Guy sat in the back of an old U-haul truck that someone had connected the cab and bed on. It definitely wasn't the most comfortable ride he'd had, but the fact that it would keep the SWAT from chasing him down for the next few hours meant that he might be able to finally get some sleep. They had left the truckstop a few minutes ago after loading the truck with other "mutants" and their families, being careful to keep everyone in the area from seeing the people running out of the woods and climbing into the back of the vehicle. Guy closed his eyes to try and get some sleep, but was soon distracted by the sound of a door opening. One of the truckers walked through the people that were sitting or laying there and to the back door. "Ok," he said, addressing everyone there. "It's time to pay up. Hand over your valuables, cash, whatever, and I'll tell you if it's enough for you to stay onboard."

Most of the people there, several of them with children, started digging through their pockets, purses, or bags for anything that would be worth keeping them safe from the government. One desperate looking young woman, Guy guessed around 17 years old, even whispered something in the man's ear, which he nodded his head to. "I'll give you ten miles for that." he said and, though you could tell that she was ashamed and disappointed, she nodded as well, knowing that it was her only chance.

After he'd gathered what he could from the various people that "volunteered" to pay him, he addressed them again. "It seems some of you don't want to pay for the protection we've generously offered you. So here's how it's going to work. Either you pay up," He undid an interior bolt for the back door and swung the doors open. "Or you get off right now. Which will it be?"

"Geez, you sure are an asshole." said Guy. "If you don't want us in your truck, pull over and let us out. Threatening to kill us if we don't pay up isn't only wrong, it's stupid. We've got powers, you don't."

"What did you call me?" asked the 200 pound trucker, grabbing Guy by the front of the shirt and picking him up slightly. "I think we've got a volunteer."

"You mean asshole or stupid?" Guy responded, not backing down. "Personally I'm surprised you're offering to jump out first, though. Could just be the "stupid" though."

The trucker whistled and another buddy stepped into the back of the trunk, holding a shotgun. "You're right, how about you go first." the trucker said, and carried Guy over to the back of the truck. "You can either jump," he said, holding Guy near the edge, "Or I can wrap a tie-down strap around your neck and road-haul you. Which'll it be?"

Two Weeks Ago

Alessa splashed water on her face before staring into her reflection. She moved a long strand of raven black hair out of her line of vision and curved it behind her ear. She was already a target, being the daughter of two of the most notorious gangs in America, but was even more of a target now that her power had appeared. Her lip quivered and her eyes began to tear up, she quickly rubbed her eyes with her elbow though and stopped any tears from dripping down her pale face.

She tiptoed out of the bathroom and back to her room, putting on her jacket and picking up her bags. Lastly, she retrieved her revolver from its place in her desk drawer. She stuffed the gun into her inside jacket pocket, along with a few rounds of ammo in beside it. She crept through the dark halls of her house, taking one last stop in her parents' room before departing. They were sound asleep, Alessa's lip quivered once more. They weren't the best parents, and they had more than their fair share of arguments, but they loved, Alessa and she loved them, and that was all that mattered. She cautiously closed the door and made her way out of the house and into the cold nights breeze.

Present Day

Alessa sat in the back of the large truck, being tossed and bounced about as it travelled along the bumpy and largely unrepairable road. She kept her head down, hardly ever looking at anyone throughout the whole trip. Before she had left home she was a chatty, talkative young woman, but she had maintained that it was better to reveal as little as possible after leaving, made it harder for people to trace her back to her parents.

Her head turned to face the blinding light of the back door opening. She squinted to see a male figure barking out orders and demanding payment for the journey. Alessa's brow furrowed, the payment wasn't what she was annoyed about, it was the fact that she'd already paid for the journey that annoyed her. She watched as a girl around, Alessa's own age whispered something to the man, he nodded with some sick expression growing on his face. This only made, Alessa's expression all the more angry.

Suddenly, one of the passengers managed to grow some balls and stand up to the man, only to be met with the threat of violence by way of shotgun. Alessa closed her eyes. She shouldn't intervene, it wasn't her problem, just leave the guy to his fate. But that wasn't how she was raised. No matter how many people her parents extorted or beat up they always did it with some semblance of honour or good intention. She rose from her seat as the armed assailant turned to face, Guy. She reached into her pocket, sneaking behind the two men before lashing her arm out, revolver in hand and whipping the gunman across the back of the head, sending him tumbling to the ground unconscious. She pointed the gun to the other mans head, pulling the trigger down with her thumb.
"Let him go or I paint the inside of this van a new shade of red." She threatened, now gripping the gun with two hands rather than one.

---

Open waters. Switching back and forth between none and a people’s land. Little islands to claim, to make your own, to house your men and your efforts as they chase their lifeblood.

One old multi-layered platform, painted in grays and ambers, sitting near a small cluster of islands. Inside, on one of the lower layers, men in similarly colored fatigues and gear sit and wait. They chat, they punch each other’s shoulders, they laugh a bit. All while they wait.

“Boys!”

A voice rings off the pipes and grating. The soldiers, both sitting and leaning over the bars of the raised walkways, watch as their leader walks down through the aisle of folding chairs, pushing a narrow cart with a young man tied to it. Robbed of his hair, and most of his clothes, though otherwise unharmed. The man pushing him turns him around as he reaches the front of the aisle, pulling up onto a raised platform to look over his men. “Alright.” He calls out, “Show of hands, who’s confused?”

A few men raise their hands. Many don’t.

“A lot of you think I’ve been making very little sense lately.” The man announces, “That ol’ Franky’s lost his marbles or something. Talkin’ about folks on the mainland with uh… extraordinary abilities, remember that?” Some men chuckle and nod. The leader, Frank as he is known, pats the restrained man’s bare shoulder. “Adam Singer. American. Eighteen years old, just finished his senior year of high school. Taken from his home along the east coast. All in all, an ordinary young man.”

Frank draws his sidearm and walks towards one of his seated men. He ejects the magazine and shows it to the soldier. “See that?” He says, showing each man in the row. “Real bullets. No rubbers. Lethal.”

He returns to the poor man strapped to the dolly, who doesn’t appear to be completely conscious. Frank aims the pistol at his head and calls out, “Observe!”

He fires. Adam winces. But there is no wound, no blood, no mark. The bullet has bounced off Adam’s head and fallen to the floor below. “Impenetrable!” Frank calls out, firing a few more times at Adam’s chest. The shots ring off the metal of the platform, and all the men hear it loud and clear. Frank smiles as he holsters his sidearm and continues with his speech. “Extraordinary abilities. I wasn’t a believer at first either, like most of you. But I’ve been watching the last few days as the market has rung up orders for cunts like Adam here. Like fucking hotcakes, I’m not exaggerating. This kid is our first claim, and as we speak…” Frank pulls out what looks like a PDA, watching rows of numbers pass by. “We’ve got bids from a few let’s-not-talks going upwards of six-hundred-thousand. For one man, who can’t be killed through conventional means. Maybe they want to experiment on him. Maybe they want to use him for the most intense labor imaginable. But whatever it is, it doesn’t matter!”

Frank scans the crowd and calls out, “Reports, all over the states, are popping up through freelance scouting parties and public volunteer groups. Mostly kids, mostly on the run. It’s not just us who’re gonna be chasing them, oh no. Police, FBI, competitors in the trafficking market. It’s the gold rush of 1849, all over again boys! And we’re gonna strike the veins while they’re flowin’!”

The men cheer. Frank smiles, a fist raised in the air.

These men were always eager to jump into the fires of hell if it meant they could strike a fortune in the process. The risks be damned.

The operation has begun.

Removed.

Sunflower Group

Codename: Paddywhack
Codename: Dubious

---

Two men are riding through an inner-city neighborhood in a van bearing a fake electrician company logo. One goes by the codekname Paddywhack. The other, Dubious.

“I’m just saying, I’m still kinda unconvinced.” Paddywhack, the shorter and skinnier of the two riding in the passenger seat, remarked.

“So what? You honestly think this could be some kind of prank?” The larger man, Dubious, replied in a gruff voice. “Saint’s not one for jokes, you know that.”

“Fair point.” Paddywhack said, leaning forward to scan the road, watching the house numbers as they rolled by. “Still, I find it hard to believe this X-Men shit just popped up out of nowhere like, last week.”

“It’s odd. I’ll admit that much.”

“Odd doesn’t say enough but…” Paddywhack paused for a moment, “Just… everyone, even us, seems so… mellow about it. I mean this should be a worldwide phenomenon! News and shit around the clock! World war three should have kicked off like, yesterday!” He raised his hands and started making confused gestures. “I mean God damn, this is it! The great unifier that brings nations and armies together to combat a common enemy among the masses! Shit-kids with telekinesis and super strength, don’t you think we should be fightin’ ‘em instead of sellin’ ‘em to shut-ups?”

“You saying you don’t want to get paid?” Dubious replied.

“No, no, just…” Paddywhack shook his hands as he stopped to find the words, “It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, man. Still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“No time for wrapping.” Dubious replied, pointing at a gated property a bit further ahead. “That’s our stop.” Paddywhack lifted a pair of binoculars from his lap and gazed at the mailbox by the front white gate. “Yep, that’s… 178 Serval Street.” He put the binoculars away and brought up a communication device of some sort. “Saint, Saint, this is Paddywhack, me an’ Dubious have arrived at Serval, double-checkin’ the info’s good?”

> “It better be, or it’s Baba Daga’s ass. He sent all the qualifying reports to me about weird shit in the region, and if the trail of security cam footage and eyewitness reports are all right, then this sloppy cunt should be in his house right now.”

“Well we will certainly find out, Saint. About to execute retrieval momentarily.”

> "Good. Remember, reports said this kid can teleport. Hit him with tranqs the moment you see him.”

“Roger dodger, Saint.” Paddywhack replied, putting the communicator away and pulling out a pistol. He ejected the magazine, peering at the tranquilizer rounds inside. One or two would be enough to put down anyone. They just had to get the jump on the kid first. Paddywhack re-inserted the magazine and turned to Dubious. “Ready, big guy?” He asked.

“After you.”

day

Jack walked down the street not caring about anything, he was being hunted down for something that wasn't his fault, he woke up one day with the power to control darkness.A little while later he came across a vehicle with two soldiers guarding it, they walked up to jack.

you're gonna have to come with us.

Jack laughed"I may be 'different' but i still have human rights.I'll be on my way."

you're already on your way to a cell for your kind and you know damn well that your rights don't exist you freak!

Jack extended his right hand and manifested two shards composed of solid darkness

"You really wanna play this game?"

The soldier attempted to 'arrest' jack but he fired his shards of shadows at the men's hearts, leaving them bleeding to death on the ground

dusk

Jack sat down on a park bench, the time was 6:48.the sun was setting, jacks power would slightly grow at this time, should any of the government try to take him,they'd wanna wait for morning.

Sunflower Group

Codename: Paddywhack
Codename: Dubious

---

Knock on the door. Unkempt man in a white shirt, flannel jacket, and dirty jeans opens it. He looks at the two work-dressed men in front of him and asks, “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, we’re with Duncan’s Electrical Repairs.” Paddywhack replied, “We got a call about a power outage here?”

“Not from me, no.” The man replied.

“Well do you mind if we come in anyway? Might be a wiring issue here could be causing trouble for someone else.” Paddywhack stated with the best smile he could fake.

“That sounds like bullshit.” The man said, unamused.

Paddywhack turned to Dubious and shook his head. The big man walked up to the owner of the house and shoved a cloth against his nose and mouth, holding the back of his head. The man struggled for a moment before the chlorine overwhelmed his senses. Dubious gently laid the man down on the carpet flooring and set him aside the wall of the living room. Paddywhack drew his pistol as he made his way inside, slowly checking the rooms of the first floor. Dubious shut the front door and then slowly approached the stairs, Paddywhack following closely behind. They positioned themselves in front of two doors along the hallway. Paddywhack counted with his fingers, and at three, they both kicked down their respective doors.

Paddywhack’s door led into a typical grunge kid’s room. Lying on the bed was the target. Greasy kid with black hair, a hoodie, some piercings, you get the deal. He was listening to music as he looked up, with no time to react as Paddywhack shot him in the chest with a tranquilizer dart. As the shock kicked in however, the kid jumped from his bed and vanished into thin air. The second tranquilizer dart that Paddywhack fired went into the pillow. He ran over and grabbed it, then backed out of the room.

“Dubious?” He called out.

No answer. Paddywhack rushed over to the other room. Dubious was standing before it. This one was much less grunge with toys and dolls scattered around. “There was a little girl here.” Dubious said lowly, “I got her with a tracker but someone… just, appeared, grabbed her, and they both vanished.”

“Well I got the other one with a tranq, so neither of them are getting far.” He brushed past Dubious and rushed down the stairs, calling out, “C’mon, we ride!” Dubious followed suit, pulling out a tracking radar, paying attention to the signals. The tranquilizer was certainly working, the jumps were getting shorter and less frequent.

The hunt was on.

The trucker looked at the girl with the gun. There was only six feet between them, much too short of a distance to use a ranged weapon in. "Sure," he said, "Really poor choice of words, though." The trucker released Guy, dropping him out the back of the door, and jumped at the girl, reaching for the gun. At this distance she'd have next to no time to react to him. He briefly wondered if she had super speed or reflexes, but it was too late to stop now.

---

Guy managed to grab onto the tie-down strap so that he didn't hit the road, but his feet were only a few inches from the road. Squeezing the strap even tighter with his left hand, he pointed his right towards the ground and shot out a Repulsion beam, throwing himself back into the truck. "Yeah, I gotta go with Asshole on this." he said, panting slightly. "really poor choice of words."

Alessa recoiled as the trucker lunged at her. Frankly, she was more shocked that her 'cool' line had failed. Her eye's quickly shifted to the open door leading to the drivers seat of the truck. She managed to dodge the truckers first swing and was wondering what kind of man tries to attack someone holding a gun at such close range. Alessa could easily blow his organs out through his back if need be. But it seemed the trucker had called her bluff.

The gun was only loaded with one bullet, and it was four chambers away from firing. Despite being the daughter of two gang lords, all Alessa had ever shot were paper targets. She'd killed a rabbit by accident once, and practically never left her room for the two weeks that followed out of shock and sadness. She was far from prepared to kill someone, especially in front of all of those people.

The trucker managed to shoulder barge, Alessa to the floor. He quickly got on top of her and readied a punch that was aimed straight for her nose. She stared into his eyes, her 'plan' would work. Calling it a plan was as generous as it got. If anything it was stage 1 of a plan that hadn't been reviewed yet and needed a lot of editing before it was put into action. Nevertheless, Alessa went through with it. She raised her head and it seemed to shrink, the rest of her body going with it in an action that took less than two seconds. She was sucked into the trucker's eye like some sort of Salvador Dali painting.

At the same time that she went into the truckers eye she came out of the rear-view mirror in the front of the truck. She had forgotten to account for the driver in her plan, for some strange reason thinking the truck was driving itself. What followed was quite the tussle, the driver attempting to balance his driving as well as subdue Alessa and Alessa trying to disrupt his driving as much as possible along with attempting to subdue the driver.

The truck swerved left and right for a few minutes as the 'fight' went on. It was lucky they were travelling on a rather desolate road, if the road had cars on it, then a crash was sure to ensue. Alessa foresaw the fight going on for much longer than she had hoped, and began to devise a plan in her head as she whacked the driver's arm, now fixed around her neck, with her gun. Her eyes darted to the window next to her. In a last ditch effort she threw the gun at said window. It was absorbed into the window and came flying out at the driver's nose, allowing for Alessa to begin her assault.

She sent a flurry of punches and kicks to the driver's head as the truck swerved and began to slow down until finally the door swung open and the driver fell out onto the embankment below. Alessa quickly assumed the position in the drivers seat. Her gun lay at her feet, but now was not the time to be dealing with the trucker, after all he was greatly outnumbered and if the group acted quick enough, then he wouldn't be able to arm himself with the shotgun.

The one problem with the situation was that, Alessa hadn't finished her driving lessons, and her driving was erratic to say the least. She was beginning to go at a much faster rate than was necessary and she was now drifting slowly to the right without realizing.

It was hot, really hot. A normal man would be sweating buckets in the rusty Volkswagon that Eric had stolen, but he didn't feel a thing, to him the heat was normal. Funny thing, before a couple weeks ago he would never had stolen anything, now he was forced to just to stay alive. Not only that now he goes out of his way not to be seen. Like driving down abandoned roads just to avoid highways. This one in particular was really bad. Cracks and potholes everywhere, he felt like he was dodging land mines in this old beat up car. At least there wasn't anyone else using this road. No need to worry about being seen.

Just like karma though a truck appeared in his rear view mirror. "Just my luck," Eric says to himself as he watched the truck. It was gaining on him and seemed to be turning slightly to the right. "The hell is this guy drunk?" He asked himself, now watching the truck more carefully. At least if it was a drunk driver he wouldn't have to worry about them seeing him clearly. Eric was sure his face was everywhere by now for what he had done to those FBI agents who had come to get him after his power had awakened. Which meant that anyone could make him out by his face alone.

That was a problem for another time as the truck was right on his ass. Eric was forced to swerve his car almost into the ditch as the truck barreled next to him. He blared his car's horn, trying to get the driver's attention. That's when Eric realized it was a young girl driving the truck and the door was wide open. "What the hell?" he exclaimed as he hit the brakes to let the truck pass him.

Then the really weird scene opened up. Not only was the truck's driver door open, but so was the container. Inside Eric could see allot of people fighting with what looked like two truckers. One had a shotgun. Eric's eyes narrowed as he stepped on the gas and chased after the truck. Absently taking the safety off of his 9mm pistol he had holstered to his right leg. This didn't look right and he couldn't ignore it.

A quick memory of the little girl being dragged from her family flashed in his mind's eye. Eric shook his head to clear it before blaring on the horn again. "HEEEEEYYY! STOP THE TRUCK!!!!!" Eric started yelling, as if the driver could hear him.

The truck from the beginning was a bad idea. Free transport for people with powers and their families? Like hell it was. Jason sat, tapping away at his phone and paying little to no attention to anyone around him. The truckstop was pretty far behind him, and really all that mattered was getting somewhere that MITA couldn't find him. Anything else was a bonus, if that. Sat there, constantly typing away Jason didn't hear the guy yelling for people to hand over their valuables, nor people standing up to give them away. If it weren't for the sudden outbreak of fighting nor the opening of the door and sudden flush of light Jason would have stayed ignorant. Except, things don't go that way very often for people with superpowers. Data manipulation - that was his power. Controlling the flow of data through electrical devices. If anything he was blessed to have an ability so suited to his line of work, or even more blessed to have a supercomputer in his phone.

A girl stood, waving a gun around just about after Jason had his attention redirected. If this girl seriously meant to shoot then thing could get ugly quickly, and not just for the terrorist-looking people. Then again there was a guy with a shotgun on the floor already, so maybe things didn't look so bad. Then the not KO'd guy lunged at the girl, giving him a perfect opportunity. After the girl vanished and the first guy seemed rather dazed, Jason got up and ran to the back where the shotgun was now laying. Grabbing it, he hauled it up and aimed at the first guy. What the fuck do I do now, then? he thought, slightly regretting his choice of getting involved. He held his finger slightly over the trigger, bracing ever so much for the massive recoil he would get from firing it. Truth was he had never even HELD a gun before, let alone fired one.
D-don't move, or this time you really will be all over this van." he exclaimed, trying to sound cool and missing the succeeding mark by about 100 miles. The look on his face was definitely not sincere, but it didn't need to be. He reached down with his left hand, pulling out his phone and typing in a string of complicated letters and numbers at very high speeds. he didn't need to alterations to his physical structure to beat the guy, but it was nice in case he lunged at Jason like the girl. In one lens of his glasses a little interface appeared, though only on the side with his eye. Hmm... 27, no powers, divorced. Gun licence, alcoholic. Two children, one dead. Names: Maria, David. he thought, using his altered glasses to read all about this guys life. Augmented Vision, he had called it; looking through digital imagery and then scanning it all across the web.
"Maria, aged 9, killed in an accident. Divorced, son David in foster care due to excessive drinking and mental instability following fight with wife." he repeated, trying to hit a nerve so he could exploit something of this guy.

Sunflower Group

Codename: Paddywhack
Codename: Dubious

---

Little girl was desperately attempting to wake her older brother up. He’d gotten them through some allies, over some rooftops, but the tranquilizer put him down not too long after it hit. They were holed up in an unmanned construction site. The girl didn’t even notice the two men who’d assaulted her home walking towards her. And she didn’t notice the tranquilizer dart fired into her neck. It only took a few moments for her to drop, and her consciousness to start fading.

“Woo!” Paddywhack called out, “Alright! Two for one special!”

“Just hurry and get them somewhere private. Before anyone shows up.” Dubious replied, scanning the area. Paddywhack was busy injecting a tracker into the male target as he replied, “Relax, just go get the van. I got this.” Dubious nodded, turned, and left for the vehicle. Paddywhack brought up his communicator.

“Saint, mission accomplished. Got a little bonus too.”

> “Good, good, now make sure you keep ‘em hooked up to the anesthetics. Don’t want them waking up at any point between there to here.”

“Will do Saint. Over and out.”

---

---

“Pilliarch reporting in, got my target hooked up and seaworthy. ETA seventeen-hundred hours. Over.”

“This is Mastodon! Me and Roach got ours, slight casualties, but oh well. On my way to relocation!”

“Bambetov reporting. Capture successful, two targets. Coming back to HQ soon.”

Frank stood and listened to the reports flood in, retrievers all over the coast picking up their marks and heading home to make bank. He counted the offers from several unnamed parties on his PDA, stacking up to a bigger profit for one afternoon than the Sunflower Group had experienced in almost a year. He leaned over the railing of the sea platform, listening to the waters below beat against the support columns. An adjutant approached him from one of the staircases, calling out, “Sir, holding cells are ready for the first arrivals.”

Frank chuckled a bit. “Good.” He replied, “Keep ‘em dozy. Drip feeds for sustenance only. Match up the records so we know who we can’t afford to let wake up.”

“Understood.”

The adjutant turned and left, leaving Frank to his devices. He began thinking about expansion of the Sunflower Group. With more profits coming in soon, they could do with some recruitment drives. He turned his head to the cluster of islands not too far from the platform. He thought for a moment…

Maybe there was a game to be played here.

Guy saw the new Mutant holding the gun, then watched as the man started reciting information about the trucker. "Here, let me help," said Guy pointing his palm at the trucker. He fired a blast from his hand and the man flew away from him and hit the front of the bed. "Hi, my name is Guy. I'd love to talk right now..." the truck swerved and he was force to brace himself against a wall, "but I've got to deal with a bad driver." He walked to the door at the front of the bed and grabbed the frame. "Brakes." he said to the girl behind the wheel. "Slow down slowly and pull over. That way I can take over the driving. I'm Guy by the way. Nice move back there, jumping into the cabin. Some kind of mirror transfer?"

Alesssa turned her head when she heard the trucker fly to the ground, accidentally swinging the truck left and slamming a few passengers against the wall of the truck. She glared at the man who ordered her to pull over and drove for a small bit yet before submitting and slowly braking into the side of the road.

She moved to the passenger seat and stared out of the window with her arms crossed. She contemplated giving the guy, if you'll pardon the pun, her name. Eventually she gave in, they were all in the same boat now and being uncooperative wouldn't help her in the least.
"I'm Alessa" she mumbled "I don't exactly know what my power is but it's got something to do with reflections." She spoke, her accent as prevalent as ever

The scene in the back of the truck was getting even more hectic. Now another man had jumped up and grabbed a shotgun, pointing it at the two truckers. Eric was still honking the horn on his car, trying to get someone's attention, but they all seemed oblivious to him. Then, out of nowhere, one of the truckers was blasted back by something. But what? The only thing Eric has saw was yet another man stand up next to the one with the shotgun. Put his hand out towards the trucker, and then the trucker was sent back. Eric didn't know for sure, but it seemed to be a truck full of powered humans. Just like himself, and if that's the case then he definitely couldn't just let this go on.

"HEY! COME ON! STOP!" Eric yelled out of his car window as he pulled up next to the driver's door again. His hand on the horn, hoping the girl would notice. Miraculously though another man climbed into the driver's compartment and the girl pulled over and stopped. Eric quickly followed up, pulling in front of the truck and getting out of his car. He ran up to the driver's door.

"Hey! Is everyone alright!? Need any help?" Eric asked as he came up to the truck. Looking up at the girl and the man in the driver's compartment. "I saw you swerving all over the place back there. Well that and the ridiculous mob fight going on in your back area. I'm Eric by the way," he added. His mind racing on what he could do. Whether this girl was a victim or part of what he saw in the back. If so what he would have to do if they reacted violently to him. He hoped it wouldn't come to that, and that they would let him help them.

After having hitchhiked for quite a ways Edith managed to make it out this far. Turns out when someone tries to take advantage of you they don't take well to being punched in the face several times. While she kept her powers under wraps now she was stuck walking down the road with very little but the clothes on her back and a pack over her shoulder. Not that she was without resources. Being retired she had a decent savings. However she had to take it out of the bank which meant holding it on her person. They probably assumed that it was stolen by some punk teen.

To be fair they weren't entirely wrong. She had pretty much stolen from her old self. Strange how that worked actually. Really though she was completely dumbfounded by the whole situation. What the hell was actually going on? There was rumor that there were others, despite the best efforts of damage control. Were people really that easy to fool with the whole terrorist angle? She was now a target without a proper identity.

At least now she had the strength and stamina to deal with the trek. Someone was bound to be down the road that would be willing to help her eventually. Off in the distance she heard a car horn going off several times. Road rage perhaps? Not many cars on the road at this hour so if someone was in the way they could just go around. On a brighter note it meant she could have a ride very soon.

@Demon GraveWhen the man came to the door Guy jumped out the passenger door and walked around the front of the truck. That way if the man tried anything he would be able to draw his fire away from the others. Maybe they could even catch him in a crossfire, though he doubted they would need to. "Hi, I'm Guy." he said, coming around the front of the truck. "Those three were trying to hurt us, so we had to stop them." He held up his hand towards the man and created a blue ball of energy in his palm. "You weren't thinking of doing something similar, were you?"
He didn't feel like fighting right now, but he couldn't let this man hurt them or even slow them down. If they hung around here too long, the government would likely find them, and then they'd be in real trouble.

Eric listened to the man as he spoke, glancing over at the back of the truck when he was told the truckers were trying to hurt them. He glared as if he could see the three men. Returning his attention to Guy he was a little shocked to see some sort of blue ball in his hand. "Whoa, peace friend. I'm not here to cause any harm. I just wanted to help," Eric quickly replied, putting his hands in the air to show he meant it. His eyes were locked on Guy's, his mind racing about if everyone on this truck was like him. If so, this could be very dangerous if not defused. "I'm like you," Eric added after taking a deep breath. "I have powers too. I can help."

Eric waited, his hands still in the air, to see what Guy's response would be. He hoped he wouldn't be asked to prove it. His flames terrified him, and simply calling them forth is enough to send him into a fit of fear.

@TheUnknowable