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B1-32: TURNCOAT

  Have you ever woken up and wanted nothing more than another five minutes in bed? The comfort of my shitty motel blanket fought against the cold of the metal floor beneath me, in its cruel attempt to wake me up. I almost managed to fall asleep again, but then I heard someone say my name.

  I looked around the back of the food truck, barely lit by the light coming through the cracks of the back doors. Tóxica was gone, just her pile of blankets left behind. From outside, I could hear muffled conversation.

  I slowly creeped towards the door, blankets draping off of my body. My breath stood still, doing my best to remain hidden. If we were being ambushed, then I couldn’t let whoever was outside notice me. But as he spoke again, I recognized the voice of the man outside. It was Frank.

  I was many things throughout my life. I was a thief, a criminal, and a killer. Despite the bad that I’ve done, I still didn’t like the idea of spying on my friends. There wasn’t much room for trust in this world, but I trusted them. However, they were talking about me, and I let my curiosity get the better of my morals.

  “I’m no fucking turncoat,” Reload said. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of turning traitor.”

  “Hey, woah, I’m not saying that.” Frank defended himself, a frantic tone in his voice. “I was just saying that it’s all a bit much. We’ve managed so far, but the situation has just been getting worse no matter what we do!

  “I’m just an ordinary, and it’s terrifying to have all this attention on me. It was one thing when we just fought the Disciples, but we’re being outnumbered three-to-one on supers alone. And even with the bombings, they still have thousands of henchmen left.”

  “So what? We still have Taker leading us, and I trust our boss. If he thinks we can win, then we can.” Reload defended me.

  “Tóxica, what do you think?” Frank asked.

  “If nothing changes, we will die. But he makes things change. That is what he is good at,” Tóxica answered. “And if he cannot change things, then there is nothing for us to do. It is too late to doubt him, we can only follow.”

  After that, I pulled away from the door, giving back their privacy. It felt nice to know that Reload and Tóxica had faith in me, even if they felt like very different types of faith. What worried me was Frank.

  I understood where Frank was coming from. He’d nearly died in the fight against Squirm, and he’s been on the sidelines since then. It was only natural to be afraid when facing a stronger enemy. But as a leader, it was my job to appear even stronger than whatever we may face.

  I pushed open the back doors, yawning as I hopped out. “Good morning, guys.”

  The three of them were loitering around the back of the food truck, startled at my sudden appearance. Reload was reclined on the hood of his new Camaro, Frank was sitting on a small milk crate, and Tóxica was standing. I hoped that none of them could tell I was eavesdropping.

  “Hey, bossman!” Reload smiled. “How’d you sleep?”

  I sat down on the bumper of the truck. “Slept pretty good, so that’s nice. Did you hear anymore bombs going off?”

  “The last one was an hour ago, but they were slowing down before then,” Frank answered. “I’m a light sleeper, so they kept waking me up.”

  “Sorry to hear that, Frank. But trust me, a bad night’s rest is worth it. Any of you check the news?”

  Tóxica was scrolling through her phone, but she didn’t answer me. The look on Reload and Frank’s face let me know that they sure as hell didn’t. I pulled my phone out and went to the local news page.

  “Check out the article I just sent you.”

  There were already dozens of articles talking about the bombings last night, just like I figured would happen. They flooded out any other local news, even the attack on The Crab Factory. We’d taken out over a dozen safehouses, and well over a hundred henchmen. But that wasn’t the only headache we were causing for the Disciples.

  The mayor was now talking big about how he’ll be different than the mayors before, the leader that would clean up Villain Territory. Once the connection between the bombings and the Disciples of Agony was made, he ordered the heroes to actually do something.

  There was an unspoken agreement between Hero and Villain Territory, where we kept out of each other's backyards. But while it was easy enough for the richer citizens to ignore the murders, thefts, and issues of our district, this was a lot harder to push aside. They were afraid. Afraid that they would be the ones in danger.

  But even if the pressure was nice, all it did was hold the Disciples back. Heroes are just cops with an even greater superiority complex. They’ll gladly bully the henchmen walking around the streets, maybe even fight a weaker villain. None of them were ballsy enough to actually fight Agony, however. That would be our responsibility.

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  “It says that they’re sending five heroes to patrol the area. Do we need to stay low while they’re around?” Frank asked.

  “We shouldn’t do anything too risky, but it’s not like we’re the ones they’re after.”

  “Where are y’all seeing this?” Reload looked up from his phone. “I’m just seeing some tits from this hot single in my area.”

  “How the hell are you finding porn ads?” Frank and I moved to see Reload’s screen. “I thought Dendranet got rid of spam like that.”

  “Don’t know, my phone just does weird shit.”

  As if on cue, a small wizard appeared on his screen. The wizard vibrated as a text box appeared, telling Reload that he needed to buy more RAM. He had dozens of notifications on the top of his screen, from apps that I’d never seen before.

  “Reload, what happened to your phone?” Frank asked.

  He just shrugged. “It always gets like this after a bit. Doesn’t bother me, the apps help me out with managing my passwords and shit.”

  “Dude, it’s been like a week since you got this phone,” I said. “I wasn’t even aware that phone viruses still existed. It’s like you have the phone skills of a geriatric.”

  “Who cares about phone bugs or whatever. I’m still a better shot than the two of you, and that’s the shit that actually matters.”

  “What? I get that you have gun powers and everything, but that doesn’t mean you’re a better shot,” I argued with him. “Don’t forget who won our duel.”

  “Just because you won doesn’t mean you’re better than me in a shootout.” Reload smiled and pulled two pistols from his back. “But if you need a demonstration, I’d be happy to show you.”

  Before I could accept, Frank interrupted us. “No! We need to stay low, so no shooting each other or anything.”

  Reload grumbled and I felt a bit annoyed, but he had a point. “Alright, we can go a day without any violence.”

  “No promises on tomorrow,” Reload added.

  “Does it really matter which one of you is better at shooting?” Frank asked. “I mean, you guys always shoot at the same thing anyways.”

  “I’ve been shooting for the past four years of my life, and I was the most accurate henchman the Disciples have ever seen. Just because he has gun powers doesn’t mean he’s automatically the best.”

  “Four years?” Reload laughed. “I’ve been at it since I was a kid. My first memories were my old man letting me shoot his rifle. Recoil feels like a mother’s kiss to me.”

  While I was enjoying our friendly argument, that made me grow curious about his powers. “Wait, when did you get your powers?”

  “Oh, I got them last year. I was working as a mercenary down south when I lost my pistol during a firefight. I had no clue that it was missing when I went to pull it out, so I accidentally awakened. If it wasn’t for the sudden super resistance, I would’ve been killed while reading my ability,” he chuckled.

  “Huh, I always thought supers could only get them as kids. Taker, do you have a story behind your powers?” Frank asked.

  “Nah, nothing good. I got them at fifteen, and it was when I wanted to grab a remote off the table. Unlike some people,” I eyed Reload. “I didn’t have powers that started off great.”

  “So you guys don’t know you have powers until you use them?” Frank stood up from his milk crate. “Is there really no way to tell? Like, maybe Throm lets you know?”

  “No, you’re a completely normal person until you figure out whatever you need to do to activate your powers. It can be an action, a thought, or it can just activate on its own. Even our healing time is normal until we can see the system.”

  “So I could have powers right now and not know? That’s honestly pretty cool, but also sort of upsetting.”

  “Upsetting?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “I mean, it would be nice to have a useful power. But then I’d have to think about how long I had it without knowing, and how I would have had a different life if I figured it out earlier. I would hate to spiral over wondering what I lost because I never knew that I could teleport or something. Just talking about it is getting me a bit stressed,” he chuckled. “It just opens up too many possibilities for me to think about. So I guess I’d prefer to just have none.”

  I loved talking about powers, it was something I picked up when I was young that remained as an obsession. Like how some people are with fanfiction. But I wasn’t the person to handle the somewhat uncomfortable direction Frank took the conversation in. I turned to Tóxica, who was still on her phone, actively uninvolved in our chat.

  “Hey, Tóxica, how’d you find out about your powers?” I asked.

  She was focused on her phone, ignoring us. After a few too many moments, she answered while still on her phone.

  “I was twelve. I kept my powers a secret, saving up poison. Carried some around in a small bottle. Some men bothered me during my walk home, so I transformed. When I returned back to normal, there was nothing but blood.”

  We were all silent, as she continued to type on her phone without paying any attention to us.

  “So, you killed them?” Reload asked.

  “Yes, I think so. There weren’t any bodies found, though.”

  Honestly, I wasn’t going to let a few murders bother me. We had already killed hundreds of people, and we were actively planning on killing more. But the idea of a twelve year old turning into a murderous crocodile was still unnerving.

  “So, Taker, do we have anything to do today?” Frank asked me, hoping to change the subject.

  “I mean, not really. I was thinking about going to find Surge, now that the Disciples are busy, to try and set up a line of communication.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t mind driving you,” Frank offered.

  “Alright, either of you two want to come?” I asked Reload and Tóxica.

  She didn’t bother to respond.

  “Nah, I’m good.” Reload stretched as he replied. “But you can’t take my Camaro, though. I need it to look at.”

  “Don’t worry, we wouldn’t drive the car of the guy we just murdered. The car that’s also filled with his blood. Just seems like a bad idea, if you think about it at all.”

  Frank went off to grab the car keys to his cars while I picked up some guns from Reload. While I had told them to keep the car away from any of the safehouses, there was still a chance it could be recognized. So it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared for a fight.

  We headed out soon after, leaving the others to watch over the food truck. I told Frank to take the scenic route on the way there. He played a fusion jazz mix, giving a nice feeling to the calm car ride.

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