Hope Called Themselves the Renegades, ch. 2
AFGSHFDGBH HELLOOOOO PALS! <3
First of all, I want to thank you SO much for the support last chapter received. If I’m being honest, I didn’t expect that :’) so thanks for liking and reblogging and even commenting afgshja <3 <3 <3 I love you all SO much! <3 Like I said, I’m going to be uploading every Monday :) and today we’re finally back, with the second chapter! and...there’s not much explanation to do :) except that, well, you can read the first chapter here: https://claustrophobicteapot.tumblr.com/post/628613810117312512/hope-called-themselves-the-renegades-ch-1
And, also, I’m going to take this opportunity to thank again the talented @healing-winston-pratt and also @ng5132 who drew the icon and the banner for this blog!
With nothing left to say, let’s just jump right into it :) reblogs are VERY appreciated!
Tag list (if you want to be added or removed, just tell me): @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @alecjamesartino @magykaldealings @kaiderforever @nova-artino @timerosesandstars
2: When the Best Is Not Enough
8 years into the Age of Anarchy...
Simon’s parents left on a Sunday dawn.
It should have taken them only around three hours to get all their stuff in the truck (it’s not like they owned many things anyway) and maybe a day to get to…wherever they were hiding now, but Hugh pledged he would be mad at them the rest of his life.
Not because of himself, but because of Simon, even though when they came to the collective realization Mr. and Mrs. Westwood had left, Simon seemed unsurprised and a little unaffected, claiming he knew that would happen eventually.
And, to be honest, they all knew. Every parent of a prodigy child did that at some point, because it was easier to run away from the problem than taking care of it like a decent human being would do with the living creature they had willingly put in this Earth.
Yet, being conscious of that didn’t cause Hugh to feel less mad, because Simon didn’t deserve that.
He was a good person who didn’t deserve to be abandoned by his parents, nor by anyone.
Of course, they wouldn’t have been capable to persuade them to stay, but that wasn’t what all of this was about. If they had been a little more sensitive and had the tiniest bit of humanity in their selfish beings, they wouldn’t have thought about leaving in the first place.
But they did.
They felt the need to do it, they planned it and then, without saying a word, they left.
And that day the house felt overwhelmingly huge, but as time went by, it got smaller and smaller until it returned to its original size again. And their situation shaped itself into a pretty bittersweet life with an established routine, sleeping in the basement of the house just because down here was more cozy than up there, not really sure whether someday they would be kicked out of it because the entire city was nobody’s land and properties got stolen all the time.
However, one of the few positive things about Ace Anarchy’s reign was that services were kind of cheap, perhaps because economy had been slowly collapsing for a while now. Of course, all those services were lousy, but at least they could pay them.
Well.
Georgie and Tamaya could pay them, because they were the ones with jobs, arguing the rest of them were too young.
Maybe Kasumi was too young, but Hugh and Simon weren’t. They were already 14, while Kasumi was only 11.
At least they let them help a little. That is, Georgie always managed (Lord knows how, because getting a legal or even safe job was almost impossible these days) to get jobs in supermarkets or restaurants, but Tamaya’s job was travelling to different cities to sell stuff, from spare parts they had found in dumpsters and managed to turn them into something useful again (that’s what she used to do before moving in to the Westwood house. She didn’t have any help back then, of course) to pieces of chrome…which, obviously, came from Hugh.
Overall, Georgie was very lucky she was so charismatic and likeable. People kept hiring her no matter how much her previous bosses said she was not pleasant to work with. And it’s not that they were telling the truth… it was just that every single time Georgie had been fired from a job, it had been because she had gotten a little too distracted/had talked too much and her co-workers had noticed she was a prodigy.
Which was, obviously, a disgrace to the business, because being a prodigy was an automatic synonym to not being pleasant to work with.
Because of course all prodigies had an Anarchist mindset.
Bullshit.
Shaking that thought out of his head, Hugh took another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
Once again, he realized how stupid it was to tell him he wasn’t allowed to be the one to slam the TV with his fist to get it to work. Simon’s argument was that he was an absolute hothead who would be capable of breaking the TV if he lost control for a minute.
That wasn’t entirely true; Hugh knew how dangerous his powers could be, and he always tried his best to have self-control.
Right now, Tamaya was the one slamming the TV while Simon moved the rabbit ear antenna from one side to the other.
Again, this would’ve been easier if they would just allow Hugh to do it, but they refused to every time, so, at this point, Hugh just decided to stare and wait.
The dancing black and white stripes kept on blocking the screen, and Hugh chuckled.
“You’re doing great.” He said, which caused Tamaya to fix a glare on him, but Simon didn’t even acknowledge him.
It was in that moment that they heard the front door as it opened, and Georgie appeared in the living room. She certainly had looked worse, but that didn’t change the fact this time she looked defeated…to say the least.
She had her hair down, and Hugh figured that, perhaps, her hair band had finally given up in life, given that her hair, besides being beautiful, was very heavy; as for the rest of her body, she also had some scratches and small bruises that were starting to turn purple. She looked like she had gotten into a fight with a stray cat.
“Though day?” Simon smiled at her, without taking his attention off the antenna.
“Yeah. I guess that’s one way to put it.”
Georgie groaned as she threw herself into the sofa, massaging her right foot.
“Too much for a family-friendly supermarket job.” Hugh chuckled, to which Georgie smiled, before getting up again.
She walked barefoot towards the kitchen, in silence, and for a moment the only thing Hugh could hear was her voice saying hi to Kasumi, who probably was coming up with some random dessert they would later force themselves to eat because they couldn’t afford wasting ingredients this way.
Meanwhile, after a relatively strong slam, the TV showed cooperation signs.
Hugh flinched, thinking they probably were going to be able to watch some TV in peace, but once again his plans and thoughts were interrupted, as Georgie stood by the kitchen door with a tired frown and asked:
“Which one of you finished the milk?”
That’s when it hit him.
Right in the face.
And his gaze went down, straight to the bowl full of cereal he was eating. Which, of course, contained the milk Georgie had purposely hidden at the back of the fridge because she liked to have milk and cookies when she came home from work.
“Hugh!”
“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot, I…! “ He covered his mouth with his palm, because he was chewing. “I promise I didn’t…I must’ve…Ugh. I’ll bring another gallon of milk.”
Georgie had both of her hands around her hips. And it’s not like she looked mad (she rarely got bad at people), but she was…tired. Just that.
She looked like a person who had had a tough day and just wanted her microwaved cookies and her milk, but couldn’t have them because some dunce had stolen said milk from her.
“Rude much?” Georgie clicked her tongue. Not even her biggest effort to smile made the gesture look more genuine.
“Do you want my cereal?”
“Eugh.” Georgie rolled her eyes jokingly. “I’m swimming in cereal boxes every day. Please don’t. “
“You should get going, then. Genius.” Tamaya arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s getting late.”
“I’d rather not.” Georgie grimaced, to which Hugh turned towards her immediately.
“Oh, really?”
“No, I mean, you’ll have to bring something to make it up me, but now I want strawberry milk instead of plain milk.”
Hugh couldn’t help but let a nervous chuckle escape his mouth. Like, he knew what strawberry milk was, and he knew Georgie well enough to be aware of the fact she sometimes had it as her breakfast or even as a snack (“snack” in her words, because that wasn’t even a solid food but a beverage instead). But Hugh, himself, had never tasted that thing before.
“Where the heck am I supposed to get that from?”
“Oh! Oh!” Simon clapped his hands together and even jumped a little as if he were asking for permission to speak in a large crowd. “I know where! From the vending machines!”
Vending machines.
Well, that made sense.
But there was a tiny, very tiny extra detail Simon might’ve missed.
“The vending machines from…where?”
“Oh.” Simon tapped his fingers on his chin. “Well…In any vending machine that has beverages you can find, I guess. Uhm…but the vending machines from the subway station are cheaper.”
“You sure know a lot about vending machines, don’t you?” Tamaya tilted her head to the side. “Have these two been slaving you around to get food while we’re not at home?”
“No!” Simon chuckled. “But sometimes that’s where I get my Maltesers from. So…that’s a thing.”
Hugh couldn’t help but smile; sometimes, when Simon had to explain something, anything, he turned into a bundle of nervousness, even if he had been previously upbeat. It was something pretty…adorable, even amusing to watch.
“I could go with you if you want to.” Simon cleared his throat.
“Sure, that would be great!”
“Oh, really?!”
“Yeah, sure!”
“Fiiine, but get going, guys, let’s go!” Tamaya snapped her fingers, to which Georgie chuckled. “What did I just say? It’s getting late.”
Tamaya was so bossy it was annoying sometimes, but Hugh refused to blame her only because he knew where she was coming from; although she wasn’t living in a deplorable condition anymore, the damage was already done, so she was extremely paranoid about everything, to say the least.
So, before she could get any angrier, Hugh took another spoonful of cereal (He would have to apologize to Georgie once again when they came back, because she even massaged her temples when she saw him eating cereal that contained her milk) and reached for his hoodie and his false glasses, while Simon went downstairs to bring his scarf and his beanie.
A couple of seconds later, they were outside the house, heading towards the closest subway station, which was more or less 30 minutes away by foot (They could’ve gotten in a bus or a taxi, but Georgie and Tamaya considered that an unnecessary waste of money).
(Easy for them to say. They could fly).
On the other hand, he was with Simon, so he couldn’t complain.
Simon always managed to make everything less horrible, and he didn’t even have to try.
Not for Hugh, at least.
In fact, he had to try so little that even walking next to him made that half an hour feel less monotonous, with all that small talk and little comments about the city, like “Look, Hugh, there’s a bird there! Why is there a bird on a lamppost at night?” or “Do you think Tamaya would get mad if I buy her a hot dog? She says she’s never tried them because they’re expensive.”
It’s just that….
Simon had something.
Something that caused Hugh to get madder at his parents for abandoning him every time he thought about it.
Simon deserved better.
And Hugh expected to someday be able to make it up to him.
That was his job as his best friend.
-.-
Upon arriving to the subway station, it was very noticeable they had arrived just in time for the last peak hour, which at least for them made perfect sense because it sort of coincided with Georgie’s schedule.
Since they were surrounded by so many people, Simon grabbed Hugh by the fabric of his hoodie.
And it was odd, to say the least, because Simon was supposed to be the one to lead the way (he knew where to find the vending machines). On the other hand, he knew Simon wasn’t that big of a fan of crowded spaces, so he just followed his instructions until they got close to one of the trains.
There, against the wall, was a vending machine which, even if it looked kind of rusty, did look better than nothing at all.
Once they were in front of it, looking through the glass, Hugh found the strawberry milk, which was located at the bottom of the machine, alongside the other beverages. It was also, indeed, cheaper than he had expected, to the point they wouldn’t need to use a bill to pay for it.
“Do you have change?” He asked Simon.
In response, his friend took his hand into his pocket and then provided Hugh with some coins, which he then put inside the machine and proceeded to introduce the code for the strawberry milk.
They stared at the machine as the circular started, just like two small children would stare at their favorite cartoon in the TV; they stared as the lock started spinning, slowly, as if they had all the time in the world.
And it spun, and spun, ant it stopped.
And the milk didn’t fall.
Hugh scoffed.
“What a scam. “
“Uhm. Weird. This never happened to me before. We should go look for another vending machine.”
Simon straightened his back, with the intention to start walking, but as soon as he noticed Hugh remained in the same position, he asked:
“You coming or what?”
Hugh stared at his reflection on the glass. Then, his attention was drawn back to his own reflection and, consequently, at the stuck strawberry milk.
And Hugh smiled, because he knew what to do.
“Naw.” He said.
“Stars, Hugh.” Simon got closer to him again. Hugh could hear resignation in his voice, but at the same time nervousness.
“Just… don’t go too hard on it, will you? We’re in public.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be careful.”
He waited until the lady who was passing by was far from their sight (probably already inside the wagon) and it was then that Hugh cracked his knuckles, grabbed the machine by each side and shook it as if it didn’t weigh a pound.
When you were a prodigy, every time you used your powers you could feel something like a spark burning inside of you. It was terrifying when you were still getting used to it, but once you came into terms with the fact this was just another part of you, it felt incredible.
Hugh liked to believe that was what freedom felt like, and he loved it.
Sadly, it also stopped him from being capable to control his powers; so, just like Simon (and himself too…a little) expected, he went a little bit overboard. Suddenly, the bottom of the vending machine was full of junk food, and carton drinks.
Right in front of their eyes.
In a crowded room where, fortunately, everybody was too busy minding their own business to notice.
Simon, however, was gawking. A dark veil of utter, ruthless terror decorating his face.
“….Holy smokes, Hugh.”
And, against all odds, Hugh laughed.
Just because he didn’t know what else he should do.
“Isn’t it cool?”
“BRO! Like…It’s…It’s noooot (???)” Simon started cackling, although Hugh could feel the panic flowing out of him.
The take-out port, overflowing with stuff, appeared to be staring back at them, waiting for any of the two to come up with a quick solution before somebody could actually notice.
“Hugh.” Simon said, already shaking a little. “What do we do, Hugh?”
“Ssssh. Relax.” Hugh laughed, wrapping an arm around Simon’s neck.
In response, for some reason, Simon lowered his head, as if he were trying to hide among his scarf like a turtle. He was pale, and got even paler when a pair of men in suits passed by, chatting with each other.
“Ohmygodwhatdowedo?”
“Heeeeey.” Hugh finally let go and pinched his cheek. “We didn’t murder anyone, okay? We’re just gonna take the drugs…”
“DRUGS?!” Simon snapped, before putting his hands against is mouth, so hard it almost sounded like he had slapped himself.
His eyes moved around the place, checking if somebody had noticed.
Because, honestly, if anyone had noticed that, it would’ve been embarrassing.
To his luck, they clearly were still going unnoticed.
“Hey. Breathe.” Hugh smiled, amused, grabbing him by the wrists. “It was only a joke, alright? I’m sorry…I know you’re nervous and I shouldn’t have said that. Just…breathe.”
Simon gulped as he started nodding, slowly as he could. By maintaining his hold, Hugh felt the exact moment when Simon’s pulse steadied, and then he said, way more calm:
“Let’s get this over with. We’re gonna take what we paid for and then we’ll leave…like this never happened. Everything clean. Everything legal. We good?”
“Roger.” Hugh winked and smirked at him; to proceed, he turned around to kneel in front of the vending machine.
Mercilessly, Hugh put his arm inside of the take-out port, while Simon stared everywhere, frantic, as if Hugh were committing a felony and he was in charge to wait at the door and notify him in case he saw cops.
Hugh held the box with his free hand, narrowing his eyes to look inside the port, until he saw a little, pink carton and reached for it, his tongue sticking out his mouth, and resting on his upper lip.
Sure, he promised Simon not to take out anything else, but in the moment he had the opportunity to grab another bag, he took it with no hesitation.
It wasn’t until he was back on his feet that he noticed that what he had taken out besides the strawberry milk, was a bag of dolphin-shaped gummies.
Simon’s face lost tension almost immediately.
“Oh. Kasumi would like those.”
“Welp. You know what Ace Anarchy said.” Hugh faked a heroic pose. “It’s free real es—“
Simon snorted.
“Stop. He never said that.”
“But that’s what he did.” Hugh smiled, as he approached Simon and put the gummy bag inside of his hoodie. “Besides, I don’t’ think anyone will notice.”
“Yeah…” Simon took a deep breath as he scratched the back of his neck. “No one will notice.”
And, for a second, it seemed to Hugh that they weren’t talking about the same thing, making him feel a little confused.
“What’s wrong?” Hugh asked in a slow, soothing voice, trying to get into Simon’s nerves as little as he could.
But Simon flinched anyway.
“O-oh…no…nothing, it’s just…”
His voice went inexistent and, suddenly, Hugh noticed his eyes had gone dark and were fixated on a very specific focal point.
Hugh then followed his gaze, which led to the closest wagon, straight to the men in the gabardines. Hugh arched his eyebrow, perfectly conscious about where Simon’s suspicion was coming from.
“Do you still have change?” He asked him.
Simon nodded and, after paying for their tickets, Hugh’s tickets, they climbed on the train.
-.-
For a while, everything seemed calm. That is, if they didn’t want to count the suffocating cigarette smell emanating from the men’s clothes.
But, well, that wasn’t that suspicious on its own whatsoever. Perhaps a little annoying, but not suspicious, and when they were met with nothing but the regular monotony of a subway trip, Hugh started to think that they might’ve gotten the wrong idea.
Until then the power went off at plain sight, and the train stopped.
Just like that.
The indistinct chatter started in a blink; confused and annoyed passengers started asking each other what on Earth was happening; why was the power gone; why had they stopped.
That’s when Hugh felt the person next to him moving.
One of the men in gabardines.
He said something. His voice hoarse and low, almost as if he were speaking like that to hide his real tone and pitch.
“Everybody calm down. I’m gonna go check what’s wrong.”
Sure you will.
Once his eyes got used to the darkness, Hugh managed to see the other man, sitting right in front of Simon (although he didn’t know that. In fact, nobody knew Simon was here, not even the cashier) as he got up to follow his peer, all the way through the cabin, in silence.
If they were out of power, it meant that the doors would stay shut closed until the unit was provided with electricity again, but they had no time to loose, so in the moment he managed to see Simon appear out of nowhere and nod at him, Hugh rushed towards one of the doors to open them by force.
In Hugh’s experience, that wasn’t very difficult. On the contrary, the difficult part of the process was being able to do it quietly. Because, in addition, in the very moment the passengers noticed there was something wrong, their chatter stopped; it vanished into thin air, so there was nothing to suffocate the sounds of the gates being forced open.
“Do I evacuate them?” A voice without a body filled his ears, and Hugh’s tired lungs felt relaxed for a bit.
A little bit, before he had to speak, saying:
“Please be careful.”
“You too.”
That being said, Hugh started walking through the path the two men had previously followed, a little nervous but determined, until he reached the door.
Trying to ignore the background noise, cause by some people refusing to follow Simon’s orders (Hugh sometimes wondered why people felt the need to be so annoyingly stubborn, as if obeying someone who was trying to help them would crush their egos) he pushed the cabin’s door a little.
No movement.
Hugh pushed a little harder.
Still nothing.
He came to the conclusion, then, that it probably had been blocked from the inside, using some type of barricade.
And, well, two could play that game.
Hugh stepped back, maybe a little further than he should’ve had. And, before he could get any remorseful or insecure thoughts, he ran towards the metallic door, hitting it with the side of his body.
Once again, the spark grew bigger and bigger inside of him, and it burned. Hotter and hotter. Faster and faster. Bolder and bolder.
By the time Hugh realized he had gone overboard again, it was too late.
The door was already on the floor, along with the fragment of the train it had been attached to.
When he was in synch with his surroundings again, he noticed that all the eyes in the cabin were on him. On his fortunately hooded face.
At least six different pair of eyes, whose owners had gagged the driver of the cabin and put him aside, in one of the corners of the small control center; cold sweat running down his temples and forehead.
One of the men, who wasn’t wearing a gabardine but was wearing a black balaclava, was the first one to shoot.
The bullet bumped against Hugh’s chest (Sweet rot, what an excellent aim). It caused him, perhaps, barely a little itchiness that could easily be confused with tickles, before falling to the ground; a delicate string of steam coming out of it.
“What the fuck?” The man spoke.
And it seemed like, instead of providing them with a clear clue that wasn’t going to work, it only made them try harder.
First it was a lot of guns pointing at him; then, a lot of small bullets flying towards his body.
Hugh was hit by each one of them, yes, but he still remained unharmed. And the spasm he felt in his lips notified him he was smiling.
Smiling to himself.
Smiling to them.
In retrospect, it shouldn’t have surprised him they went berserk.
Hugh would’ve also been mad if he were a 40 year old man and a 14 year old teenage boy were out powering him.
Now, that could hurt a person’s ego.
Under the enraging realization it was a prodigy who they were against, one of them ran towards Hugh, stamping him against the wall (Well…one of the walls the door hadn’t taken with it). He felt a calloused hand grabbing him by the hair, and…well, it’s not that Hugh knew much about combat (not yet) but he didn’t need to be that smart to recognize this tactic; so, before he could have his head repeatedly slammed against the wall, Hugh pushed his body back with his palms, with such strength the man fell to the ground.
The next one came to him like a furious bull a breath after that.
Their hands interlocked for a second before he joined his partner on the floor, after Hugh purposely pushed him back with all he had. Which, to be honest, was way more than what a regular human being had.
And they remained there, immobile.
Hugh started to wonder whether they were still alive or not, but before he could dive deep into that question he felt the pressure caused by the sudden movement of the train; the lights were still off, but they were moving again…and at full speed.
He tried to think of himself as the heaviest human being that had ever stepped on this Earth; heavy enough that not even something like that could cause him to loose balance.
But even if he put his mind into it, it didn’t work.
Hugh fell to the ground anyway. So fast he didn’t even get the chance to willingly use his powers.
Once he was lying there, the world spun around his head like the dancing cups from Cosmopolis Park.
One station. Another one.
The speed began to decrease, only a little.
And a voice.
The voice.
“CHROMIUM?!”
Simon.
Oh, thank the odds he was okay.
“Warden!”
“Who the fuck is he talking to?!”
“Someone….Someone’s changing the direction of the rails! We’re gonna crash against a dead end, you must get out of there!”
Hugh tried to get back on his feet, stumbling. It was hard to breathe, as he was still recovering from the sudden exposition to that much speed.
“DID YOU GET THEM ALL OUT?!”
“Err…n-not quite.”
Hugh waited for him to say something, anything, but after that one last line, all he got was silence. Hugh knew why. He really did.
“THEY WOULDN’T LISTEN! I TRIED TO….I-I TRIED TO…! “
“Doesn’t matter. It’s not your fault.” Hugh finally found the balance he, for some reason, thought had lost forever.
There was no time.
“Hold on to me now!”
Another shower of bullets followed them, trying to hit the invisible voice Hugh talked to with so much familiarity. When he felt a human body with more or less half his corporal mass trying to climb on his back, Hugh breathed again.
He was okay.
He was alive.
He was okay.
He was still here.
“Here we go.” Hugh said under his breath.
A kick on the main door, which at the same time hit the person who was in charge of guarding it.
A leap, in a strangely correct moment.
Simon’s weigh off his back.
The dead end right before his eyes.
His legs giving all they had to run after the train.
His palms on the boiling hot machine. The vibrations of the engine against the sensitive skin of his hands.
His feet against the irregular ground with the rails, clinging on them like a child would cling on their old blanket.
The sweat rolling down his face, just like it rolled down that man’s face.
A spark.
Here we go.
The hoodie on his head.
What freedom felt like.
What being able to be a prodigy without being killed felt like.
A spark, and then a flame.
Then electric power that ran through his veins along with his blood.
Blinding. Powerful. Fearless.
His hands penetrating the train. Metal against metal.
His feet making holes in the ground.
The sound of the engine that refused to go off.
The wave of dread falling onto his shoulders like a rock the size of a planet.
A cry of war.
Exhaustion.
And…
Arms.
Trembling, insecure arms around him.
Around his body.
Around everything he was.
The familiar smell of mint and…home.
Him.
Him who deserved better.
Him that, for all Hugh cared, would not die tonight.
Another cry of war. His insides bursting into flames.
His legs, strong as ever, moving.
His arms, strong as ever, pushing.
A shrill, violent and turbulent riddle.
The smoke coming out from the engine.
The engine that, once and for all, had gone quiet.
Hugh felt his clothes against his damp body, breathing heavily, as he felt the still shaky, invisible hand over his shoulder.
“Y-you know…You know what Ace Anarchy said…” Simon’s weak and broken voice filled his ears. “If it’s going against you, break it.”
A tired, yet genuine chuckle escaped Hugh as he watched the monstrous, immobile vehicle in front of him.
“Sure as fuck he didn’t say that.”
“But that’s what he did.”
The smoke started to drift apart from his vision, and he felt…peaceful, almost numb.
He was already thinking about another stupid joke that would’ve easily gotten both of them killed, when he heard someone clearing their throat.
His head followed the direction of the sound and, even if he couldn’t see Simon, he figured he had done that too.
Right there, on a bench inside the station, there was a girl. Dark skin, coily hair, huge dark eyes, dressed in shorts, tennis shoes and a blue skin-tight shirt one could’ve used to practice gymnastics.
She was young.
Very young.
From what Hugh could calculate, she was even younger than Kasumi.
“Hi.” Hugh greeted, still short of breath.
“Hello.” The kid tilted her head to the side, shifting her legs into a butterfly position.
Needless to say, Hugh was already creeped out by her.
He wasn’t one to believe in ghosts or specters, but just by this brief interaction, he was starting to think she was a wandering soul of the subway tunnels.
“Is there…uhm…” Hugh coughed. “Do you need help? Are you injured?”
“No. Not injured.” She said. For a voice so childish, she sounded strangely mature. “I do, however, have a question.”
Hugh blinked. Confused.
“Go ahead, then.” He answered anyway.
Why the fuck was she so calm?
“Thank you.” She cracked her knuckles against her chin, and then went ahead.
“Have you ever listened to the sound of a cork?”
A cork.
Those things fancy and expensive beverages came with instead of a metal or plastic cap. He knew what a cork looked what because he wasn’t stupid, nor did he live beneath a rock.
But he was sure as fuck he had never owned any bottle that came with a cork.
“Uhm…no?”
“It’s this one. “
Staring directly into his eyes, the kid clicked her tongue.
It caused a loud sound.
Almost obnoxiously loud, he dared to say, due to the echoes.
However, Hugh was just starting to think about how to phrase the question “What the fuck has gotten into your head?” in a family-friendly way, when he heard Simon gasp.
He felt his nails in his skin, through the fabric of his hoodie, and it didn’t take Hugh much more to understand Simon was telling him it was time to run.
So they ran as fast as they could, towards the next tunnel, where they both fell to the ground, Hugh covering Simon’s body with his’.
Just in the moment the smell of smoke filled the air.
Just in the moment the deafening “Boom!” echoed in their surroundings, resonating above the deathly and panicking screams of those who were still inside the wagon.
Just in the moment the train exploded right in front of their eyes.
-.-
A very distraught Georgie was waiting for them at the door when they got home. By bus, because walking ended up not being appetizing at all after all that madness.
Simon tried to hand the strawberry milk to her (which surprisingly was still in a pretty good condition) and she accepted it, but she proceeded to hug them as tight as she could, telling them how glad she was they were okay, actions that were repeated by Kasumi and Tamaya (Yes. Tamaya too).
And, again, that was another thing that shouldn’t have surprised Hugh, because the news were everywhere already.
An attack to a train. Dangerous prodigies. Heroic Anarchists.
And no.
By “heroic Anarchists”, they didn’t mean them. Simon and Hugh.
They meant the kid.
A trap.
Of course, that’s all it was.
Hugh covered his eyes in frustration, as Georgie rubbed his back in a soft, motherly way.
“You’re doing your best, darling.” She told him, grabbing his hand with the one she had free. “We all are.”
Hugh stared at the TV. At the horrid images of the subway tunnels and the body count.
Yes, they were doing their best.
All those rumors about a kid that helped control floods; about The Thunderbird that apparently wasn’t as bad as everyone thought and helped poor communities with all she could; about a flying lady that had stopped many robberies and murders from happening; about the prodigy without a body; about the prodigy with super strength.
That’s what everyone thought.
Poor kids, they thought. They’re doing their best.
“…It’s not enough.” Hugh groaned, sniffing. “Sometimes the best is not enough.”
Simon, who was sitting on the carpet next to Kasumi, directed a reassuring smile towards him.
Tired, yet hopeful.
“Perhaps someday it will be.”
Perhaps.
But not today.
-.-
She was standing, firmly, in the middle of the room, her hands laced behind her back, as she heard the shoes walking from one way to another.
Then Ace Anarchy stopped, with a proud grim lighting up his face.
“I must admit I am impressed by your skills.” He said. “The way the situation was handled was outstanding. Flawless. In these type of circumstances, a person must come up with an immediate alternative. One must develop ability to think fast…something you evidently have.”
He chuckled.
“Of course. You are strong, yet you are so young, like your parents. We will be thrilled to have you joining us, Ingrid Thompson.”
Ingrid already knew that. She knew she had succeeded.
But still, when she heard those words being said out loud, she couldn’t help but feel proud.
“Detonator.” She corrected, sure of herself, confident and, once again, validated by Ace Anarchy, who responded with a smile and a solemn bow.
If it’s going against you, break it.
Excellent advice.