben." When she spoke the second name, Antonio could feel the fear suddenly coming off her. "Richard is basically the Flash, I think. He can move incredibly fast. I've had to fight him a few times, and he always wins just because I can't react fast enough. If you could slow him down and keep him still for long enough, he'd be easy to neutralize. Ben's the scary one." She shuddered, and got quiet.
"What can Ben do?" Antonio finally asked.
"He's a healer," Andrew said quietly. "But he likes pain."
"He can heal, but he can also make you hurt," Miranda said softly. "He likes making people hurt. He's scary enough with that sword, but if he can get to arm's reach, he'll make you wish you were dead just by touching you."
"That's terrifying," Antonio said.
"Anything else we need to worry about?" Janice asked, her voice incongruously cheerful.
"That's all I know," Miranda said, looking back at Andrew, who shook his head.
"Then we need to find someplace safe to rest," Janice said. "Any of you have any ideas?"
"We could go to the hospital," Antonio offered. "I can get us in there, and there are beds and food."
"Sounds good to me," Janice said. "Way to be useful, Santa Anna." By this time, they'd gotten onto a paved road and were close to being in the city limits. Antonio could see the Covenant buildings on the horizon. He hoped they were safe in the hospital. A fight there could have terrible consequences. He thought again about Katie, and was soon lost in his worries in the silent car.