So, this has been sitting on my hard drive for months now, but I finally decided to dust it off and give it another once-over.
I still didn't like it, but I don't know why. I guess I'll post it here and you guys can tell me what's wrong, because I sure can't tell.
Previous
Chapter 5
Avenger
Tuesday
April 12th, 2011
Taylor stood at the foot of her mother's grave, staring at the headstone that marked her final resting place. It was a simple granite piece, standing sentinel over the patch of freshly-turned dirt. On the front, inside a decorative design, was carved a name, dates, and a single phrase.
Annette Rose Hebert
1969-2011
She taught something precious to each of us.
"Taylor?" called a voice from nearby.
She ignored the summons for a moment, burning the sight of her mother's grave into her memory. The knowledge that her mother died shielding her, protecting her from the mistakes of those too careless with their power, would never leave her.
She would never forget.
"Taylor…" She felt a hand reach out and take hers, and she turned to see Emma watching her, unshed tears gathering in her eyes.
"I'm so sorry Taylor," said Emma, and she pulled her into a hug.
Taylor heard her sniffling, and hugged her best friend back. She knew Emma looked to Annette as an aunt, or even a second mother, and that she was hurting as well.
They separated, and Emma scrubbed the tears from her face. "I'm sorry, here I am crying all over you, when it must be so much worse for you."
Taylor brought a hand to her chest, where an old ring rested against her breast, held by a simple chain. It was a simple golden band, an heirloom from her grandmother, that Taylor's mother cherished.
Taylor's father had given it to her before the funeral, and she had been drawing strength from the metal with her newfound power.
She gave Emma a weak smile. "It's okay."
Emma gave her hand a squeeze, and led her away from the grave. "C'mon. Dad said you can stay with us for a while. Anne's staying at the dorms on campus, so you can use her room."
Taylor nodded, recalling the discussion she had with her father earlier. She had been hesitant to ask, but knew that if she stayed at home, she would never get the chance to go out she needed. She had brought up staying at the Barnes' for a little while, to take the time to get over the events of that day. Not to mention, staying out of his way while he dealt with insurance companies and the like.
Unsurprisingly, he had been uncertain, but after a bit of pleading, he had given in to her request. Privately, Taylor thought he had allowed her to stay away so he could rage against the situation in seclusion, without disturbing her.
They needed each other, but they still wanted space. A couple days at her best friends house was a perfect way to do so.
Regardless, he promised to come by or call every day, even if it was just a week.
They met the adults at the service road where their vehicles were parked. Alan and Zoe, Emma's parents, were talking quietly with Danny. Upon seeing the girls approach, they halted their discussion and greeted them both.
"All ready girls?" asked Zoe, smiling gently.
"Yeah Mom. We're good to go." Emma answered her mother with a glance in Taylor's direction, who nodded in agreement.
"I'll come see you tonight Taylor, okay?" said Danny, smiling sadly at his daughter.
Taylor relinquished Emma's hand, and stepped into a hug with her father. He was tense, and Taylor could tell he was feeling a lot of stress just by the way he hugged her back, tightly, as if she would disappear at any moment.
"I've still got that card, if you need it," he whispered in her ear before they parted.
Taylor gave a slight nod.
"Okay, I'll be there later to drop of a bag for you. Got your phone?"
Taylor patted her pocket, where her phone was currently resting. "Yeah. Love you Dad."
"Love you too honey." And with that, he left, getting into the car lent by one of his Dockworkers.
They were all quiet a moment, before Alan broke the silence. "Well. Let's head out then. You can stay in Anne's room while you're with us, she's living in the dorms at school for now."
Taylor smiled. "Thanks Mr. Barnes."
They left the cemetery behind.
-
The Barnes residence was in a nicer part of town, closer to Captain's Hill than the Docks. A quaint two-story home of brick and timber, it looked like something out of a storybook. Alan Barnes had done well for his family, and it showed.
Taylor, having settled in for the evening, was now laying on Emma's bed, her head in her best friend's lap. They had been reminiscing about Taylor's mother, and when she had finally let go of her power-induced calm, she had cried into Emma's chest as she held her.
"Thanks." Taylor sniffled, as Emma gently stroked her hair.
Emma smiled down at her. "No problem. You've always been there for me, the least I can do is let you snot all over me now."
Taylor laughed a little at that, and sat up, wiping the remaining tears away. She could always count on Emma to lift her spirits.
She raised a hand to her necklace, but stopped short of actually touching it. She was tempted to draw on its strength again, but she had been doing that too often as it was. Her hand dropped to her lap.
She knew her gaining powers was a huge deal, not something to be taken lightly. Emma was her best friend though, the one she told all her secrets to. If anyone was going to be let in on the secret, it would be her.
Taylor took a deep breath, calming herself, and turned to face Emma. "I have something important to tell you."
Hearing the seriousness in her tone, Emma gave her her full attention. "What is it?"
"I have powers." Taylor said, simply. No point in drawing it out.
Emma's reaction was, to put it mildly, enthusiastic. Taylor found herself bombarded with questions faster than she could reply. She had to silence her with a hand over her mouth before she was able to respond. "Yes, I really have powers, yes, I was the 'Independent' who helped Armsmaster, no I haven't picked a name, yes I'll be going out. Does that answer your questions?"
Emma blinked, and Taylor felt her friend's tongue slide across her palm. She withdrew her hand quickly, and wiped the saliva off on her jeans. Emma giggled. "Yeah, sorry 'bout the motormouth, but it's
so cool!"
Taylor nodded. "I suppose it is."
"Do you have plans for a costume yet?"
Taylor flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. "No. Not really. I kinda improvised on the fly the other day, but a hood and scarf aren't going to cut it, are they?"
Emma leaned over, and laid across Taylor's stomach. "Nah, you have to be
impressive!"
"Got any ideas then, miss model?" asked Taylor, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Emma lifted her head, and
grinned. "Oh, do I ever."
The next few hours were spent with Emma subjecting Taylor to countless plans, drawings, and grandiose ideas. They were up well into the night bandying back and forth on the merits of cloaks, the sex appeal (and lack thereof) of spandex, and the value of armor.
By the time Taylor began to fall asleep, far too comfortable to move to the other room, they had come up with several different themes, ranging from the practical ("How about body armor?") to the ludicrous ("No way Emma, I will not go skin-tight!").
Visions of capes and swords danced across her thoughts, and Taylor Hebert was quickly lost to dreams.
-
Friday, 11PM
April 15th, 2011
It had been almost a week since Taylor gained her powers, and after days of deliberation and planning, she was finally ready to take to the streets. The Barnes' were out to dinner with associates of Alan's, and had left the two of them to fend for themselves for the night. It was now or never.
Taylor was as prepared as she could be, at least until she got the reward for her previous captures. Emma, having jumped full-steam into helping her, had used her connections with the local shops to supply Taylor with some basic gear to wear on her patrols.
She looked herself over in the full-length mirror, checking the outfit for gaps or marks that could reveal her identity. It was a practical getup, consisting of black cargo pants, heavy boots, and a black turtle-neck. Long, black leather gloves, and the hooded jacket she wore in her first fight completed the ensemble.
They were in the basement, which had been renovated into a den with couches and a pool table. A bar was sequestered away in one corner, and Emma was currently pouring two drinks in celebration of Taylor's first official cape adventure.
"Dad will never notice," said Emma, as she carried the shot glasses over to where Taylor was standing. She passed one to Taylor, and kept the other for herself. Hesitantly, she raised the glass, and Taylor met it with her own, a soft 'clink' resonating from the glass.
"Cheers," said Taylor, and she downed the alcohol. Emma followed suit, and soon both were coughing at the burn caused by the scotch.
"W-what did you
pour?" asked Taylor, a hacking cough breaking up her words.
Emma, still coughing, wandered back over to the bar. She hefted a bottle, and read aloud, "Ar-Ardbeg… I dunno, something... Irish? I didn't think it'd be so strong."
Taylor set her glass down on the bar. "Well, I don't think I'll be trying that again."
She watched as Emma replaced the bottle, and washed out the glasses. She could feel the heat of the scotch spreading from her gut, and though she hadn't exactly enjoyed the drink, she could appreciate the feeling of warmth.
Taylor headed over to the stairs that led to the exterior doors. She would be out there, soon, hunting down those who were in part responsible for her mother's death. It was exciting, to think she'd be out in the streets, confronting criminals and the scum of the city, like the heroes she had so admired.
Emma joined her, giving her costume one last check before the night began. She wouldn't be joining her on the patrol, but with her laptop, a police scanner, and a set of long-distance walkies, she could provide support to Taylor from the safety of her basement.
"I still think you should use a helmet," said Emma for what must have been the fiftieth time that night, a note of worry in her voice. It had been something of a point of contention between the two of them, with Emma campaigning for the protection, while Taylor insisted it would only obscure her vision and limit her.
Emma had relented when Taylor reminded her that her power made her more durable than normal, and that a helmet would be redundant. Not that it seemed to make her worry any less, thought Taylor with exasperated affection.
"We've had this discussion Ems. It'd just get in the way."
"I know, I know…" Emma said, as she straightened Taylor's jacket for the third time. "I'm just worried. You'll be out there, battling the forces of evil, and I'll be sitting here doing diddly-squat."
Taylor took her hands in her own, and looked her best friend in the eye. Emma was biting her lip, and her brow was creased heavily with worry. "Ems. I'll be fine. I'm just going after some of the low-level dealers for info tonight, not battling Lung on the rooftops or something crazy like that. It'll be okay."
Emma continued to worry her lip, but nodded. "Okay… okay."
Taylor smiled in approval. "Now, I'm going to go out there and kick some butt. I'll need you to direct me when the police call in any reports, and let me know where to go."
Emma nodded once more, and Taylor let go of her hands. She pulled the ski-mask down over her face, and pulled the prescription goggles over her eyes. It had taken some doing, but an old pair of glasses had been sacrificed to make them. It would have to work.
She turned, and started up the stairway. She had only gone a couple steps when Emma's voice stopped her once again. "Wait!"
Taylor suppressed a sigh. It was late, and she would only get so many opportunities to go out. She turned back, and saw Emma standing there, holding a roll of red cloth.
"I, I figured this might bring you luck," she said, holding the bundle up to reveal the scarf Taylor's mother had given her the night of the accident. The night she had gotten her powers.
Taylor was very still for a moment. Then, she smiled under the mask. "Thanks Emma. That's a good idea."
Emma smiled, and stepped into reach. She brought the scarf over Taylor's head, and wrapped it around her neck, tossing the ends over her shoulders. Task finished, she gave Taylor a brief hug, and walked back over to where she had set up her laptop. She gave Taylor a mock salute, and said, "Good luck, Avenger!"
Taylor smirked under her mask. "Thanks."
With that, she left the basement and was off into the night.
-
"I've got reports of a skirmish between some Merchant pushers and ABB, on South and Greenwood." Emma's voice was calm and steady as she relayed the info. The earpiece connected to the radio was wired under her mask, and served to keep from alerting anyone nearby as to her presence.
"Got it, heading there now," replied Taylor. She was only a couple blocks from there, and it would take only a bare few minutes to traverse the distance. By the time she arrived, there should still be gangers present, she hoped.
It had been almost an hour since she set out for the night, but this had been the first report within a reasonable distance. Not for the first time, Taylor cursed her lack of flight. She was stronger and faster than normal when using her new power, but she was still limited to travelling on foot everywhere. This lead to a rather limited area of operation.
Still, as she bounded down the darkened street at olympic speeds, she couldn't help but thrill in the sheer freedom her reinforcement gave her. Coming to a T-intersection, Taylor shot past the turn and leapt, kicking off the opposing building front and used the momentum to propel herself down the street.
In a matter of minutes, she arrived at the location of the reported skirmish. It must have been a small incident, as now there was only a pair of Merchant dealers picking themselves out of a dumpster. They had clearly gotten the worst of the fight.
Silently, she slipped into a shadowed portion of the alley, and watched as the not-so-dynamic duo struggled out of the filthy bin.
"Those fuckin' slants are gonna pay, I swear to god Vin!" exclaimed one of the pushers, picking a rotting banana peel off his dingy overcoat.
His companion, a large, brutish-looking fellow, shook the remains of a trash bag off his leg. "Just let it go Paul. It ain't worth it."
The first one, Paul, brushed the remains of his impromptu dumpster-dive off, leaving the coat looking no less grungy. "Fuck you it ain't worth it, those motherfuckers took all my weed!"
The larger man, now identified as 'Vin', put a hand on Paul's shoulder. "Drop it man. Let's just go back to the flat, I've got some put away we can light up."
Paul shrugged out his counterpart's grip, but nodded his assent. "Yeah, sure I guess. This shit's still leaving me pretty salty though. God damn gook bastards."
Taylor took that as her cue.
Confidently, she stepped out of the shadows and into a pool of light. Her arrival went unnoticed, at least until she spoke, startling the Merchants. "Hold it right there."
They turned to look, and the shorter, Paul, spoke with a sneer. "Ey, who the fuck are you? You one of them ABB fuckers?"
Vin, clearly the brains as well as the brawn, backed up a step. "Hey Paul, I don't think I like the look of this."
Taylor reinforced his perception, by choosing that moment to dramatically extend her hand outwards, and project a Halberd. The weapon floated in place for a moment, and she grasped the shaft firmly, spinning the Projection in front of her in a fit of theatrics.
"Shit, he's a cape!" With that, they were sprinting down the alley away from her. Taylor shot after them, hot on their heels.
The alley was but one part of a series of back-street pathways, and soon they were deep within the maze created by the twists and turns of the decaying urban center. Chain link fences and plywood walls were no barrier to Taylor and her enhanced capabilities, but the drug merchants were more familiar with the rambling array of paths, and were soon pulling away from her.
Seeing her quarry about to get away, Taylor cursed and skidded to a stop. They were in a long straightaway, and the Merchants were nearing an intersection where they could once again pull ahead. Taylor shifted her grip on the Halberd, and set her feet to something resembling a javelineer's stance.
She sent a silent thanks to Armsmaster for practicing such an unlikely maneuver, cocked back her arm, and launched the Projection in a ballistic arc. It flew gracefully, and Taylor sprinted along after it, leaving cracks in the pavement from her pounding steps. Soon, the Halberd was descending and Taylor grinned in triumph, preparing for the capture.
The projectile came down with a thunderous '
crack', and embedded in the asphalt in front of the fleeing pushers. Panicked at the sudden obstruction, they abruptly stopped and searched around furiously for an alternate path. Hearing her approach, they turned to confront her, but before they could even react she was upon them and in a flurry of pin-point strikes they were on the ground, moaning in pain.
Quickly, Taylor pulled the zip-ties she had prepared on her belt out and had the dealers hogtied before they could even process what exactly happened. Taylor stood and brushed herself off, wiping away the dust and grime accumulated during the pursuit.
She stood over the trussed-up duo, and in a display of intimidation, effortlessly pulled the embedded Halberd from the ground. Feeling dramatic, she spun the weapon with a flourish, and leveled the end at their wide-eyed faces.
"I," she intoned solemnly, a smile unseen behind her mask, "have some question for you."
The resulting '
squeak' of fear from the smaller pusher was worth the chase, Taylor decided.
So, that's that. Avenger begins her first night out, rather sensibly too I'd say.
Questions, comments, accusations of incompetence?
