I sat in the back of the van, dreading the idea of removing my armor while also trying to figure out how to get out of here without being arrested.
Or worse, having to fight the police.
Or a hero.
My helmet rested on the bench across from me, looking almost judgmental in its silence.
"I really messed up this time," I said to it.
"What was I supposed to do differently?"
The stubborn piece of equipment had no useful answers.
Another set of headlights rolled past outside, cutting my conversation short.
Once they were gone, I finally started the process of getting out of the suit. Looking normal would probably help me more than keeping the ability to fight in a highly noticeable set of power armor.
Unfortunately, the suit had never been easy to get in or out of.
Today proved worse.
As I tried to push my way free, pain answered me immediately, raw, red-hot pain that stole my breath.
Stopping would only drag it out, so I clenched my teeth and forced myself through the ordeal.
Afterward, I had to sit down and wait for the waves of pain to pass.
The underlayer was burnt and melted in places.
That wasn't the worst part.
My skin underneath was blistered and angry red, mostly across my chest, but I could feel it on my back too.
My right hand had one massive blister across the top, the skin waxy and wet-looking.
And it hurt like hell.
"Mazel tov."
As I pushed the suit into the cubby I'd built into the floor for it, I felt like I was tearing skin with every movement.
Another vehicle drove by.
Another one, really?
The headlights washed through the van just enough for me to see the scorched marks across the armor.
I marveled at her unbelievable raw power.
I locked the cubby and forced myself upright, moving slowly to grab the first aid kit. I cracked it open.
A small roll of gauze. An almost empty tube of antiseptic gel. And a bit of garbage I'd apparently never bothered to throw out.
I sighed. "Not even a painkiller…"
I used what little was there, wrapping my hand as carefully as I could. Everything else would have to wait.
Last, I reached for my plain clothes. I was unpleasantly surprised by how much it hurt to drag fabric over the burns. It caught like it was made of tiny hooks. Even once it was on, the shirt kept sticking to my skin.
And somehow, I felt cold.
Finally, I eased myself into the driver's seat. Not much better off than before.
I stared out at the alley between the warehouses. At least three cars had rolled past now, probably police.
"Okay," I muttered. "Just need to get back…"
The urge to sleep washed over me, that mixed with anxious energy was a very odd, and unpleasant mix.
I sat there for a while, fidgeting the entire time despite how tired and sore I was.
I didn't know how to proceed. Maybe if I had a drone or something to scout ahead?
But I didn't. So I'd have to just go, and hope my awful luck finally gave me a break.
I turned the van on, kept the lights off, and rolled forward as slowly as I could.
From the driver's seat I could only see a little way down either direction, until I eased out of the building.
Nothing.
Flashing red and blue lights glowed back toward the steel plant, along with the angry orange haze that said the fire was still going strong.
I turned the other way and crept slowly away from the site.
If I could just reach the main road. Not far now, I should be able to blend into traffic and disappear.
Should.
With no way to check the way. I was left with one option, drive out and hold my breath.
By chance, good deed, or some cursed gift, I got out.
I drove away from the growing fire and turned onto a rough dirt path that cut through a small wooded stretch.
I was quickly reminded why no one takes vans off-roading. The track wasn't terrible, but I bounced and crunched my way along it all the same.
I had to be making a ton of noise. It felt like the entire city could hear my van banging and squeaking up that pitted dirt road.
I hadn't even considered it until I saw headlights starting to poke through the trees. It would make sense if the police had set up checkpoints, they knew I was here.
So what happens when I pull onto the road and have to explain why I was crawling out of the bush in the middle of the night?
I guess I was about to find out. Going back wasn't an option.
I pulled onto the street. One car zipped by, and though I couldn't see the driver, I imagined him looking at me with shock and understanding, as his taillights vanished around the bend.
I headed the other direction. It wasn't the direct route, but I was nervous that the driver would point me out if given the chance.
I didn't get far before running into a police checkpoint.
Well, at least I'm not always wrong.
I was last in a short line of cars. Two cruisers, lights idling, a pair of officers working each direction.
My heart started thumping in my ears. The closer I crept, the louder it got, and the cold vanished, replaced by a sticky, sweating heat.
I tried to force calm over myself as my turn approached.
Finally, far too soon it was my turn.
I rolled up where the young officer pointed. His older partner tapped on my window, and I rolled it down.
Cool air rushed in, carrying the thick smell of smoke.
"Evening, sir." The man sounded like he'd already worked a double. "Where are you coming from tonight?"
I hadn't thought of an excuse. All that time in line and my brain had produced exactly nothing.
I stared at him blankly, hunting for words.
"Uh… not the bar?"
The older officer gave a tired half-smile. "Well, I'd surely hope not." He glanced at the dark stretch of road. "Ain't a bar anywhere near here unless somebody built one since lunch."
The younger partner shifted to his right, hands resting on his belt.
"But I can smell the bar is where you weren't," the older cop went on, patient, almost conversational. "So try me again—where are you coming from?"
"I—" I blinked and rubbed my eyes. "Sorry. I'm just beat. Long day."
"Been a long one for all of us," he said. Not unkind. Just matter-of-fact.
"I was reinstalling a fuse box," I managed. "After some other idiot put it in wrong." I tried a smile that felt like cardboard. "Did the whole mess with a brand-new apprentice."
The older officer chuckled. "Oh Lord, green help'll age you ten years in an afternoon."
The younger one didn't smile. "Where was the job?"
"Most of this area's old factories," the older added, like he was helping me find the answer.
"Oh—uh." I waved vaguely behind me. "Residential over yonder."
He squinted that way. "Newhook?"
My heart jumped into my throat.
"Yeah—yeah, that sounds right." I pretended to reach behind my seat. "Might still have the order back here somewhere…"
As I patted blindly around the van I realized how thin the lie was. Of course I had nothing.
The younger officer leaned in a touch. "What happened to your hand?"
"Hmm?" I looked down. "Oh. This stupid thing." For a second I'd thought he meant the prosthetic.
"Caught it on some jagged metal while pulling the panel."
The older cop let out a huff of air. "My dad was an electrician. Came home with cuts all the time."
"Yeah, part of the territory with trade work. I probably taught the kid a few new words too." I forced a grin, silently praying they wouldn't ask to see it.
The older officer laughed. "Allen, I haven't done that to you yet, have I?"
The younger officer, Allen, finally cracked a faint smile. "With you it's more like a whole new dialect, sir."
Another pair of headlights rolled up behind me.
"Alright," the older officer said with a wave. "Get on home, try not to bleed on the upholstery."
I smiled, nodded, and eased the van forward.
As soon as I was clear, the panic drained out of me so fast I almost had to pull over to keep it together.
"Holy shit," I breathed, checking the mirrors. "I did it."
I drove a little until I could pull onto the well-lit highway. Power works here.
Finally feeling a little more secure, I turned the radio on. I wondered what was being said—if anything.
It would also be a nice distraction from the throbbing hot pain on my hand, chest and back.
"…the area is currently without power, and a fire has broken out in the old industrial block on Ravenport's east side."
I winced. That's not good.
"This is believed to have been caused by a battle between known criminals Electracoil and Grey Knight. Both were witnessed fighting in a substation at the epicenter of the fire."
I was distracted enough that I almost missed my exit.
"When emergency services arrived, they found Elatracoil dead. Grey Knight was seen later fleeing the scene. Police and FOH personnel are canvassing the area now, but the trail appears to have gone cold."
Some good news at least, I thought.
"The Ravenport Defenders are on scene and attempting to stop the growing fire before it spreads into nearby residential areas."
The realization that innocent people could be seriously hurt dropped into my stomach like lead.
"Tsunami is assisting firefighting efforts, while other heroes and police have begun evacuating the surrounding blocks."
"Shit…" I shook my head as I sat at a red light.
"When will this reign of terror end?" the broadcaster asked in a heavy, serious tone.
I pulled into my unit and just sat in the van.
I put my head on the wheel.
"Am I actually helping?"