Chapter Six - Capture

Emily couldn’t stop herself thinking. It was a problem she always had; when things got bad, she had to think of a way around the situation, or be forced to get pessimistic views of the future that would never turn to be true. She hated seeing those things, but she couldn’t help it, even if she thought that she was the one bringing them upon herself.

We’re too different for the world.

She was walking alongside Carl. They hadn’t spoken much about the situation since they had heard the teenagers talking. Emily was glad. She didn’t want him to say it again, that they were different. She feared it might not have just been her imagination.

“Emily?” She flicked her eyes up at him, still anxious. “How are we going to help that girl?” She closed her eyes, stopping on the spot. “She’s hurt those people… they’ll want to take her away. The authorities I mean, not…” He could see the fright in her eyes.

“She’s hurting people for the same reason we’re trying to help her,” Emily stated. “She wants to get people out of the cells… or at least get revenge. I’m not sure which sounds more appealing to be honest.” He gave a noncommittal grunt, obviously hoping she would continue. “You’re right though. We have to help her.” They were speaking in whispers, both almost afraid to say anything.

“Emily…” he muttered. Suddenly his eyes flashed open wide in shock. She let out a yelp of surprise and turned her attention in the direction he was looking. A white van had pulled up right beside them. In the front were two men in black suits, and between Emily and the van, were two more men, also in black suits. They wore wicked smiles beneath dark sunglasses and short bowler hats. They stood for fear, Emily felt it in her every fibre. “Get back…” Carl whispered to her. She made a slight movement and the men were upon them. One moved at an alarming speed, like a wild cat. He grabbed Carl by the neck and lifted him effortlessly into the air.

“Don’t even think about trying to escape. The girl won’t be so lucky,” he hissed. Emily was in a tight grip by the other man. A thick rope of light was slowly binding its way around her, constricting her like a snake. Her face went purple, she struggled to breath.

Carl…

“Let…” He couldn’t speak. The man was already pulling him into the van. Emily’s eyes filled with tears. She broke free from the ropes, simply passing through them, although it ached her to the bone. The man that had held onto her leapt into the van. Carl and Emily locked eyes until the doors shut between them.

“Carl!” she screamed. Her voice was lost in the solitude of the city. “Carl!” The van made off into the distance, leaving Emily alone… lost… afraid. A target for any nearby predators.

***

Ian paced in front of Brock judgementally. “You almost killed that little girl.” They were in his apartment, the lights on. It was a lonely place, Brock thought. Certainly not somewhere designed for company. “You lost control… and you almost…”

“It was an accident!” Brock snapped. Ian had been going through these phrases for the best part of an hour, always complaining about Brock’s lack of self control. Brock was red in the face from it, angry at Ian… angry at himself. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone… not anyone innocent anyway. He was insulting Emily.”

“Ah, the girl you mentioned,” Ian chuckled. “Just friends you say?” He laughed out loud. “If I even had a girl who I was ‘just friends’ with I’d be delighted. You won’t even take the chance at asking her out, would you?” He let out a sigh.

“Is that really important?” Ian shrugged. “Look, I want to help you. You were there to save someone right? Well I want to join you. Emily’s busy anyway, helping Carl…” Ian’s eyes widened at the mention of another man. “Yeah, so there’s your explanation.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ian said, trying to hide a laugh. He was finally happy to see someone who actually had friends. The poor guy couldn’t even get close to her. “You want to help, you can. But we have to find that guy first. He’s been… following me.” Brock stood up slowly; he’d been stuck in that chair for the duration of Ian’s ranting, and now that they were talking business he didn’t want to be uncomfortable. “He tried to attack me in the city, then he went for me when I was on the train. That was when…”

“You made a pancake out of his partner?”

Ian nodded slowly. “That same guy ruined my first date in years. I barely got away, but I lost a potential girlfriend.” Brock wanted to laugh, just to get even, but he couldn’t even muster a smile. They were the same. “He nearly killed people there… shaking the earth…”

Brock grabbed a hold of Ian’s shoulders. “He was at the diner! The one where we met Carl! He tried to take him. He knew he had gotten out of the cells.”

“So it’s agreed?” Brock cocked his head to one side. “These guys are after mutants. We’ll have to stop them.” Brock nodded. The hunt began.

***

They took the escapee!

Naomi was breathless. The man in white had taken the man from the cells away from Emily Quigley. He was leaving her open for her to attack. He was forcing her to play her hand, because otherwise those men would be back. And there was no way of telling what the drivers could do. There was no way of her even knowing she could beat either of the other two men.

So I have to take her. Now or never. But how can I? She’s so fragile. She’s just lost the one thing she cared about in the entire world. That’s almost as bad as being locked up in the cells!

She looked at Emily sitting there alone on the bench, tears rolling down her cheeks. Naomi couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She was alone… just like Naomi. Except Naomi had never had someone. She couldn’t miss what she never had. And Emily had only gotten together with the man from the cells. It was too much to take on at once.

She’s heartbroken… she felt powerless, despite what she can do… she lost him and she thinks it’s her fault…

She thought about what Emily would be doing that was so bad… running around with an escapee; another mutant at that. Naomi couldn’t understand what was so wrong.

We’re after the same thing! Horizon has to pay! So then… why am I supposed to hurt her?

She figured that since the men were probably from Horizon, they were trying to stop her. But from the looks of things, they had mutants fighting with them. And why hire a mutant to take down a mutant? Naomi couldn’t see the logic. Unless they figured that she was expendable… Emily Quigley could be dangerous. All Naomi knew was that she didn’t know how she could face taking down possibly the only person who could save the future… since clearly the man in white wasn’t trying to do that same thing. Taking out the lover of an escapee wouldn’t make much sense.

Foul play… Jesus give me strength.

***

The city was dark, save for the street lights. Ian preferred to go out at night to help people… he didn’t have a costume, and he needed to remain hidden. Darkness was an excellent cloak to wear in these situations. But Brock didn’t like the dark. He had spent his entire life avoiding it. He preferred it in the street lights, scanning the alleys for danger, eyes always open for the man in the black suit. Ian was scouring the city from the rooftops, soaring slowly and carefully over the alleys, a great strain placed on his powers. He was much heavier than a little girl.

Brock’s own misadventures were getting him down. This was two nights in a row they had spent looking for danger. He guessed that Ian had no idea what he was doing; that guilt drove him to try make up for crashing a train into someone. Brock silently thought the entire idea was stupid, but he just wanted to stay out of Emily and Carl’s way. He secretly cursed Ian for actually letting him do this; he cursed the man who decided trains need rails.

“Out hunting?” called a voice. It was sweet, disturbingly so. It echoed through the barren streets of the midnight city. And then it spoke again from a whoosh of wind. “For me, I suppose?” Brock’s eyes scanned the darkness… no sign of anything or anyone. But then, if it was who he suspected then he wouldn’t really be seen in the darkness. Black had a way of masking people. “I’m flattered. Truly I am. I didn’t realise I was that important.” The owner of the voice was suddenly leaning casually against a lamp post, sunglasses reflecting the ominous orange light from above. Those same glasses that remained frightfully empty at all times, hiding two violet eyes that screamed with pain.

“You again,” Brock hissed. He got ready for a fight, and surely enough, so did his supersonic rival. Hands that clenched into fists faster than an eye can blink. “What do you want?” He tried hiding his satisfaction in finding him so soon. He had been expecting another hour or so if he was to find him so soon. This worked to his advantage.

“I believed you’d be looking for me,” the man teased. “The psychic did intervene last time. Let’s finish this.” He was inches from Brock’s face within a second; Brock could only see his own nervous expression in the glasses. A quick jab hit him the stomach. Followed by several more. At last he sent a stream of fire shooting from his fingers. The man in black zipped backwards just in time. “That was close. But not close enough.” He was suddenly behind Brock, ready to strike. His fist hit a wall of heat. He panicked as he felt his brow furrow with frustration and sweat drip onto his glasses.

Brock began screaming; he wasn’t sure why. He felt his own skin burn, he felt his throat go dry. It hurt to breath, but he just kept screaming. Fire burst through his clothes, although miraculously they weren’t burnt. The fire spiralled all around him, a twister of brilliant light, scorching the Heavens with its fury. The streetlights burst apart under the strain of the ever increasing temperature.

The man in the black suit grew scared. He withdrew slightly, hiding in an alley. He could still feel his skin burn. He had to stop Brock before the fires drew attention to the fight. The last thing he needed was another person getting involved, friend or foe. He swallowed hard, then sped through the spiral of fire. He connected with Brock and tore him loose. The speed at which he moved protected his from the flames. His suit was still in perfect condition.

As Brock saw the man in black begin to flee, he sent a stream of fire along the ground. It poured like water down the road, scorching the rainwater that lay in puddles away into the air. The man in black leapt onto the path, narrowly avoiding the licking tongues of the fiery river. He scowled at Brock and sped away into the darkness. Brock smiled to himself as he walked away through the darkness. His head pained, but he didn’t care. He had beaten the man in black.

He opened the apartment door at Ian’s. There was single light on - a lamp by the couch. It lit up a piece of paper on the table. Brock cheerfully picked it up. He hoped it was Ian telling him that he had finally made up with his potential girlfriend. He was gravely mistaken.

"Your fire burned high and mighty tonight. It roared loudly. It’s no surprise you didn’t hear Mr Somer’s cries for help. How many friends is that you’ve let down now?"

Brock cursed himself and collapsed into the couch. He could only imagine what the note meant. He tried not to think about it. But it disturbed him even through his sleep. He saw Emily burn before his own hands, screaming.

***

Naomi followed Emily as she walked to her car. It was a simple registration number to remember. The car would be easy to follow. She had to deal with her, despite their goals. If she didn’t, neither would be able to stop Horizon.

I’m sorry Emily.

The red convertible sped off towards safety. Naomi would let her have this one day of tears. Then she would forget it all. All the pain… all the tears… and all the love.