Scorched

Into two big guys, who grabbed my shoulders and yanked me forwards.

I stumbled, but they dragged me to my feet. A woman in a pale suit smiled at me. A blond woman with glacial blue eyes, who held a gleaming silvery helmet.

Dr. Mengele.

No. My blood screamed cold. My muscles spasmed in terror, the remembered stink of piss and fear. I'm not a bad person. I can't go back there. I can't.

Someone had betrayed me. They were sending me back to the asylum.

A wail of denial ripped my lungs raw. Escape, or die.

6 (#u7ec06da1-b29d-5425-b9ac-a6246f9e9543)

I yelled, and let my power explode.

The glass walls shattered, and crashed in silvery waterfalls. Breeze swept in from the street, dragging my hair wild. People in the double-story lobby screamed and ran. The two heavies stumbled, and something sharp scraped the skin between my neck and shoulder, the hot sting of a needle. A plastic syringe tumbled onto the tiles. They'd been about to stick me, fill me full of sleepy-time shit so I wouldn't struggle.

Good luck with that.

Mengele kept coming. Should have killed the evil bitch when I had the chance. More of her people came out of nowhere on all sides, running for me. Behind the reception desk, the lobby security guy reached for his radio. I crouched, panting, and sized up my enemy. Surrounded. No way through. No way out.

I gathered my power beneath me, and leapt.

Force flung me skywards. I somersaulted, and fell, dragging the air downwards with all the strength I could muster. The heavies looked up. I landed in a crouch in their midst, slamming my fist into the tiles with a crack like thunder.

Boom! The shock wave rippled outwards, shattering ceramic as it went. The floor quaked. Mengele and her heavies staggered, and I sprang to my feet and sprinted for freedom.

I hurdled spiky broken glass and screeched out onto the sunlit street. People gawked. I shoved them aside. Behind me, heavy footsteps pounded, Mengele's goons coming after me. I had a few seconds' head start, if that. Better make the most of it.

I ran across the street, dodging honking traffic. Despite the danger, it felt good to run, wind in my face, blood pumping in my legs. But my scratched shoulder felt hot and numb at the same time, and I knew with a sinking stomach that some of their helljuice had made it into my system. It was only a matter of time before I fell and couldn't get up. If I wasn't safe before that happened…

I ran faster, my thighs protesting with a fresh burst of lactic acid. Tires squealed and drivers yelled abuse as the goons followed, not as agile as I was. I ducked through a corner coffee shop, leaping the tables with a flex of power. The goons would have to go around. Score another few seconds for me. I skidded around another corner, out of sight for a few precious moments. A brick two-story was jammed in between two ten-floor glass office buildings. An old guest house or something, converted into a bank, its sloping tiled roof shimmering in the sun.

No time to think. I leapt onto the roof, and crouched beside the chimney pot, dying to gasp for breath but barely daring to inhale.

The goons tumbled around the corner. My chest ached for air. I didn't dare move. Sweat trickled down my neck. My shadow loomed frighteningly large on the roof tiles. Surely, they'd see me. The buildings either side were too tall, even for me. I can jump, sure, but I can't fly. And I couldn't climb those smooth glassy walls…

My sweaty fingers slip as I clutch the glass. The stairway's cut off, enemies everywhere. I have to climb. Fifty stories below, the ground looms. Swirling wind threatens to sweep me away. My stomach plummets, but I scrabble and drag myself skyward…

I swallowed, dry. The numbness in my shoulder was spreading. I had nowhere else to run. Surely, they had to see me.

But the goons didn't look up. They just kept running.

I let out my breath in a rush, and gulped for air. They weren't dumb. I didn't have much time before they realized their mistake and came back. Gotta get out of here.

I stood, and dizziness rinsed my balance thin. I staggered, clutching the chimney. Jesus. My fingers were numb. I couldn't stand straight. Fighting creeping nausea, I crawled to the rear of the building and peered over the edge.

The ground telescoped, shimmering. I closed my eyes, lowered myself over the gutter. Dropped to the ground, cushioning my landing with a clumsy flex of power.

The narrow alley was shadowed and caked with grime. A few plump black trash bags heaped next to a dumpster. I leaned against the wall for a second or two, sweating, struggling to straighten my thoughts.

I had no other clothes. Couldn't disguise myself. And I had nowhere to run to. I couldn't go back to Adonis's place. Someone in my own family had betrayed me, and they'd know where to look. I was on my own…

Someone shoved me, and I bounced off the brick wall and fell.

Terror squeezed my guts. I scrabbled to get up, run. But a boot slammed my shoulder, pinning me down. A smoke-roughened voice taunted me. "What have we here, lads? An uppity little augmented bitch, that's what."

Huh? I fought to clear my vision. Big blond kid, sleeveless black hoodie, steel hoop earrings. Not a Mengele goon. Three of his friends slouched behind him. A skinhead one spat nonchalantly on the sidewalk, the chains on his jeans clanking. A dreadlocked girl popped pink bubblegum, stretching it around one tattooed finger. Another fat one sweated, his pasty skin gleaming, and clutched something shiny and round in his fist.

Haters. Great.

I struggled to rise, but my thigh muscles softened like pudding, and the ground kept sliding out from under me. Frustration jabbed me sharp in the belly. I didn't have time for this. "Look, just lemme 'lone, 'kay."

"I seen you jump onto that roof, bitch." The leader prodded my collarbone with his boot, cracking my head back into the bricks. "Who the fuck you think you are, Supergirl? You're not welcome here. Geddit?"

"Uh-huh. Whadebba … " My mouth was stuffed with sticky string. Goddamn it. I tried to focus, to stretch the air like elastic and fling these assholes away from me, but I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't flex. I was just plain Verity, and I couldn't get away.

Shit.

He kicked me. I barely felt the pain, just my ribs bending under the force, my skin swelling. Again, more, all four of them getting into the act.

Hysterically, I laughed. These morons would kick me to death before Mengele's goons could get to me. And thanks to the drug, I couldn't even feel it. That was some funny shit.

I tried to crawl away, to cradle my head in my arms. The sidewalk scraped my elbows raw. Crimson splotched from my nose. A punch slammed me into the wall, dizzy. I spat red, and crawled some more. What else could I do?

The leader loomed over me, his spiked blond hair dripping with sweat, and dragged my chin up with a fist in my hair. "Like that, bitch? Where's your power now?"

Dimly, I fumbled for my list of oh-so-witty replies. Up your butt, you stinky hater.Your momma wears jackboots. Or just plain screw you. That's always a good one.

The fat one gave a slobbery grin. "You ever make an augmented bitch squeal, Bro?"

"I don't believe so, Slugger." Bro's smile split wider. "I'm thinking we should see to that."

"I'm thinkin' you're right."

The girl popped her bubble gum, shuffling. "Jesus Christ. You can't do that."

"Shut up, Cookie." Bro dragged my head back harder, and reached for his belt buckle.

I coughed out a bloody mouthful. Take that out and I'll bite it off, you whiskey tango son of a bitch, I tried to say. "Urrphh…"

He screamed, and clawed at his own face.

I scrambled back, bewildered.

He kept screaming. Kept digging his fingers deeper into his own eyes. The others did the same, howling and flailing about in unseen agony, and finally they hurled curses and staggered off.

Huh? I hadn't done that. I couldn't do that. What the hell just happened…?