Chum

I have absolutely zero control over the animal noise that escapes me. I don’t even know how to describe it other than screaming my throat raw and ragged, over the sound of police sirens, over whatever it is that Safeguard has to say, louder and sharper than any noise I have made before in my life. It comes from a pit deep in my torso, where all the fear lives, my bloody hand smearing against the urinal as I try to hold myself against the rapidly compressing walls. The edges of my vision go red and blurry and I feel my heart beating into my ears. I feel my teeth trying to escape my mouth. I feel the kind of desperation that a rabbit in a bear trap might feel, ready to gnaw their foot to a stump just to get out.

But I can’t reach my foot to gnaw it off, and it wouldn’t help me, so I do the next best thing.

I don’t have a lot of arm room horizontally, but I do have room in front of me, so my arms start slamming against the wall of the bathroom stall. Blood flicks out from my cut-open fingertip in tiny droplets and streaks, and I rattle the cheap bolts and screws holding everything together as the undersides of my fist make contact again and again. Bam! Bam! Bam! My shoulders begin to ache and I feel the muscles in my arms tearing as I put so much more force into these slams than I have into any other physical activity in my life. I feel completely out of my own body, watching as a passive observer as I begin climbing up the sinks and urinals, now pressed together close enough to form a foothold, and gaze down at Safeguard with wild, panicked eyes. My hands grab the top of the bathroom stall wall.

I bite down. It resists me, so I bite down harder until I feel a tooth crack, a searing pain jumping through the nerves in my mouth, and a chunk of the urinal stall wall comes out with it. I spit it out onto Safeguard and scream louder than I have in any argument before in my life. “LET ME OUT!“

Blood leaks from my gums where the cracked tooth falls out, and Safeguard scampers back to the corner of the bathroom stall, trying to get away from me. But they’re trapped just like I am, even as I feel the ceiling pressing down on me. It doesn’t crush me. It’s a store – the ceiling panels aren’t hard stone or brick. I start clawing and shaking the bathroom stall, and my back pops out one of the ceiling panels, and everything rushes back out, returning the bathroom to its normal size. Suddenly, I am without a foothold, and I pull myself over into the bathroom stall with the person that my body is telling me is my most hated enemy in the world.

I would like to take this time to say something cool, or maybe tell them to run, or maybe even use the rope I had spent some time painstakingly gathering. Maybe do something badass and intimidating. I open my mouth and the only thing that comes out is a deep, bone-shaking howl. I step on their ankle. They shake me off of them and stumble backwards through the bathroom stall door – I guess they left it unlocked. I slam my bloody hand against the inside of the stall and stumble out after them, trying to regain my footing through the overwhelming waves of nausea and fright pulsing through me, spreading through me from my stomach to my head and toes. I don’t realize that all this slamming about has widened what was originally a small slice slash puncture wound on my finger into a somewhat larger cut, but now that I have, I wave it away. That’s what I have gloves for: to soak it up.

I hear and sense their footsteps, over to the stocking room in the back, the desperate jingling of keys. Either they filched them from an employee, which is unlikely, or they are an employee, which is pathetic in its own unique way. It doesn’t take long though before they’re out of my radius where I can no longer smell them, and they locked the way to the employee stock room from the other side, so I can’t follow them anyway. I take solace in a worried looking Gale peeking her way around the T-hallway while I slowly walk out, the adrenaline suddenly leaving my body in one exhausting flush, causing all the pain to begin re-appearing where it was hidden by rage and desperation.

“Are you okay?” Gale asks, reaching forward to grab me as I try not to pitch forward. I have blacked out enough in the past three months to feel it coming, and this time, I fight it, resisting with every ounce that I have in my scrawny little body. I raise my makeshift rope as a display of unsuccess, before letting my arms drop down. Gale hooks an arm under my shoulders, throwing my arm around hers, and buoys us with a cushion of wind. “That was… quite a scream. Do you need medical attention? There’s an EMS outside.”

“I’m good. Bit my own finger so I could get blood on them to track them. They got away out the back. They have keys, so I’m guessing they’re an employee, and the reason they popped up late was because they were getting changed into their costume. Is Mudslide taken care of?” I wheeze hoarsely. My body feels full of exhaustion and soreness but the part that’s holding onto Gale is warm and full of electricity. I don’t like either of the two sensations. “I’m more worried about the actual person we came here for.”

“You are talking way too much for someone who just screamed like that. Breathe. I’ll get you some water,” Gale responds, gently lifting the both of us about an inch off the ground. “Just let your weight go slack, I’ll hold you up.”

I do as she asks and feel immediately better, no longer needing to support my body weight against gravity. Plus, being surrounded by these small twisters is almost like air conditioning, wicking the sweat out from the inside of my costume and helping me rapidly cool down. I absentmindedly suck on my finger, noting with curiosity that my gums appear to have stopped bleeding, but not before creating ugly red streaks across my lips and chin. “Mudslide is taken care of, he’s not going to try anything with guns trained on him. In a couple of weeks you’ll probably be called in to testify, unless he accepts a plea deal. Did Safeguard hurt you? Steal anything?”

I shake my head. “Nothing major. No stealing.”

“I didn’t ask if they hurt you majorly, I asked if they hurt you,” she answers, and I feel bad immediately.

“No,” I lie. In truth, I probably did more damage to myself than Safeguard managed to do, but my leg and lower torso are still feeling the effects of being stepped on. I don’t want to make her worry – or really, anyone worry. If my parents asked, I just cut my finger on some glass. My tooth will grow back fast enough. “They’re not in good shape. Was just screaming because they closed the bathroom walls on me. Didn’t like that,” I explain, trying to conserve my breath. Every passing second makes my body more fatigued, as it returns to its natural resting state.

Gale floats me to the front of the Walgreens, gently past the automatic doors. Outside, the sun high overhead, are three police cars and a single ambulance, with the police taking statements from the ex-hostages, the medics taking care of the one with a bloody nose. She laughs nervously, mostly to herself, I think, before putting me behind the ambulance. “Well, that was, uh, an exciting first day, wasn’t it? Hello, Mr. Medic! My sister-in-arms here might need a little checkup, there was another villain in the building that she took care of.”

I wave them off, still catching my breath, speaking between huffs and puffs. “Hi. Bloodhound. New to this. I can smell injuries. I’m fine. No insurance anyway.”

Gale and the medic, a very tall man with short brown hair and light skin, share a weird sort of look with each other. He says presumably what the two of them are thinking. “Ma’am, as long as you have a LUMA and are working as a Registered Superhuman Entity, you have healthcare, I’m pretty sure. No worries.”

I wave him off again. “I don’t think. I’m registered. Yet. Don’t worry ’bout it. I’m fine. Promise.”

Really, I just don’t want any insurance billing to go to my parents. They can reassure me all they want, but I don’t really trust the American healthcare system, and I don’t want my parents to panic about me getting in a fight my first day on patrol. The medic shrugs at me while Gale summons over a police officer, a tall black lady with a crew cut. What is it with authority figures and being tall today?

“I heard from Gale there was another perp in the store. What can you tell us?” she asks, squatting down and putting her elbow on her knees to get to eye level while I just rest on the open back of the ambulance, head leaning into the side. My eyes probably look crazy right now, glassy and hazy and a little unfocused, my fingers continuing to clench and unclench.

“Probably an employee. They had keys. Called themselves “Safeguard”. They can make space bigger and smaller… it’s hard to explain. Like folding and unfolding a piece of paper.” I start, embiggening my sentences but still taking time to breathe and talk slowly. “Extremely conceited. They didn’t have anything to do with the initial robbery, but I think they’re new. They mentioned wanting to test their powers. Do experiments. Scrawny. Not very strong. Used a voice changer. Uh…”

I glance at Gale, who looks back at me. She finishes my description. “Homemade costume, white helmet, full face covering, big black cape. The only things I could see besides that were big stompy boots,” she speaks for me.

“No body armor or anything, just clothes. I think they’re a kid. Probably m… hm… Fifteen? Sixteen? Either that or a really small adult. They, uh, they fled out the back.”

The police officer nods at the two of us. “We’ll note that down. Any stolen merchandise, loss of life, threats, assault?”

I crack a smile, a tooth already starting to grow back in the gap in the front of my mouth. “Does it count as assault if they barely hurt me, they just tried really hard?”

The officer looks at me and laughs. “Yeah. Think it does. I’ll make sure we keep an eye out for them, and, uh, good work you two. In the meanwhile.”

I smile at the police officer, and then Gale. Gale smiles weakly back at me. I open my mouth to ask; “Hey, is it cool if I pass out now?”

Gale muffles a laugh, which I take as permission. I gently lower myself backwards to avoid hitting my head, and then fall asleep.

The patrol didn’t end just from one incident, of course. I spent about half an hour napping while Gale handled the more important stuff with the police and the medics. When I woke up, I was sore and unsatisfied but otherwise not feeling too bad, except for the pretty nasty bruise I could feel developing on my hip. But that was a problem for future me – I wasn’t about to show any weakness in front of Gale, although she did insist on carrying me with her wind most of the rest of the patrol while I swept for blood and injuries.

I was certainly not going to complain about this, of course. Most of the time I hung off her shoulders while she lifted up the two of us a couple of inches off the ground. I kept my face as positive as I could, and we even stopped by a Dunkin Donuts for some napkins and water so I could wipe the dried, crusty blood from my lips. The rest of the patrol, thankfully, was without interesting incident. No robbers, superpowered or otherwise, accosted the citizens of… Northern Liberties and Fishtown. About halfway through the patrol, I felt comfortable enough to insist on walking again, and we handled the waterfront, mostly cleaning up trash.

Really, the bulk of the work was cleaning up trash. As with most things in this patrol, Gale handled most of it, because I didn’t have any powers that made me better at cleaning up trash except I guess biting it into smaller pieces, and I wasn’t planning on doing that. By the time we returned to the headquarters to debrief, the sun was starting to get low in the horizon. Not enough to make it nighttime, but low enough that long, stretched out shadows scraped across every surface and painted the headquarters in thick streaks of darkness.

“So, how was your first day out, newbie?” Playback asks, sitting the wrong way on a couch that’s been dragged into the locker room. I’ve already gotten dressed back in a more normal day outfit, throwing my costume in my locker, which has already been decorated by at least one or more people here in dog paraphernalia. Playback holds his beanie over his head as everyone else shuffles out of the bathroom, dressed in civilian clothes again – except for Puppeteer, who is still fully decked out.

“Boring. Unfulfilling. But comfortable, so I’m not worried about it,” I say, sitting down next to him, and then scooting an inch away.

“Heard you got into a fight. A villain fight,” he shoots back, letting his headphones rest on his neck.

“Yeah. We slapped each other like second graders and then they got away. I’m real annoyed about it,” I reply, shooting a glance at Gale, who looks back at me sheepishly.

“So I heard. Safeguard isn’t a name we’ve heard before.” Puppeteer says, gently swinging, doing acrobatics against a small hook in the ceiling with her threads. “I’m told that you did some impressive work. Likely would not have been able to apprehend Mudslide as cleanly without you smelling it out. Good job.”

“Is that one new, too?” Playback asks while people mill about behind us, getting purses and backpacks and other personal effects from their lockers.

“Yeah. Lot of new supes popping up. Summer is always a busy time for them,” Puppeteer answers. I look at her and she detects my question before I even ask it. “Lots of teens getting into stupid situations without supervision, heat makes people irritable… summer’s the busiest time for cape duties. Nothing statistically abnormal.”

I nod knowingly, trying to absorb this new information and trying to ignore the pain in my gut. I peek down at my hip, lifting up the waistband of my shorts to look at the impressively boot-shaped bruise that had been blooming, and then let my shorts snap back onto my skin with a tiny wince. “Alright, so, same time tomorrow?”

Puppeteer smiles at me. “If you want. This is more volunteer than day job. Once you become an adult, there’s an opportunity for money, but you come in on your own hours. We’ll get you a key card and you can come use the gym whenever. Just text the group chat if you have a burning desire for patrol, but if we need people in, one of us will text first. If Belle wants you in for training, we’ll let you know. Like, there’s a couple of mandatory things, but it’s sporadic – as you know.”

Playback rolls sideways on the couch until he’s sitting like a normal person. “Yeah, is pretty chill around here. Think about it as your home away from home, you dig?”

I lean back into the couch and stare at the ceiling. “Yeah. I guess. I’ll try to make sure I’m making time.”

“Good,” Puppeteer says, dropping down from the ceiling, landing on her toes. “If you all need me, I’ll be out again.”