Today, I learned two horrific facts; I’ve never broken my arm before and it hurts when you do. I nearly passed out, looking as the tire rolled away, smeared with blood. I took one look at my arm and threw up onto the pavement instantly. I could see bone. White, broken shards of bone.
“I shall pick up this car,” said Tiny Tyrant, lifting a car in a way that ignored all laws of torque and stress. “And beat this plebeian to death!”
I learned that pulling myself out of the roughly me shaped indentation of the side of a car is also painful. Not as painful as being thrown into it with a flying tire, but still painful. Tiny Tyrant charged at me, swinging. I dodged the car as she suddenly lost her balance. I guess she couldn’t wield her car anymore due to my aura. The car landed, bouncing a little once it his the ground as Tiny Tyrant stumbled forwards, bringing her face into the rear end. I heard a satisfying clunk as she dented the car and fell over unconscious with a broken nose.
I took a second to get my strength and look around. Plasmic was tagged. Maxwell was out of the running. Servant and Tiny Tyrant were down. That leaves the person Event Horizon was chasing.
He ran over to where I was. I remembered that I had a stun baton, and Tiny Tyrant must have knocked it out of my hands when she threw the tire at me. He grabbed the Baton and turned to Event Horizon, shocking her stomach with a well timed strike. She fell down, clutching her stomach.
I slowly stumbled over to her, stumbling in my own pain. She was more hurt than Servant was when I struck him. Stun batons shouldn’t do that kind of damage.
“Hey, are you okay?” I managed to ask, the adrenaline in my body beginning to fade.
She was still shaking. I took a few steps closer and was floored with pain as an arc of electricity lashed out from Event Horizon and struck me.
I woke up in a stretcher an hour later, and got the jist of the result of the fight from Stacker. Apparently only Plasmic was arrested, as their leader – or what was closest to a leader for them – managed to free Servant and escape with Tiny Tyrant. I’ll be out of the running for a while, due to the fact my arm was nearly torn clean off. It wouldn’t be that much of a problem, but no healer can really help me due to the nature of my incontinence.
The medical bed in the NHN building was rather relaxing, with its dull, sterile colouring and the mind dulling droning coming from machines everywhere. But that peace was only before Derek came in with Maxine behind him. She still wore the goggles given to her.
“Hey Ryan,” he began, showing a basket of fruits and chocolates. “Maxine got this from the gift shop.”
“Thanks,” I said to the both of them.
Maxine had a somewhat smug look on her face. This’ll be terrible, I thought. She looked around and saw the television, and walked over for the remote laying on top of it.
“You should see the news,” she said turning the television on.
“Derek, get that damn thing off her!” I quickly roared.
Maxine giggled, holding the remote high above her as Derek jumped, trying to reach for the remote. He gave up quickly and shrugged.
“No use, just hope it isn’t as embarrassing as you think,” he joked, sitting on the bed.
The TV turned on. Oklahoma City News Network. OCNN, as it’s abbreviation was called. Breaking News blared up before a petite blonde presenter showed up.
“Footage of the recent skirmish between the National Heroes Network’s Oklahoma City junior group and the North Side Rioters has recently been released. Be advised; what you will see may shock you,” she said.
The screen cut to a clip of Tiny Tyrant tearing a tire off a car and throwing it, taken from a helicopter. All three of us flinched as it hit me with a crunch.
“Recent controversy has hit the Oklahoma Juniors Group as they have nearly doubled their active roster, inviting three new capes into their group,”
Footage of the mall. Me, Derek, Maxine and Micheal all huddled up. Ellen.
“Unperson, Latency, Beacon, Plural, Trauma and Blocker are the newest recorded Incontinent metahumans created by the string of attacks caused by the Hunting Party,”
Her statement floored me. Blocker? Trauma? What the fuck did Ellen do? I looked over and it floored Maxine a little too. She didn’t expect this to be our introduction into the world of metahumans, if you could call it that. It was more of a public condemnation.
The news piece continued.
“Nearly all of these young uncontrolled capes have joined the NHN. However, the public has shown disapproval,”
The screen cut to interviews, fast paced, they all nearly said the same thing.
“Why should we be allowing people like Biohazard run about!?” asked the fat man with glasses.
“I’m scared. Those people are scary. Not like Undertow and Vector,” the nervous girl spat out.
“It’s not much of a choice, ain’t it? Like, you got them and you got those mean dudes, right? I’d choose them though. They seem good,” endorsed the thin man with a beard.
“Their names creep me out, man. Unperson? Who the fuck names themselves after a book on fascism?” ranted another man. Derek choked on a chortle.
The screen turned back to the reporter.
“Critics say that these new capes could all be villainous citing the recent events where Trauma, AKA Ellen White killed her parents, and later escaped from NHN custody with the assistance of The Hunting Party. She was last seen in Malcolmtown, Missouri.”
The screen cut to Ellen. People where around Ellen. I knew them. Fractal. Druggie. Sacrifice. Pain uddenly shot through my broken arm and I screamed out. Maxine and Derek turned as I grabbed my cast with my free hand, holding it.
“I’ll get help, stay here,” said Maxine, running out the room.
Derek helped hold my cast in place before he flinched back, his palm covered in blood. We both took a second and figured out what happened; I broke my own arm in anger.