Heroes From Lincoln Chapter 1

             I sat on top of one of the highest buildings in Lincoln, Nebraska. The title of Lone Wolf hung heavy on my mind. I was one of what? Five. It was a popular name done again in different languages, making it easy to separate us. But, there was one in South Dakota where I think I had a legal dispute. Then, there were the three that were no longer around. Those were distinguished from the rest by the year they passed. 87, 01, and 14. Respect the fourteenth was how the kids put it whenever they played supers on the playground, and one of them claimed that tacticians could never fight ‘real’ supers.

             I don’t know why I thought of the subject so much. I think it was in a self-aggrandizing way. Oh, how are people titling me? Is it something awesome, or is it ‘that lame Lone Wolf from Nebraska’? In honestly, that was most likely how they thought of me, just that one guy from Nebraska. I saw my popularity numbers. Numbers were calculated through some complex web research by the IT guys. The numbers weren’t good. I didn’t care. If I did I wouldn’t have come back.

             I looked down the building toward the road. I watched a group of young men causing a bit of a good-willed ruckus. Sour memories surfaced and sank according to my will. The building wasn’t that high, and the city felt more like a sprawling suburb, inorganic and hard to navigate. I attempted a subtle glance over my shoulder at my partner. Dust Devil was a kid cape in a red and orange onesie. No face hole or anything. He was looking out toward the city with a pair of binoculars.

             “Look, there’s a new Vietnamese place opening on the 27th.” He pointed to an advertisement that was just a blurry smudge to me. I should get my eyes tested. “You think we could stop there after our patrol.”

             I grimaced. A sour and blurry memory of a bar crawl came to mind. Now, I couldn’t eat the stuff without remembering the taste of vomit that night. “Let’s not. It doesn’t agree with me.”

             “Oookaay,” He continued to serve the city for other eateries. “Do you just want to eat at Reggie’s again?”

             “Yeah, that will do,” I straightened my shoulders. There was a satisfying series of pops and cracks from the movement. I was sure that it wasn’t good in the run, but it felt good for now. I shifted my weight to get onto my feet.

             “Are we going now?” He pocketed the binoculars in the utility belt around his waist.

             “Yep,” I walked back from the ledge.

             “But we’re still on duty.”

             I walked back to the ledge. “Oh, Yeah, tons of work to do; look at all that crime.” The kid's mask hid his face, but I could sense the eye roll. “Look, Look, that mother just jaywalked with her kid. I’ll arrest the mom. You think you’re up to fighting an eight-year-old?” I saw that his shoulders were slouched. “Look, you transferred here to unwind, kid. Lincoln is one of the best places to do that for a super.” I placed my hand on his shoulder. There was a wash of discomfort at the action. I had only known the kid for a week. “Let’s get some burgers. I’ll pay.”

             “Fine, but I’m doing a sweep afterward.” His body started to evaporate into a miniature cloud of sand that whirled in and out of itself. The cloud started to float toward Reggie’s.

             “I was gonna say race you,” I watched him float off in his dust form. I stepped back toward the center of the roof and pulled forth from myself a spectral wolf made of blue light. The wolf pounced forth and shook its whole body. “Hey, Boxer, how’s my good boy doing.” I bent over and scratched the wolf's chin. He was the biggest of my pack. I took from my utility belt a strap that worked both a collar and bridal for the conjuration and fastened it onto him. You see, wolves are bigger than most would think, and mine were even bigger. Big enough to ride.

             Boxer leaped from the top of the roof. The wind blew through what remained of my hair.  The chill ripped right to my bones. My body jerked forward at the impact of Boxer's landing on the roof of a lower building. The feeling was familiar. Not pleasant but familiar. I pulled the rain toward the next roof, and he leaped again and again. By the time we were to the ground, my shoulder ached. “Ugh, Good boy, just that way.” I pulled on the rains to guild Boxer. His mass shifted as he lept and bounded to the restaurant. I began to catch up to the swirling cloud of red dust. The wolves I could create were extraordinarily fast since they technically had no mass unless they needed it. I had no control over their choice of when to have or not to have mass. It was all about guidance. It was the only way to work with them, not control but guide.

             I heard the varied comments from the pedestrians. Boxer leaped over. Shouts of praise, Hatred, and annoyance. Eventually, I passed the kid, and the boxer skidded to a stop in front of Reggie’s. shifting my weight, I unmounted Boxer and gave him a scratch behind his ear. At the touch, he turned in corporal and returned to my chest. I turned and watched the kid drift downward and consolidate back into his human body right next to the door. “Looks like I beat you here.”

             “You were close, but I got to the door first.” The kid placed his hand on the door handle.

             “Nuh uh, I got here first. Just because you’re at the door doesn’t mean you won.” I walked toward the restaurant.

             “From where I’m standing. You know, in the doorway looks like I won.” He pushed the door open to let me pass into the store.

             “Well, from where I’m standing. You know, in the dinner, Looks like I won.” I smiled at the kid. I couldn’t see it on his face, but I could see the humor in how he moved.

             “We’ll see who gets to the both first will win.”

             “Aww, so that’s the new finish line, but I think it should be whoever gets out of the place first, Dusty.” I watched Dusty pick both and sit down. I sat across from him. When I did so I felt my stomach pool over my belt. That’s what you get when you have a diet like mine.

             “You two ready to leave already,” Clarese was an older woman in an old fifties style work dress that fit the general theme of the restaurant. The place was a fifties-style dinner with one twist. It was wall to wall with photographed photos of heroes that had come to the dinner. All were black and white, taken with an ancient camera. Nice place good food.

             “No, I’ll have my usual,” I pushed the menu toward Clarese.

             “You say that as if I’m supposed to remember that.” She tapped a pen to her notepad.

             “Oh, sorry.”

             “I mean, I do, but you better not expect that from our other servers.” She began writing down on her notepad. “And you, hun?”

             “I’ll just have a cheeseburger and fries, and a lemonade,” he handed the menu over to her.

             “O course. I’ll have that out to you in no time,” She finished writing and walked to the back.

             They sat in silence for a bit. Dust Devil looking at all the pictures. “So where’s your photo at? I’ve been here a couple of times, and I haven’t seen one. They even Have one of me.” He pointed over at one where he and Double Think were sitting in one of the corner booths.

             “Me and the owner had a falling out, to put it lightly.” I rubbed the back of my neck and leaned backward.

             “Oh. Is that why the rest of the team doesn’t talk to you that much?” His head, after darting from photo to photo, turned slightly back toward me.

             He was clearly fishing for some answers that had been left unanswered with the team. “Not the same reason, but it was done in one fell swoop, and I wrecked everything.”

             “Do you mind me asking what happened? It’s all been kinda hush-hush. Even the newer members who have been here longer than me don’t know anything.” I watched his hands as they swirled a miniature dust cloud with his finger, the way one might stir a cup of coffee.

             “Listen, kid, I like you, but I need more time before I tell that story.” I gave him a little ‘please don’t push just now’ smile.

             “Ok, but I-”

             “Here’s your order,” Clarese placed the two plates and their drinks in front of them.

             “Thanks.”

             “No problem, New guy.” She winked at him. “You come in Some other time, and we can get your picture up there.”

             “I’ll do that.” He gave her a thumbs-up.

             “Thank you, Clarese.”

             “Uh ah,” and she walked off.

             “Wow, no one really likes you,” Dust Devil lifted up the chin of his mask, placed it firmly over his nose, and took a bite out of his cheeseburger.

             “That’s what you got when you got a power like mine,” I shrugged and dug into my meal.

             “Urm…,” He swallowed a bite of his burger. “Sorry, but what do translucent dogs have anything to do with people liking you?”

             “Powers aren’t that simple, kid.” I took a bite, barely chewed it, and tossed it down the hatch. “They all have their drawbacks, and I mean all.” I leaned back in my chair again. “You know Glacier?”

             “Yeah, the Boston Cape.” He dipped a fry in a puddle of ketchup that was on his plate.

             “Well, his body never acclimatizes, so he’s always too cold or too warm and not in a fun way. Steal Trap has severe social anxiety when interacting with people he hasn’t met. And The Boston Beast can’t talk. That’s actually a regular problem for mutates like him and laser shooters, but that’s because of the noise, and there are just a lot of ways that can keep you from verbal comuni-.” I got lost in my own explanation of the complexities of powers.

             “Yeah, I knew a kid like that, Sasquatch. Wait, Why do you know so much about Boston Capes? You just listed off the Boston Brigade.”

             “Well…” I rubbed the back of my neck again. “I was a reserves member for a while.”

             “Woah, that’s major stuff. They're like one of the bigger times on the West Coast. No offense, but why did you come back here?”

             “It wasn’t going anywhere.” Dust Devil looked unsatisfied with the answer. “Huh, Being on the Reserves has some perks, and they always say you’re going to be on the official team next showing, but it never happens. I got a good toy deal out of it with Mattol.” I took a sip from the coffee that had been given to me.

             “Wait, how come they never told me about any of that stuff in beginners training?” He pointed the remainder of his fries at me. It was a singular overly long crispy yellow fry that he had been saving for last.

             “Did you have any Deaf people on your team? They could have also been non-verbal.”

             “No.” He took the last fry and ate it with his response.

             “Well, that’s just it. The Desk people usually want to avoid the training because it isn’t cost-effective, but in the good departments, they will have you go through ASL training and tell you the basics of power care. But if they don’t have to they will just tell you how to fight and push you out the door.” I took the last bite of my Burger.

             “That’s a bit cheap of them.” He whipped his mouth with a napkin.

             “It’s all about money. That’s the cost of freedom.”  I raised my glass into the air, and an alarm went off on my belt. It was shortly followed by an alarm coming from Dust Devil. “Looks like we will be leaving early.” I tossed thirty bucks onto the table. The two of us got up from the booth and started to leave. “Money on the table. See you soon, Clarese.”

             “Don’t come back too soon.” She said as we went through the front door. To a cacophony of traffic noise, pedestrians, and what little excitement this place could provide.  

Thank you all for reading. I plan on releasing a chapter every 2-3 weeks. It depends on what I think I can do. If you have any comments or critiques, please share them with me through my Gmail. Please be constructive. Next post, I’ll be back to my regular stuff on my blog.