Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Nick smiled as he walked down the block, casually swinging his arms at his side and humming an uplifting tune to himself.

“Another day. Another stolen wallet. Another jerk thrown in jail,” he thought optimistically. 

He reached into his pocket and extracted his most recent spoil of war: the businessman’s wallet. He rooted through it and extracted several large bills before disposing of the wallet itself in a nearby trash can.

Marty was a nice guy, so Nick had given him back his stolen money, but that was an extremely rare kindness for him. After all, he did make his living pickpocketing. He considered himself the best pickpocket and conman in DC, a fact he was very proud of.

Even though he stole for a living, he actually didn’t consider himself a bad person. After all, he needed the money more than his victim’s did. He was kind of like Robin Hood, just instead of giving the money to others, he kept it for himself.  

But Nick was more than just a common pickpocket. He was also what some would call a vigilante. By day, he stole as a criminal, but by night, he was a crime fighter. He was no slouch in hand to hand combat, a skill that proved very useful in many situations. Sometimes, he even used his powers, but always as a last resort. If there was a way he could avoid using them, he always did.

Many would probably question Nick’s lifestyle. Didn’t his two lives conflict with each other? How can you be a criminal one minute, but a crime fighter the next? To Nick, however, the contradictions were what made his life interesting; even if it gave him headaches when he thought about it.

He chided himself for letting his mind wander. Now was not the time for thinking. Now was the time for work. He looked around, searching for anyone who would make a worthy target. Sadly, aside from the cars, the street was void of pedestrians.

He continued to make his way up the street, stopping in his tracks when two men rushed out of a store, viciously yelling at each other. Without warning, one of the men reeled back and socked the other in the nose, driving him hard to the ground.

“You think you can fire me?! I will sue you! See how you like me then!”

The victim got up off the ground, blood flowing down his face as he glared daggers at the other man. He turned around and stalked back from where he came.

Nick couldn’t suppress a grin. Obnoxious? Check. Overly Egocentric? Check. Long jacket which left his pockets open for the local pickpocket to take advantage of? Check. “My next victim,” he thought, continuing to smile.

He put on his best “just awoke with a hangover” face and stumbled towards the assailant. He plowed into him, sending them both flailing onto the sidewalk.

“I’m so sorry, sir!” Nick cried, slurring his words so they blended together. He got to his feet and extended a hand to help the other man up, but he only shrugged it off and got up himself. With a murderous glare at Nick, he turned and walked out of sight.

Nick chuckled and removed his hand from his pocket, revealing the recently lifted wallet. Too easy.

And so the day went. Nick continued to walk around Washington DC until he had amassed a large collection of cash, all liberated from wallets and purses. All in all, not a bad day.

The sun had just went down when Nick picked his last pocket of the day. He decided to treat himself for a fine day of work by popping in a local ice cream joint. He emerged a minute later with a monstrous chocolate cone in hand, compliments of his victims. Before he could take his first bite, the sound of sirens pierced the night, causing Nick’s head to snap upwards from his cone. Nick looked down the street and saw several cop cars darting towards him at high speed. Panic overtook Nick as he ducked into an alley to avoid being scene.

Luckily for him, the cars whizzed by, making no indication they had noticed Nick. He smiled. If they weren’t after him that meant it was time for him to get ready for his other job.

He walked deeper into the alley and crouched down behind a parked car. Grimacing, he reluctantly tossed his ice cream into a nearby trash can. There was no time for eating now.

He dug deeply through his bag, desperately searching. Finally, his hands felt the smooth fabric and he pulled.

From the bag emerged a black biker’s jacket, which Nick quickly pulled on. He then dug deeper, extracting a crudely stitched black mask, which he put on as well. With the mask and coat, Nick looked pretty intimidating, which was, of course, the point.

Nick had recently taken his vigilante status a step further with the costume. It was all part of the legend he was building up around himself. It had begun among the homeless living on the streets speaking of a super powered hero who defended Washington from the forces of evil. They had even gone as far as giving him a name: Dark Angel. Though Nick did as much as he could to spur the rumors on, the name was an unexpected addition that he thoroughly enjoyed. Most people saw the legend of Dark Angel as pure fiction, but that didn’t stamp out the rumors.

Some said Dark Angel was a demon who attacked the wicked. Others said he was a story invented by a Senator who wanted to win reelection. Neither of these were true, of course, but Nick often found it amusing to hear all the things people were saying about him, which were very often untrue. He always tried his best to remain unseen, but every so often, a factual story or two of his actions would leak out. Even if it did, though, it would only spread to those living on the streets who were used to life in the city behind the scenes. If you asked anyone else in the city about Dark Angel, they would look at you like you were mad.

“Time to go,” Nick thought to himself, clamoring to his feet. He ran over to a ladder alongside the building and began to climb. A minute later, he emerged on top of the roof. From his new vantage point, he could see out over the rooftops and saw a line of them running off in the direction the cops had headed. Perfect.

He mentally prepared himself and began to run. Since it would attract attention to see a man dressed in a black jacket and mask running about the streets of Washington DC, Nick always preferred the road less traveled. In this case, the rooftops of the city. He jumped as he neared the edge and flew through the air. Unfortunately, he misjudged the distance somewhat and landed with a crash on the other side, falling hard into the gravel rooftop.

“I really need to practice that more,” he thought to himself. After a few more rocky attempts, Nick began to fall into his stride, flying quickly over the city without anyone on ground any wiser. A few minutes later, he could hear the sirens again. He stopped running when he saw the lights.

He peaked over the side of the building he was currently standing on and was shocked at the scene which lay before him. About a dozen cop cars littered the streets in front of a large building, many of which appeared to be SWAT. Cops were rushing into the building, guns drawn. Several carried semiautomatic weapons.

“What in the world is happening here?!” Nick thought, continuing to examine the scene. “Did World War III break out?!” Eventually, his eyes drifted to examine the building itself, which he found odd. It looked to be a government building, but the walls were all situated at funny angles. The architecture was strangely familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Suddenly, he froze as realization dawned on him.

“Holy crap!” he cried out loud, unable to contain his surprise. “It’s the Pentagon!” Sure enough, the strangely shaped walls of the Pentagon were difficult to miss. Suddenly, movement caught Nick’s attention in the parking lot on the far side. It was a “blink and you’ll miss it” moment, but the brief glimpse he saw in the light of a streetlamp was just enough to spark his interest.

He looked down at the cops, and was unsurprised to see none of them had noticed it.

“Guess I’ll have to do your job then,” he said. “Again.”

Nick found a ladder and shimmied down it as quickly as he could, jumping the last several rungs so he could reach the ground quicker. He ran as fast as he could, ducking behind any obstacle he could to avoid being seen by the cops.

He stopped behind a tree near where he saw the movement. He looked around, but saw nothing. Suddenly, a crash echoed through the night, followed by some rather foul mouthed swearing, which was just loud enough for Nick to pick out amongst the chaos going on behind him. Nick ran towards the noise, which had emanated from behind a nearby building.

A minute later, he emerged onto an abandoned side street. He looked down it to see a larger man a few blocks down limping away.

Nick cleared his throat and called out in his “Dark Angel” voice, which was much deeper than his own.

“Hey!”

The man snapped around, and upon seeing Nick, turned and continued to run, this time at a faster pace. Nick cursed under his breath and ran to catch up.

The other man turned around again to see Nick catching up, then ran down an alley. Nick grinned. The alley was a dead end. He had him.

Nick turned down the same alley and was greeted by gunfire. He just managed to avoid death by the slimmest of margins, jumping to the side as bullets whizzed by him. He heard the unmistakable sound of a car starting up, followed by the rev of an engine. The man he was chasing sped out onto the main road in his truck, which he had conveniently parked in the alley. 

Nick cursed and got to his feet, running out into the middle of the road. The truck was speeding away and was just about to round a corner. Panic seized him as he watched his quarry getting away. He had to use his powers.

He raised his hand to aid in concentration, focusing hard on the tires of the car like he had done with other objects before. He closed his eyes and willed the air within them to swell, trying desperately to burst the tire. He had never done anything like this before, but he was desperate.

He might have been successful too, if not for an invisible force suddenly seizing him and throwing him unceremoniously through the windowed front of a restaurant.

 

Erica Mclain ran across the rooftops, hopping from one to the other with the greatest of ease, using her powers to fly her to the next. The mercenary had given her the slip a few blocks back, but she was hot on his trail again.

With all the commotion at the Pentagon, it was a miracle she saw him duck out at all. She was in the middle of subduing a particularly heavily armed man when she noticed movement to her right. The man had broken away from the fray and ran out a side door, but Erica wasn’t going to let him get away that easily.

When Tom first said there was a break-in at the Pentagon and they were called in, she was ecstatic. Today wasn’t really going her way, but a nice quiet mission could easily turn it all around. Little did she know that the mission would involve getting shot at and running across the tops of the city. Not really an improvement on her already bad day.

“Hey!”

She paused as she heard the voice ring out over the city. It was deep and could very likely be the man she was trailing. She picked up her speed.

She stopped at a rooftop overlooking a deserted street. Suddenly, shots rang out and she looked down the street in time to see a figure dressed in a black mask duck out of a side alley. Seconds later, an engine revved to life and a truck barreled out of the alley onto the main road.

As the truck sped away, the masked figure held her full attention. Anyone who wore a black mask had to be up to no good.

“You’re wearing a black mask too idiot,” she thought to herself. Erica fought the urge to laugh.  It was true, but she had a perfectly valid reason for wearing hers.

She leapt down onto the street, concentrating to cushion her fall. The masked figure had ran out into the middle of the street and had raised their hand towards the truck speeding away.

“Funny,” she thought to herself. “It almost looks like he’s an Enhanced too, which is ridiculous of course.”

She stopped and flung her hand forward, grabbing the masked figure with an invisible grip. She then threw the figure sideways, sending him careening through the front window of a restaurant.

“Perfect,” Erica thought, but a little too early. The masked figure was already rising out of the rubble.

 

Nick got to his feet slowly, groaning while he did, unsure of what had just happened. He looked through the now broken window out onto the street, where a figure was standing that had not been there before. Like Nick, the figure was dressed in black, but that was where the similarities ended. The figure’s suit was much more refined than his. It was a full jumpsuit complete with armor plating running across the chest and arms and a tool belt around the waist. The mask was equally intimidating, with no skin visible. The only feature on the mask were two grey ovals over the eyes, which were pointed downward to give the wearer a permanent scowling look. Compared to this costume, Nick’s looked like it was made by a kid.

“So, are we going to fight now or what?” Nick called angrily across the road. Whoever this was stopped him from apprehending the man. Either this person was an associate of his, or just happened to attack him in the middle of the street for no reason. Either way, Nick was mad.

There was no response for the figure, but Nick got his answer anyway. The masked figure held up their hand and an invisible grip fell upon Nick, plastering his arms to his sides and rendering him motionless. He struggled about, but it was no use. He slowly lifted into the air and floated forward towards the figure.

Nick’s mind was running wild. Who is this? What do they want with me? Finally, his mind rested upon one fact that was at the forefront of his mind. This person is like me.

Suddenly, the situation he was in took hold in his mind and he began to breathe heavily. If this person was like him, he knew what they were capable of. He had to get away. Now.

Panic seized Nick and he began to breathe heavily. His mind grew blank as fear was replaced by rage. He opened his mind, not bothering with concentration, and just let his power flow through him. The buildings around them began to rattle, but Nick couldn’t hear them. Blood was rushing to his head so quickly, all he could hear was the roar in his ears.

Suddenly, Nick let loose a scream and the street exploded.

Glass smashed on buildings and flew through the air. Mortar and brick cracked, sending fractures through the cement foundations like cracks through ice. The invisible grip on Nick vanished and the masked figure was thrown into the air like a rag doll. A torrent of dust, glass, and rock swirled around them both like a whirlwind.

The torrent continued, unchecked, swirling around them both threateningly as if wanting to tear them to shreds. Nick’s mind was blank. There was no room for thought. Only power.

 

To say Erica was scared would be an understatement.

What she was witnessing was like anything she had ever seen before. Even…no, she would not even think his name…but even he didn’t have this much power.

What surprised her even more than the enormity of the torrent surrounding her was the masked figure himself. He had the power too. What are the odds she would run into one on the streets of Washington DC?

“Stop this!” she called out, but it was no use. The whirlwind drowned out any words she attempted to say, leaving her mute in the chaos.

Dust was picking up, preventing her from seeing out of the torrent. “Come on!” she thought. “Where are they?”

She tried using her powers to bring herself to the ground, but any effort was futile. Whoever the masked man was had more power than she would ever hope to process.

Buildings were crumbling around her, causing large chunks of concrete and mortar to join the fray, whirling around her, promising death if they struck.

Erica could do nothing but close her eyes and pray for a miracle.

 

What happened next could only be described as a miracle. Part of a building was ripped from the rest and flew through the air, breaking up as it did. A piece left the others and cracked Nick on the side of the head, bringing him back to reality.

He looked around him as a cold wave of terror took hold.

“NO!” he cried out. How did he let this happen again?!

He breathed in and out as calmly as he could, trying desperately to bring the torrent around him under control. Gradually, the cyclone stopped, causing its contents to unceremoniously come crashing to the ground, including his assailant.

What was left could have been mistaken for a war zone. Buildings were half missing. The street was torn up in spots and flung fifty feet to the side. Water was gushing from the ground in spots where pipes had been smashed. Nick observed the horror around him and tears began to fill his eyes as horrible memories flooded his mind. He collapsed to his knees and began to sob.

The weather appeared to mimic Nick’s feelings. At that moment, a flash of lightning illuminated the street, followed by a crash of thunder. Then, the clouds opened up and rain fell heavy upon the rubble.

Suddenly, a throbbing pain appeared in Nick neck. His hand flew up to it, feeling a dart protruding from his flesh.

The street swam in and out of focus with several things seeming to happen at once. A woman yelling. A flash of lightning. Masked figures descending upon him. Then darkness.