Curtains parted and light stormed into the room rudely, interrupting her sleep with a sharp slap. She groaned as her father spoke to her harshly-"It's two in the afternoon, for crying out loud! Haven't you gotten enough sleep?!"-but ultimately her weariness ignored him and she hid back underneath the covers. He grunted and yanked them off, exposing his daughter once again to the brightness of another afternoon. "Look, Sally, we've already been through this," he said. "If you're going to be out capering at night, you have to realize that you're going to be tired. Now you came in around one or two at night, and you had your mother and I worried. Sleeping this late is just as inexcusable; now move." His daughter groaned in protest. "I don't wanna." "I'll have none of that. Move." He pushed her out of bed until she fell off the mattress, and would've crashed on the carpeted floor had not the gravity in the room suddenly lightened. She caught herself and floated to the bottom, like a babe in its cradle, but her father caught her before she could doze off again. "Into the shower with you," he barked, shoving her into the bathroom. "And if I don't hear water running in the next five minutes, I'm sending your mother in to make sure you wash up. Do I make myself clear?" "Mrrghnn," she mumbled. He closed the door on her and left, but not very far. Blearily, she reached inside the bathroom closet, pulled out a white towel, lumbered to the shower, twisted the knob, and crumbled to the floor. And began to snore. ...... Sally mutely waved the hair dryer around, staring at the wall as her mind emptied all its thoughts and reverted back to a primeval state of intelligence; that is, she slipped into an emotionless state of non-energy, moving only because her arms had been hard-wired to after so many years of waving said hair dryer around (her blonde hair was very long). Ah, the perks of being a late-night lurker. Stay up till' two in the morning, sleep till' two in the afternoon. Thank goodness she didn't have school, yet, although that would change soon. It would be difficult juggling a life, especially if it became necessary to find a job. There would only be time for sleep, school, and work. Whatever leisure time she could spare would be precious, and spent wisely. The blow-dryer stopped. She combed her hair, made sure it was curly for the most part, and collapsed on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Today just felt like a nothing day. Sally would've been extremely happy to lay there, watch TV or a movie, and let that be that, but it was the Seventh-Day Cleaning Extravaganza at her household, which meant that if she had any thought of staying with her parents, she'd have to pitch in and do the chores. Her body felt like the only chore worth doing was lifting the remote or at best, a spoon. A body at rest stays at rest. Ain't that the truth, she thought. "Sally, come on!" called her mother. "You've got work to do! Get dressed and help us out! A body in motion stays in motion!" Too bad her mother was right as well. Sally forced herself off the bed, dressed and all, and went downstairs. Chores were, well, a chore, but there was a plus side to it: it was a perfect time to try out her powers, to test herself, to see if she could improve her life as a superhero. G-Force's alter ego joined her parents. It was several hours before she was allowed to stop. After doing half the laundry, mowing the entire lawn, and vacuuming the floors all by herself, Sally was utterly exhausted and in need of rest. She poured a glass of water and reclined on a couch, but her parents were strict, and forced her up before she could even settle. She groaned, "But guys, I'm bushed!", but got no sympathy. "We do this sort of thing every day, Sal. It won't hurt you to work a little as well." "But I do work, as a superhero!" "You've only had one mission," reasoned her dad, "and that hardly counts as work, especially since you had a partner with you." "But dad..." "Your mother and I managed to balance out our lives pretty well when we were heroes; you can do the same." "Dad, I'm not as experienced as you," she barked. "Consider these chores your training," said her mother. "Mowing the lawn and vacuuming the floor will develop your muscles." "And what about the trash?" she asked bitterly. Her father gave her a smug grin. "You said you landed in a dumpster, right? Maybe this ought to teach you-" "OH, DAD, REALLY!!" Sally's cell phone rang before her parents could laugh for long. She excused herself and answered it. "Yes?" "Did I get you, G-Force?" It was Thunder-Claw. "Uhh, yeah, it's me. Hey, TC." She made Go-Away motions to her parents, and hid in her room to talk to him. "So I guess it was a good idea to let you have my cell number." "Yeah. Listen, something's come up, and I was wondering if you'd like to help me." "This is superhero business, right?" "Yeah, of course. There's a car chase and a shootout; which do you want?" "Uh, does it matter? I guess I'll take the car chase." "I thought you would. Meet me at Java the Hut in fifteen minutes." "Oh, I can't," she groaned, "I've got chores." Thunder-Claw sucked in air over the phone. "It's cool. Family obligations are important. The cops can catch that guy, I was just wondering..." "No, I can tell them. I need the training." "You sure?" "Ahuh. Just wait for me at...Java's?" "Yeah. You sure you'll be there?" "I'll do my best. See ya then." "Bye." Click. Sally tucked her phone away, walked out of her room, and searched for her parents. "Mom, dad?" she called. Her mother walked by her and smiled. "Oh, who was that, dear?" "Uh, yeah, about that..." ...... Stevenson McCray was already up and working, though it was a project even his grandfather had never finished. The old man had started it when he was a boy, and every year or so he went back, telling his wife that Today I'm going to finish it. But he grew old, and he grew responsibilities, and he grew a son from the garden of his wife, and the young boy resumed his father's works. Old man McCray, dad and grandpa, was getting slower and wiser with every year now; he supervised his son as he resumed his father's projects, One and Two. Now the second McCray was aging, and becoming less likely to finish what had begun, and was handing more and more work over to his own son, Stevenson. He had already given him total control over Project One (which had been perfected, and modified little since Grandpa's time), and was now becoming more of a supervisor for Project Two, as his own father was. Stevenson knew little of either, but he took them with care and gravity, and promised to continue the work until he fathered his own child, or he was finished. And at 21 years old, it was unlikely he would get either done anytime soon. Probably because he kept getting interrupted by Project One. "Steve! Son, police. They're wondering if they can count on you for backup!" Stevenson stopped working and called back to his father. "What is it, dad?" "Car chase," he replied. "And a shootout. Two different places. Uh, didn't you say that you just got a partner last night?" "Yeah," he called, and to himself he said, "I did. Wonder if she'd be interested in joining me. Hey dad?" "Yeah?" "I'm gonna go call her; put in a good word for us with the police." "Oh, so it's a girl, huh?" He smiled. "It's not like that, dad. I don't think it is." Stevenson reached out to pluck his cell phone, and reading off the piece of paper she had given him, dialed her number. It rang twice before she answered. "Yes?" "Did I get you, G-Force?" he asked. "Uhh, yeah, it's me. Hey, TC." In just a few moments, Stevenson McCray left his home as a different person. He drove to the meeting point and found his partner waiting for him. "You're late," said G-Force with a wave. "But that's okay. I'm glad you came at all." "You're glad? I was the one who called you!" "I guess neither one of us thought the other would show up," she said. "It's still an issue of trust between us, but I don't personally see you betraying me." "Oh, thanks." She grinned. "Come on, let's go. So what'd the police have to say exactly?" "We have a getaway chase not far from here," he said, "and a shootout somewhere else. A few people are already hurt, so we need to move quickly. The car's licensed as a white convertible, one hostage, three gun-wielding perps, and there's ten armed people at the other place." "I can take the car." "You sure? Your powers aren't that reliable; you said so yourself." "Now's a good time to practice," she said. G-Force gave him a smile and leaped into the air, bounding away like a flea. He whistled as he watched her become a smudge in the horizon, then remembered his place, and got into his car. He careened through streets, blaring his horn, and had to squeeze through several red and near-red lights to get to his destination, nearly causing other disasters. The car came to a halt not far from the scene of the action; he stepped out and charged up. "I hope you guys like to cook, because we're gonna be frying today!" Oh, God, can I get any cornier? Oh well, it sounds better than my first opening line. The shooters saw Thunder-Claw in the distance and put all their firepower in his direction. The blond hero raised his hands and erected a large electrical force field, zapping the bullets as they came. He thrust the field at the shooters, knocking several of them down. More blasted at him; he raised his fingers and shot bolts of lightning from the tips, striking the missiles down with blinding speed. Dazed, the shooters went into hiding as bigger guns were brought forth: two missile launchers came into view, scaring a few of the police back. "This might take more juice than I have," muttered Thunder-Claw to himself. He charged as much as he could, thrust his palm out, and sent a single serpent of white lightning into the air. It struck one of the machines and the man, blowing them both away in an impressive explosion-but the other missile was still active. It had already been fired, and that last shot had nearly drained him. Thunder-Claw clenched his teeth and thrust both palms out, digging deep into his reserves to pull out a last bolt of energy, barely stopping the missile. It exploded in midair, forcing him backwards under a rain of fire and debris. He rolled on the ground, barely conscious and burnt, but still alive enough to talk. "Too close for discomfort," he muttered. Life as a superhero was always one major injury after the other, but thank goodness for paramedics and faithful police force. ...... Meanwhile, G-Force still had not gotten used to her wild powers, and had injured herself several times just trying to get the hang of them. Sometimes she vaulted herself too high, or let herself down too quick, or did just the opposite and ended up gaining no ground (fortunately, she didn't crash into any dumpsters). She took a rest atop a streetlight and noticed, in the distance, a white convertible steering wildly out of control, with four people inside. Well, talk about luck, and this was no coincidence. Despite how her muscles and body ached, she flung herself into the air, as high as she could go, and floated down gently, gently, nearly hurling herself into the car since the hood was down. Nearly hurtling herself. She fell on the street and almost got run over. Quickly she leaped onto the car, jumped on its hood, and demanded the driver follow the crazed convertible. She hung on for dear life and winced as two of the three armed people in the car shot back at her. The poor driver had his windshield tattered with spidery pocks; his engine was ripped apart and the wheels soon deflated, but better a car than a person. G-Force continued screaming at him, urging him not to stop, but the car was losing ground. She apologized and quickly leaped to another, this time a truck. "The Hell!" screamed the driver. G-Force told him she was a hero, and to follow that car, and "somebody" would compensate him for the damages. When mentioning damages, of course, she waived the right to ride in the truck, and was forced to leap after it-but as they were taking a turn, she got an idea. The convertible was making a very sharp right turn, its wheels just lifting off the road, and here G-Force saw her opportunity. With a burst of energy, she lightened the field of gravity underneath the car, lifting it just so that it tumbled to its side, rolled, and came to a stop as it crashed into a large brick building. The four people inside cowered and screamed, but they were alive. Three of them would soon wish otherwise. She thrust all her power into crushing them underneath immense gravitational pressure, nearly smashing the seats beneath them. She roared for the hostage to leave, and it took no time for them to scramble out and yell for safety. G-Force now concentrated more on the car itself, smashing the engine under incredible weight, flattening the tires, breaking glass and steel, until the machine was virtually flat and its inhabitants scared out of their wits. They leaped out and prostrated themselves on the asphalt, weeping for mercy. Good thing too, because G-Force honestly had nothing left. ......... "She's with me!" shouted Thunder-Claw as he was reunited with his partner. The police had cornered her and arrested her on several accounts, mostly destruction of property, and would've hauled her off to jail had not the faithful Thunder-Claw intervened. The police from the shootout joined those from the chase, and after Thunder-Claw exchanging a few words and vouching for her well-being, the two heroes were freed and thanked. "She's with me," said Thunder-Claw again, panting for breath. He was covered in bandages and salve, but otherwise looked fine. "She's...my partner, G-Force. Don't...blame them...for their reaction, G. They've never...seen you...before. It's all right! She's with me, guys! You do good?" He leaned on his knees and looked up, appearing exhausted. "Yeah, but I wrecked a few cars and hurt those four people." Thunder-Claw wheezed. "It's...what happens...in this line...of work. Stuff gets...destroyed. I've never...heard of...a hero that didn't...have things...blow up." "Are you all right?" He nodded his head and recovered a little. "I got the wind knocked out of me and then some. I'll tell you about it later. I guess you recovered on your ride here?" She nodded as well. "My powers really redeemed themselves today. I did exactly what I wanted to do and got everything done pretty well. You should've seen the way I tipped that car over and totaled it." "I heard," he said with a smile. "I'll go down to the lot and have a look at it later. Right now, though...I could use a trip to the Ward." "Yeah, you look like it. So when am I gonna hear this story of yours?" Thunder-Claw stood up, winced, and nursed his shoulder as his teeth exposed themselves from pain. "Once I can walk without grimacing, which may be awhile. Hoo... That's the last time I try to stop a missile from five meters away-ouch." He chuckled, limped, and hissed at the same time; G-Force was just glad that her partner was safe. And that she had an excuse to ignore her chores. ......... That evening, Thunder-Claw and G-Force met again-this time in the thick of an open park, and without crime or criminals, or even any injuries. The Ward had done wonders to TC, since he looked like he had barely gotten scratched from the explosion earlier that day. They exchanged stories of their escapades, and became impressed at each other's abilities. G-Force had had to go all-out to win on her first day, but Thunder-Claw seemed like he had held back. Of course, that was a given, considering his power. "So how does it work?" she asked curiously. He smiled. "Ah, I still don't trust you one-hundred percent. Don't get me wrong, I like you and consider you a friend, but I've only known you for two days. Don't get offended, please; you're a really nice girl, I just can't..." "Tell me your secrets? No, I understand. Frankly I'm a little reserved myself." "We'll get used to each other," he assured her. "Oh, um, by the way, you may want to start wearing a mask. If I saw you without your uniform on, I'd recognize you pretty easily. I mean, how many blonde girls with blue skin can there be?" G-Force smiled humbly and admitted he was right. "I don't have anything of the sort, not like yours." She pointed at his red bandanna, his only mask. "Where might I get them? It's not like you can just walk into a store, say you're a hero, and shop around." "No, no. I got mine at home. Uh, I have a Kato mask if you don't mind using it. It'll complete your outfit." She smiled humbly again and accepted his offer. "You're a nice guy. I'm really glad I met you. I just wish I knew where other heroes were. I mean, not that you're great to be around, but I'd like to learn from somebody experienced, somebody who's been at it for a few years." He grinned slyly. "And I'm not?" "You told me you're still a newbie." "And you believed me?" She shook her head, frowning. "Not after what I heard today. You were like...a storm cloud." He nodded. "I really am inexperienced, but not as much as you. I only have a month's advantage, plus my father and grandfather taught me how to harness my powers. Did your parents ever do anything like that?" "No," she sighed, "they don't help me. They don't understand my power, nor even myself as a person. But that's parents for you." "Nnh, I know. My mom doesn't get me either. Dad has to explain everything to her. Boy, if I ever have a daughter..." "And what's wrong with girls?" she asked playfully, jabbing him. He laughed. "Nothing, nothing, I just don't think I'll identify with her that much." "But you identify with me." "On a few levels. Not all." She smiled at him and touched his hand. "For a guy I met a day ago, you're pretty good with me. Too bad everybody can't be as nice." "Please, stop." He hid his smile by ruffling through his short blond hair and sighing. The peace of the night and their intimate conversation was abruptly interrupted, however, by a scream coming from the far side of the park. The two heroes leaped to their feet in surprise. "What was that?!" "Trouble!" They raced off at once, desperately trying to find the origin of the scream, but darkness surrounded them. Thunder-Claw quickly lit up the area around them, and ran ahead with the torch. The scream got louder the faster they ran. "No, no!" it roared. "Mercy! Please! Mer-" Inexperienced as they were, they both recognized that sound at once. A death-rattle. "Oh no! Hurry!" G-Force and Thunder-Claw ran until they found the corpse, splayed on the grass with his throat cut wide open. Nobody else was around-but as they gawked in disgust and searched, they could see that there was indeed another figure with them, bathed in darkness beyond darkness, like a living shadow, looming and quiet. Thunder-Claw raised his torch and the shadow reeled. "Who are you?" he demanded. G-Force swallowed. "Or what are you?" Eerily, the shadow spoke. "The reason people are afraid of the dark." "Did you kill that man?" "You could say he killed himself. Or you could say the darkness killed him." "Who are you?" he demanded again. The shadow vanished, fleeing from the light be brandished, but left behind its message: "I'm a phantom; I'm not here. I didn't come to kill you, so you shouldn't ask." ---------- The day is saved, but for how long? Tune in next time when the mysterious shadow tells their side of the story! Just who is it, if it's anybody at all? Who was it after? Where did it go? All this and more in the next chapter, "Kagemusha". You won't want to miss it!
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