Chapter One
Summary found here

Undisclosed location on the Rocky Mountains

“You do know there’s a reason why my door was locked?” A woman’s voice heavy with irritation said from a nearby room.

Closing the door behind him, the man towering a few inches above six feet slowly looked around the spacious living room. Taking off his darkened sunglasses, the man slipped it into the inner pocket of suit as he walked towards the source of the voice. “I’m guessing it’s the same reason you're way up here in the middle of nowhere.” Reaching the first room that branched off the hallway, the man saw a woman in her early thirties sitting in a recliner in the library with a far-off gaze in her eyes.

“Yes and the same reason I had a security system in place that you and your men destroyed.” The woman said, still with an off distance stare.

“We wouldn’t have to do that Tia if you responded to us and don’t even give me the excuse that you didn’t receive our messages. We’ve seen you messing around with our files since we contacted you.” The man said as he walked towards the window and peaked through the blinds.

“Don’t worry, there’s nothing out there except for your support vehicle waiting at the front gate, like where you should be.” Tia said before closing her eyes. Opening her eyes again, she looked towards the man, giving her attention to him for the first time since he arrived. “Listen Carter, I’m not going back. We ended all this six years ago for a reason, why are you trying to get the team back together now?”

“I wouldn’t be here trying to gather the team if the situation wasn’t severe.” Carter said with a sigh.

“Why don’t you send Pearson and his team, they can handle it.” Tia said with a disgusted snort as she recollected past events.

“They haven’t been informed about what happened. Technically the Sierra Project is still decommissioned and who knows what issues will arise if Pearson got wind of this. The military is still not happy with everything that happened last time.”

“So let me get straight, you want the team to become rouge? What the hell are you thinking?” Raising her voice, a look of dismay was written on her face.

“You need to look at this.” Carter said as he handed the woman a file. “You haven’t seen this yet since it was kept in a handwritten format.”
A silence filled the room as Carter patiently waited as the woman read the report. “How long ago was this?”

“Yesterday. Someone stolen three of the ten remaining vials of the serum. However, the surveillance system is corrupted so we don’t know who has taken it nor do we know where the serum is now. You know as much as I do what one vial can do, I am concerned what events will unfold with three.”

“So let me get this right, you want to cover up this mess before it gets out of hand.” Tia asked handing the folder back.

“I want to stop this before something serious happens. Not only the States, but the world is not prepared to know about the Sierra Project. Not only can we not allow this information reach the general populace, we can’t have a bunch of people with abilities running around. Do you know chaos that would cause?”

“Not to mention what would happen if Cameron is behind all of this.” Tia said with a clenched fist. “Oh god, but this means I’m going to have to leave the mountains.”

“When’s the last time you’ve been in the city?” Carter asked. Although he wasn’t a person that was affected by the serum, he spent many years and understood the drawbacks that some of their powers caused.

“I think it was two, maybe three years ago when I visited Arron and Annie for the afternoon. It’s hard to focus when I’m bombarded by all the technology in the city. Out here, I’m able to grab and chose what I see.”

“Well, you better start practicing. We have work to do.”

~.~.~

New York City

A sigh escaped Jenna's lips as she stood holding tightly to the overhead strap above her. One things she didn't like about riding the bus on Saturday, especially during the afternoon was how crowded it got, especially with tourists and rowdy teenagers. After the disastrous taco night yesterday with her friends, Jenna was glad to be going out to eat later that night after spending the afternoon with her friends at the mall. Feeling her phone vibrate, Jenna pulled it out and checked the text that she received. It was her friend Emma wondering where she was. With a chuckle, Jenna released the overhead strap as she carefully kept her balance as she stood on the moving bus. Over the years she spent riding the public transportation, her balance as well as her confidence without holding the overhead strap grew to the point that she wasn’t afraid of falling over.

While she was busy typing away at her phone, she noticed that her balance was suddenly lost as the bus suddenly tried to stop. “Crap!” Jenna exclaimed as she quickly tried to grab the overhead strap but was too slow as the bus abruptly halted as it crashed into a FedEx delivery truck in front of the bus and slid forward on the floor. “Oh god.” Jenna muttered as she sat up. Her hands were bloodied from being scraped across the ground and she could feel a bruise waiting to form on her right leg due to someone accidently stepping her during the crash but overall, she was fine. Her phone was missing but that wasn’t her biggest concern at the moment.

“Are ya’ alright.” The bus driver said slowly getting up from his seat as he assessed the damage. She heard a few mumbles from a few of the passengers and a few had minor injuries but overall it appeared to her that there were no major issues.

~.~.~
Thirty minutes later
With a briefcase in one hand, a man in his late-fifties walked down the sidewalk. He could already feel his back start to tighten in protest due to the crash but he knew he couldn’t stop. He was already behind schedule due to the bus crash and since Cameron doesn’t carry a cell phone due to Tia, he couldn’t contact Cameron to say that he would be late. It was a challenge retrieving the vials and took a lot of preparation to make sure that the vials wouldn’t lead Mr. Carter to them but things seemed to be working out.

It didn’t take long before he arrived at a small park with a pond at the center of the park. It was a simple park without much to attract people to visit but it was perfect for them to use. “You’re late Dr. Wilson.” A man in his mid-thirties said looking at the scientist with a briefcase as he joined him on the bench in front of the pond.

“It was unintentional Cameron, the bus was in a wreck which caused a delay.” The scientist said as he handed the briefcase to the man. “However, I have the vials that we need.”

“Perfect. It amazes me that no one has done anything about the corruption caused by the Sierra Project. However, if things go according to plan, we will be able to fix things Wilson.” Relived that things were going smoothly, Cameron grabbed the briefcase and rested it on his lap bfore he opened it. The man’s look of relief quickly faded as he looked at the content and noticed that one of the vial was broken. “Wilson, do you know what happened here?” Cameron asked in a venomous tone as he tried to hold back his anger.

“H-how did that happen?” Dr. Wilson mumbled mostly to himself as he looked at the broken vial with confusion. “The only thing I can think of is that it broke in the crash.” He couldn’t believe what was happening. Their plans would be screwed up with civilians getting involved. “We need to find them quickly. The serum doesn’t show it’s affect until about four hours with a migraine followed by a flulike body ache four hours later due to the transformation. The first signs of their power appearing should occur twenty four hours after being introduced to the serum.” Glancing at his watch as he tried to remember exactly when the crash occurred, he quickly calculated when the first signs would show. “That means around seven they’ll start to have a headache and the body aches will start about eleven. It’s going to be hard to find them before three since many people will have aches and pains due to the crash.”

“We can’t delay. Carter is probably already trying to figure out what is happening. We have to stay ahead of him Wilson. We have to find the people that were on the bus.”

Sunday, 7:17 P.M.
Steve’s Comic Corner

”Ugh...” Ranae leaned over the counter, placing her hands on her head and closing her eyes. She had told the ambulance workers or whatever they were called that she was fine. Besides a few scratches and bruises and the embarrassment of stepping on a beautiful woman’s leg, she had been fine. Maybe it was the after-effect of the crash, but now she felt this sharp, crushing headache throbbing through her head that made it hard to think or concentrate. Ranae was trying her best to focus as Saturdays were always busier, even at night, but this damned headache ...

Suddenly she felt her shoulder being tapped, forcing her to open her eyes and feel the sting of the store's lights in her eyes. Her gaze turned to the would-be disturber to see it was the boss, a handsome if geeky looking young man with modern glasses. He always been a nice and understanding guy and didn’t hold the fact that she was a lesbian against her, which made Ranae respect him despite the city was starting to go down the drain lately. ”Hey... You know, don’t worry about your shift. Just go home and get some rest, okay? You can come back Monday.”

How could she really argue in her current state? Well, even if she could, she simply didn’t care to at this point and simply nodded. She felt a bit guilty for not replying verbally, but she just felt too much like shit to care right at this moment. The ironic thing though - she needed to catch the bus back home.

Sunday, 9:00 A.M.
Ranae’s Apartment

Beep! Beep! Beep! Her hand quickly fumbled for her phone as she slide her finger across the screen to shut the alarm off, breathing a sigh of relief as the room filled with silence again. She hated that alarm, but she had to consistently remind herself that it was one of those alarms that never failed to wake her up on time. She slowly slide up against the wall, sitting up and rubbing the sleep away from her eyes. Ranae hadn’t slept too well last night, though she began to realize she was feeling a whole lot better, which was a bit odd. The night before she was beginning to feel sick and cursed her luck seeing as today she needed to go to the dojo - but now whatever sickness she had experienced was all but completely gone.

’Should count my blessings,’ she thought to herself before a small furry animal jumped into her lap and started to purr. The cat instantly brought a smile to her lips and she started to pet the animal. “Hi kitty,” she greeted her companion in a happy tone, scratching behind Alixs’ ear. She leaned forward and placed a small kiss on the cat’s head before crawling out of bed and yawning. “Gonna be a long at training - didn’t sleep so well, Alixs.” Her eyes went down to the cat, whom only replied with big eyes and a loving ‘meow.’

Sunday, 3:30 P.M.
Himura Dojo

Ranae had found this little gem of a dojo about a year back. It was a small gym placed in between buildings and never got much attention, but unknowing to most people in New York city the instructor was a humble manthat was also an absolute master of mixed martial arts; Aki Himura. Though none of his students really knew a lot about him, he only took on students he believed to have a ’light’ in their hearts - people with morals and courage. Ranae had always been flattered to be one of only seven students under his direct mentor-ship and had surprised the older man herself by picking up his teachings so quickly.

Of course, she was no expert and really only budding into a skill level of journeymen, but she found a lot of techniques and exercises that she learned from paid tutors were flawed and clumsy - Aki taught her better ways of controlling her movements. Today was a test between him and her, to see if she was ready to setup into a journeyman’s skill level, as Aki used actual skill as opposed to the tried and true belt colors. He didn’t mean to glorify their accomplishments by material things but rather give them a real sense of where they stood as ever-learning students.

The other six sat on the sidelines below the main mat which was raised on a platform only meant for sparring and class. The two stood opposite of each other, bowing low as a sign of respect before shifting their feet and bodies into ready positions. ”Are you ready, Ranae-san?” While his teachings were often honest and unforgiving, Aki himself was a kind and understanding man that truly cared for his students.

“Hai, Sensai.” With that phase, they began to move and circle one another for a few moments before Aki did something unusual for him - he attacked first. Usually the older man was content on being on the defensive, often explaining that a true master didn’t use his power to bully but to protect loved ones, but there was purpose behind his actions. Often people you had to fight did not share the same ideals and would attack first. As he darted forward, sliding his foot forward as if he was going to kick her, she felt a little weird.

There was something in the way he moved, a shift in his body, the angle of his foot - Ranae was sure she would’ve caught that normally and blocked the incoming punch, but somehow she saw it much faster than she could before and snapped her eyes up before opening her palm and grabbing her master’s fist. Both of them instantly blinked in surprise as they stared at each other for a brief second.

’How the hell did I do that?’

Vida woke up form her comas like sleep with two purring cats on her back. One had the nerve to keep touching her face with it's paw over and over even though she had been swatting it. "I'm up!" she groaned and rolled over knocking the two cats off of her. It didn't really seem to bother them as her old cat, Co-co Bear, made his way to head butt her 'good morning'. Her younger cat Baby sat just out of hands reach meowing over and over again until Vida had to sit up and pet her. After the cats had both had enough she pressed her phone to see what time it was. Noon.. a whole hour before she had to be awake. "Great. I guess this means I have to play with you guys, right?"

She threw the covers off of herself and looked down to her ruffled clothes. She groaned again and took a wiff of what she was wearing. "Gross" She stated as she peeled off the layers and made her way to the bathroom, of course followed by her loveable minions. After her shower and a game of shoot the cat with a water gun she got out of the shower. Making her way around the mess of an apartment she picked up random articles of clothing and sniffed them to see which ones were clean enough to be worn. Picking out a pair of jeans and a shirt that had a small stain at the bottom she put them on. No one really cared what she looked like. She was going to wear a uniform later any way. Feeding herself and her cats she left her apartment for her shift at the restaurant. "I guess this means I have to apologize for yesterday and work twice as hard."

She made a run for the bus hoping to catch an earlier one so that she could show up to work early. Nothing made a boss happier than a punctual employee. She made it in time for the early bus, thank goodness. Everything was going perfect. She was on time, she was clean, she forgot to brush her teeth. "Crap.." She mumbled to herself. Though brushing her teeth was the least of her worries when the bus decided it wanted to be part FedEx. FedEx, now delivering your mail and people. She was sent into one of the railings followed by a few other people that pressed her hard into it. She thought she heard a snap, but she was sure it had to be the breaks or something.

Everything was chaos after that as people were asking if everyone was fine. Some of the people were bleeding others holding limbs that had been hurt. She heard someone calling an ambulance and people outside yelling to us inside. Pushing on the people that were on her she noticed a man opening the doors to the bus. "Good." She said to herself. She didn't have time for this. She was going to be late for her shift if this kept up. Crawling over a couple of people she ignored the names they called her as she exited the bus. Making a break for it before someone tried to stop her she bolted down the street in the direction of her job.

Luckily during the wreck her face wasn't injured and she could still work. Steadily throughout her shift though she could feel a headache coming along with a pain on her side. When she had changed her clothes she noticed a bruise on her ribs, but had dismissed it since work was more important. She waited on all her tables throughout the pain and the splitting headache. After her shift she changed back into her street clothes. While she was changing one of the other waitresses spotted the bruise on her side.

"Oh my god!" She announced loudly. "Girl, are you ok?" Vida didn't acknowledge that she was talking to her until the girl grabbed her shoulder. "What's your name... Vianna?"

Vida looked at the girl confused and a bit shocked she was talking to her. "No." She said bluntly. "I am not a mini sausage. My name is Vida."

"Whatever." The girl spat back at her. "What is up with your side?" She sounded less concerned now.

Vida looked at her side as the bruise that had gotten much worse. "Nothing. Got into an accident."

"Did a bus hit you or something?"

"Well..." Vida hesitated. "In a way."

The conversation ended with the girl has Vida abruptly left the changing room to leave. Somehow Vida made it all the way back to her apartment without passing out from the pain. She was sure now that she had broke something, but she didn't have the money to afford the medical bill. Making her way into her apartment she got a far as closing the door before she passed out on the floor. So much for her good day..

John was in the middle of listening to 'There is a light that never goes out' when he was launched headfirst into one of those pole-things that had those buttons that made the 'ding' sound to tell the bus driver to stop at the next stop. Of course, the bell didn't stop the bus as much as the fed-ex truck did. John woke up confused and with a splitting headache. The headache wasn't nearly as bad as the pain in his wrists. His eyes fluttered open slowly to reveal the underside of the roof of an ambulance. He attempted to sit up, only to fall back down out of fatigue. He tried a second time and was exponentially more successful. He moved his hands to stead his balance only to feel a searing pain in his wrists as he did so. Much worse than the one he had when he woke up. He made a short groan before quickly moving his hands in front of his face to reveal the fact that his hands were bandaged from the bottoms of his fingers to the bottom of his wrist.

John closed his eyes and attempted to recall the past events that led up to his newfound inability to give high-fives. He was soon greeted by a medic who informed him of the events that had happened about half-an-hour ago. The medic also informed him that he had smacked his head off of a metal pole and in the process sprained his wrists while trying to stop the impact by raising them. The medic then gave him some painkillers and returned to treating the more seriously wounded victims. John snuck off soon after and walked the way home.

Sunday, 8:14 AM
John woke up a lot better rested and with a lot less pain than he did the night before. He just lay in bed, staring at his ceiling for a minute or two before sliding around and getting out of bed with a groan. He rubbed his face with his bandaged hand and made his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a bowl of cereal or whatever the correct terminology was for making a bowl of cereal. This thought had never really passed through John's mind until now. He would be more intrigued if the subject were bacon. The mighty pork scratching known as bacon, god of all foods, god of all meats.

John snapped back to reality with a firm palm to the forehead. His thoughts had been ... random in the past, but thinking about how great bacon was when he had to leave for work in a few minutes was just ... strange. He thought nothing more of it and finished his cereal off quickly before getting into his 'uniform'. Strictly speaking his uniform changed for each case he was on, but usually he could wear just about anything he wanted. He did dress at least semi-formally usually though. Soon enough, he was out of the door, waving to the old woman that had agoraphobia and often thanked, John way too much for picking her mail up for her, and leaving for the bus. Just in time this time. A lot of people may have had some sort of trauma after what had happened the night before to John if it were them. John thought nothing of it though. He didn't let a lot of things get to him.

His bus journey was relatively straightforward. And, by straightforward I do mean that in the literal sense. The route the bus took had hardly any twists or turns and probably could be mistaken for the number nine down the yellow brick road. The places John passed on the way though were rather mundane and bland. He did pass his old boxing gym on the way to work while on the bus. Aah, what memories of being beaten up and beating others up in the name of good fun he had at that club. He practiced boxing a small bit in his teen years and then practiced it a lot when he first came to America before stopping altogether.

Eventually, John reached his destination. He sighed as he realized the amount of paperwork that had to be done on the case previously and the case he was about to take on. One of the many downsides of investigating a homicide case. He trudged his way into work and then to his desk before staring at the giant pile of paperwork that his boss had probably gleefully placed earlier. His boss had a bad habit of 'mistakenly' placing some of his own paperwork on John's pile. He leaned back in his chair for a second or two before getting to work.

Sunday, 5:00 PM
John had finally finished the behemoth of paperwork that was before him a few hours ago. It could have probably been done a lot quicker if he hadn't dilly-dallied quite so much. Regular breaks to go to the bathroom where he played on his phone, drawing doodles on scrap paper, heck even staring at the ceiling was better than this. He exited work gleefully and headed to the Chinese place down the road from his work to get early dinner or late lunch depending on how you look at it. The guy who ran the place also served you your food, mostly because it was a family run business that scraped by each month. John liked the owner, he was relatively friendly with John other than the casual racism he threw around while assuming that John was actually from China like himself. John just kind of took it as a joke and went about his day without getting worried about it.

John entered through the 'authentic' oriental doors. The wind chimes jingled as the door bumped against them but were soon interrupted by the callings and arguments of the owner and his daughter. They both worked in the kitchen and took turns operating the front desk which was actually rather baron at the moment, par a few more 'authentic asian decorations. The store owners daughter was American born and had an accent as such. She was still in school and was kind of forced into the family business by her father. Soon enough, John was greeted by the middle-aged asian man dressed in a raggedy chefs outfit.
"Welcome! John, always great to see you! The special I presume?" John grinned
"What else could I choose, Wei?" He asked rhetorically. The old man just grinned before returning to the kitchen and returning around ten minutes later with John's meal, prepacked in a plastic bag. John had the money ready and laid it on the counter before making small chit-chat while, Wei got his change.
"Had much business recently, Wei?"
"Same faces really, a new guy moved in across the road, some stoner or something, he comes here a lot with his stoner buddies" He made a hand gesture in anguish
"If you ask me they should be thrown out for stuff like that, but then again it puts more money in my pocket" he laughed. John laughed a tiny bit along with him, but it was more of a courtesy laugh than anything. Wei handed John back his money while he responded.
"Not really my department, Wei, I'll see you later" To which, Wei nodded before returning to the kitchen as, John exited.

It was hard for Adam to tell if his headache or his boredom were more painful. For what seemed like hours he had waited in the emergency room lobby, too 'hurt' to be allowed to leave yet not bad enough to warrant immediate attention. The events of the crash that had landed him here were already fading, which was strange to him; it seemed like such an event would leave a terribly lasting impact upon his mind, but already the image was slipping away. He remembered sitting comfortable in the back end of the vehicle after thoroughly thanking a young lady who had given her seat up for him (she insisted that her stop was imminent, but Adam was sure she was being kindhearted--a true Samaritan. Not that he was of such an advanced age to explicitly need it, of course, but refusing the offer would have been poor manners) and peering out at the bustling New York cityscape through a smudged window. Suddenly there were load noises, crunches and steely shrieks, and a bone-rattling impact. Adam had been spared severe injury by propping himself up with his legs, having been involved in a collision while aboard public transportation about three years prior, but the woman who had bequeathed to him her seat wasn't so lucky.

Though the emergency squads appeared promptly, somehow cutting through the dense traffic congesting the busy streets, they were preceded by flocks of gawking onlookers who offered no assistance to the people in the accident. That much Adam remembered. Before long the civilians had gone their separate ways, dismissing the collision as merely another casualty of their city. Adam marveled at the callousness of it; did the big city strip its countless inhabitants of compassion for their fellows? Adam had concluded he wouldn't stick around to find out and would depart back to Pennsylvania at the next opportunity. The bus crash put something of a dent in his enthusiasm for touring the Big Apple.

For now, though, he was stuck in the emergency room...or the lobby, rather. While there had been no major issues on the bus, the paramedics had insisted some of the passengers be screened at the nearest clinic for less-than-obvious injuries. Adam had been at the forefront, rushed to the dreary-eyed medical personal to make sure none of his elderly bones were broken, and left to sit in the waiting room while the more perilous hurts were assessed when he was found to be uninjured. The 'doctors' were almost all young, barely out of college if Adam judged correctly. A few hours in and he couldn't help wonder that if, in their youthful rush, they had forgotten him. A headache accosted him in the meantime, starting out tolerable but growing more intolerable with every passing minute. Finally he could stand it no more, and with a brusque wave in the general direction of the person behind the counter he left the clinic. He had hoped to stay until he could make sure that the young lady who'd been so nice to him on the bus was alright, but he assured himself that her kindliness would bring fortune to her side.

By God's grace the lot were he had left the family car was only a block away from the emergency service clinic. On the way he popped an ibuprofen from a little metal case in his wallet and downed it, careful not to allow the crowd to jostle the object from him. He felt an obligation not to mentally label some of the people around him as suspicious, but the suspicions lurked in his mind nevertheless. He was finally alone when the roar of the city was muffled by the frame of his car, providing a hint of relief from his pounding migraine. Drawing strength in the assumption that he was on the road to recovery, he slid his key into ignition, shifted into reverse, and eased his way into traffic. The outdated GPS flickered on and he inputted his desired destination into the device as he waited at the first red light. A few seconds later he was homeward bound.

Hours passed and Adam was forced to pull into a roadside motel at about dinnertime, feeling terribly ill. Home would clearly have to wait until tomorrow, but since he had originally planned to head back to Pennsylvania tomorrow evening it mattered little. Dinner would have to wait as well; the very notion of eating made his gut convulse. He bought a room for the night from a clerk who managed to look even more decrepit than Adam felt, though this individual's hands was neither sweating nor shaky like Adam's. Was this some sort of flu? Perhaps he had gotten it in the emergency room. Not long after Adam shambled inside, waves of stifling warmth and nauseating cold washed over him and the energy drained from his body faster than bathwater down an unplugged drain. Wondering why God would allow him to survive a bus crash almost unscathed only to suffer at the hands of some sickness, he collapsed into bed after placing his valuables in a bedside drawer, and gradually drifted into a fitful sleep, still in his clothes.

Saturday, Roughly 3:00PM

James held onto the overhead handle as the bus went along, checking his texts with his other hand as he did so. There was nothing surprising, merely worried messages from his mother and his four different friends each attempting to set him up with different men, none of whom were his type. He appreciated the sentiment but thought that if he was to get his ideal man, he would find such a man himself.

His train of thought was broken as the bus suddenly crashed into another vehicle. He, unlike many other passengers, managed to technically remain standing with the assistance of a nearby seat but his glasses fell off and his phone flew out of his hands and onto the floor, where his own foot accidentally finished it off. He steadied himself and looked around but saw that nobody had any serious injuries.

Saturday, roughly 11PM
James groaned and rolled across the stupidly large bed in the spare room in his mother's penthouse apartment. He didn't live that far away in larger terms but it satisfied his mother for him to see him every few weeks and he would admit to enjoying the somewhat decadent luxury that his mother lived in. He had examined himself and seen nothing more than superficial injuries and, although he knew that he should really have got himself checked out properly, he only had a few bruises and a minor cut across his hand which he disinfected and bandaged. After that, he essentially continued his day as planned, meeting a friend and then heading to his mother's penthouse. He had trouble sleeping regularly but didn't have any sleeping pills with him as he hadn't had any trouble in the last few days and he now had a pounding headache and every part of him was aching. He got up and staggered towards the bathroom, managing to find some painkillers in the medicine cabinet and quickly swallowed them. As they kicked in and the pain was reduced, he managed to eventually fall asleep, his legs hanging halfway off the side of the bed and all of him except one arm on top of the sheets.

Sunday, roughly 7:00-10:00
Although he hadn't managed as much sleep as he had wanted to, by the time he woke up, somehow having managed to fall off the bed altogether and pull the sheet with him, his mother had already left to get on with her important work life. He understood that she couldn't exactly slack off when she was running such a large company but she claimed that she wanted to see him more and seemed to make little effort to. He had spent hours just wandering around and watching the news but eventually got bored and decided to go out.

Joy stirred groggily in her bed. The last 24+ hours had been hell. First there had been the wreck in the bus on her way back from the penitentiaries of both her parents and then there had been that damned migraine out of nowhere! She knew it wasn't due to whiplash, she'd checked herself over before the ambulance crews had even gotten there, and they'd done little more than confirm her assessment; A few bumps and bruises, but no real injuries to be concerned about. That didn't change the fact that she'd ended up with a mind rending headache at around seven that evening. She'd taken a few painkillers and shut out as many lights as she could, but it just got worse from there.
Around eleven her body started to ache, from her joints to her sinuses. Joy even felt like she was developing a fever, her body feeling hot as well as sore. She ended up taking some DayQuil to help her sleep. Here body was funny like that, DayQuil was guaranteed to knock her out for up to sixteen hours of sleep while NyQuil, for some reason, kept her awake and gave her a splitting headache, and she'd had enough of the latter for today.

Nevertheless, she'd ended up stripping down to only her underwear before crawling into bed, hoping to cool down while she slept. At this point, her body ached so much that bra was out of the question! The last thing she wanted was the clasps on the back digging into her, she was sore and irritable enough already! The DayQuil did what it was supposed to, however, and Joy soon found herself fast asleep.

In her dreams, she was with her mother and father again, living on a property in south-east Texas. They'd owned the land for nearly a generation and it was part of their 'Apocalypse Plan'. They were to rendezvous there if… When[I] it all went to hell and society started to fall. They were squatting in a blind, hunting. They'd already bagged plenty of cotton tail and were hoping for some venison. That much meat would last them a [i]long time in their chest freezer back home.
They were downwind, the house behind them to the north. The buck was about a hundred feet in front of them and Joy knew she had a shot. The Midway Partisan was no good here, but she had a scoped Mosin Nagant just for this occasion, especially useful considering how expensive .22 ammo was nowadays… For a moment Joy found herself grateful that she knew how to load her own bullets. Resting the stock on her shoulder, Joy let the crosshairs of her scope fall on the deer. It was a good clean shot, hopefully a good, clean kill. All she needed w-

Joy's eyes shot awake. She was awake, but why? What had woken her? She was still slightly groggy, but her mind was trying desperately to asses. Her aches were gone, as was her headache. Sunlight was spilling into the room, reflecting off the black of the sleeves on her jumpsuit, absorbing the heat and making her feel hotter than was necessarily comfortab-

Black jumpsuit?!

Joy sat bolt upright. She knew she hadn't been dressed when she went to bed, so why was she clothed now? Had somebody dressed her? Why? Jumping out of bed, Joy made her way to the bathroom, inspecting herself in the mirror. Whatever she was wearing it was… revealing. The chest was open from her neck to her navel, leaving little of her bust to the imagination and the sides, running from under her arms to her upper thighs were similarly revealing. The entire outfit was skin tight and form fitting, with padded shoulders, a black choker around her neck and some sort of belt… thing. The whole outfit was laughably impractical, yet somehow it seemed like it was designed for combat!
The boots were definitely combat and the material was incredibly light. The feel of the fibre of the glove that covered Joys hands felt strange, yet familiar and durable. It was all so comfortable and light that it almost felt like it wasn't there, as if it were as natural as her own skin. Not only that, something was off about it, something missing. It took a moment for Joy to realise that it was the stitching. Or lack thereof. No matter where she looked, there was no stitching anywhere, no sign that this outfit had bee sew at all, as if it were all on continuous piece of clothing, which was impossible.

Studying herself in the mirror, still trying to understand what was happening, Joy frowned. "Something's happened." She said hesitantly, carefully analyzing her situation."Something's changed."

Saturday, somewhere around 3 PM

Max was not a big fan of public transportation. Mostly because of the overcrowding effect that he really disliked. But unfortunately for him today he had no choice. He left his car at his shop yesterday because this week it had been causing him alot of problems. As he was sitting on a chair and staring at the people packed up like in a can of sardines the bus started going crazy. Max fell from his seat on the floor, hitting his head in the process. "Shit!" He mumbled as he made efforts to get up on his feet. After partially doing that Max fell once again as the bus hit a FedEx delivery truck. He went forward hitting his knee on a pole. Also someone stepped on his right hand.

As the madness ended Max gets out of the bus. Aside from a small cut on the left side of his forehead, some bruises and the fact that he was seriously shaken, everything seemed alright with him. As he reaches out for the cellphone from a pocket of his jeans he sees that the screen was broken. Goddamnit!" Said Max upset as he called the guys at his shop. "Hey! Come pick me up with the tow truck. I'm on 4th street. Stupid bus had an accident! What? No. I'm fine. Okay! I'm waiting!" Said Max as he ended the conversation, put the cellphone back in his pocket and lit up a cigarrette. "I should've taken a cab!" He said looking at the mess on the street.

Saturday 7:18 PM

Max didn't stay for long at the shop. A couple of hours and he was back home. After what he's been through this afternoon he wasn't in the mood for anything. As he opens the TV and goes to the kitchen to grab a beer, Max drops on his knees as a terrible and pulsing headache starts top disturb him. It couldn't be because of the injuries. They were superficial. In a week or two they will dissapear. As the headache started to lower down in intensity Max gets back on his feet, opens the fridge and grabs a beer. He opens it, takes a sip and goes to the TV as he throws himself on the couch. The headache was still present, bothering him, but Max wasn't bent on letting it have it's way.

Saturday 11:34 PM

Max wakes up with an empty beer bottle in his hand and another empty one on the couch. The reason he awoke was because his body started aching really bad. "Oh my God! What the hell is this?" Said Max as he shut down the TV and struggled to get up, heading to the bedroom, leaning on the walls. As he throws himself on the bed, Max takes off his clothes, remaining only in boxers. "Jesus Christ! Gimme a break!" He said as the body aches increased in intensity. As he was breathing fast, Max struggled to get some sleep, hoping that until tomorow the headaches and body aches will dissapear.

New York City, Saturday
Ian could barely care about what was going on around him as the bus bounced. His eyes focused solely on the tablet in his lap. The sound that was piped into his ears through some ear buds was an all to familiar childish giggle. The video was home footage of his five year old daughter. Ian winced at the pain that thought caused as he had to mentally correct himself that this wasn't his daughter. It was just one more thing that manipulative witch had taken from him. Through the long year that his divorce had dragged Kenzi had been the one ray of light for him. The only thing that kept Ian striving for a future. As he watched the bright face dance around the park Ian made the decision to not give up so easily. Kenzi may not be his, but he would be damned if he allowed his ex-wife to pollute such an innocent child.

All around him the throngs of humanity pushed in, threatening to overwhelm him with their stink. The only one that stuck out at him was the woman that stood over him, holding onto the overhead strap. Her perfume waived down to him as she focused on her phone. Watching her, Ian remembered Andrews words to him yesterday. He wasn't so full of himself to consider the second part of his statement, but maybe it was time for him to meet new people. He opened his mouth to say something to the woman over him when he heard the screech of the bus wheels, followed by the impact. His head went slamming forward from the force. Ian raised his hands to stop the impact, but forgot he was still holding his tablet. Ian slammed full force into the device, a sharp pain following a cracking sound.

It was all over as fast as it began and Ian's jaw hurt. He looked down and saw the massive crack across the tablet screen. There was some blood, making him reach his free hand up to where the pain radiated from. Fingers came away with blood, and Ian used the tablet screen as a mirror as he looked at himself. There was a deep gash running from his lower lip to his chin. Ian quickly grabbed some of his shirt and used it to stop the bleeding as he wondered where the nearest hospital was. So much for my good mood.

Sunday 10 AM
The sound of the bottle hitting hardwood floor jarred Ian awake. The sharp movement sent the mother of all headache through his body, making Ian fall back onto the couch. Turning his head Ian looked at the bottle on the floor and grimaced. So much for keep his promise of refraining for the weekend. After another five minutes Ian finally got the courage to pull himself from the couch and gingerly had his way into the kitchen. As he made his way to the coffee maker Ian flipped the light on. Its bright light came to life briefly before it started to fade, dying all together in under a minute. Grumbling about shitty wiring Ian opened the blinds to the big window of his apartment.

The morning sunlight filtered in, lighting up the entire room. Ian was forced to close his eyes against the blinding whiteness. Out of habit Ian began to rub the pain from his eyes when he realized there was no pain. As a matter of fact he couldn't feel the hint of a headache anymore. He slowly opened his eyes and gave a brief stretch. Amazingly he felt pretty damn good all of a sudden. Maybe he wasn't as hungover as he first thought. Shrugging Ian turned back to the kitchen and his coffee, not even noticing his reflection in the mirror that showed the scar on his chin that had faded to almost nothing since the accident.

Sunday. Noonish

She had been sitting in her room trying to convince herself to pick up all the dirty clothes that were chattered about most of the morning. Cleaning was one of her least favorite things to do when she got home since she had to do it at work. Also she disliked laundry the most because not only did she have to pick it up, she had to go to the basement to wash her clothes and chance having to stand awkwardly there with another people waiting on our clothes to finish. "Another time" She told herself as she pulled her legs up on the couch with the rest of her. Just then..... A HUGE cat crawled out of the ceiling like a ninja. Doing a spiderman climb thing across the wall followed by two amazingly executed back flips she found herself tied up and pinned under it with its paws covering her mouth. "Shhh.. your death will be purrrfect." She was being suffocated by a giant cat. Was she going to die? Was this the end for her?

Just then she sat up quickly from the floor to find an angry looking cat beside her. "It was a dream... Co-co.. it was.. wait.." She finally let it all settle in as she stared at her cat. "You tried to kill me you catnip sniffing junky." The cat didn't protest, instead he got up off the floor and walked over to the couch and jumped on it. She finally made it to her feet. Even though she was a little light headed she felt good, great actually. Better then she should have felt considering she had slept on the floor on an awkward position. She stretched a little to make sure nothing was hurt and surprisingly nothing was. Even her aches from the wreck were gone. "The wreck!" She finally remember touching her side. "I don't feel it" She lifted her shirt to check the bruise, looking down of course she didn't see anything. When it came to see anything under her breast she could just forget it.

Vida bolted to the bathroom and turned on the light to inspect herself. She held her shirt down and closed her eyes trying to remember what it looked like yesterday. "It was blue and red.. some purple. Really ugly. Today it should be a blacklish blue purple color and be hurting." Alright she was ready. Lifting her shirt she stared at the spot that had been hurt the day before. "Holy crap!" She yelled jumping back almost out of her tiny bathroom. She pulled her shirt back down quickly. Impossible. Her skin was clear of any sort of bruise. "No, no. It has to be there." Again she lifted her shirt to see and just as quickly she pulled her shirt back down. "That's impossible." She said shaking her head. "Oh god. I'm dead. I died last night. I knew I should have gone to the hospital!" Vida didn't know how to prove she wasn't dead then she thought of something she had heard as a kid. In dreams you can't feel pain. "Pain.. PAIN! Of course. If I am dreaming I can't feel pain!"

She ran from her bathroom into the kitchen searching desperately for a knife or anything with a sharp edge. Finally finding a small knife she picked it up. Her cats by now were on the counter watching their owner with plenty of entertainment. This was the most energy they had seen her with in a couple of months and they seemed to enjoy it. She looked up at her cats. "Now you guys would tell me I was dead, right? Right?" Her littlest cat gave a half purr half meow as a response. "No, you guys would let me be a ghost forever without telling me. Well.. here goes nothing." She said and turned her head away from her arm as the knife slid across her skin. The blade didn't cut her to deeply since she could instantly feel the bite. Her hand released the knife letting it fall to her kitchen floor. "Ow ow ow! That was the dumbest things I have ever done!" She exclaimed holding her bleeding arm. She turned her attention to her cats. "Why did you let me do that! OH MY GOD IT-" She stopped noticing that the pain was gone. "...doesn't really hurt." She removed her hand to look at the cut. She was shocked to find only the blood from the cut. She was healed.

"It's healed!" She was still in a panic. Normal people don't just all of a sudden get healed. They aren't all of a sudden just better out of no where. Vida ran to her front door and opened it. Looking down one side of the hall then the other she ran down to the stair well and continued to the lobby. Opening the door she ran up to the first person that was there. "Sir!" She grabbed onto his jacket sleeve gaining her his full attention against his will.

"What the hell do you want?" He snapped at her with a look of disgust. Of course he would have that look since her clothes were all messed up and her hair wasn't in the least bit in place. Not the mention she probably didn't smell that amazing.

She stared up at him. "Am I dead?" She asked him seriously. "Or asleep?"

The man pulled his arm away from her. "Stupid druggy. Get away from me." He walked away from her quickly leaving her there still confused.

"Druggy.. no, it isn't drugs." She knew for certain that she wasn't on drugs. If she wasn't dead though then what was happening to her?

Sunday Afternoon, May 4th

"You have to be kidding me." A voice groaned in protest from the backseat of the black SUV. "Do you purposely drive through every freakin' city you can find just to pester me? Seriously, there are so many other ways you could have taken instead of driving through the heart of every city on this godforsaken freeway." With her eyes closed and her hands clenching either side of her head, Tia had her chin tucked tightly towards her body. A wave of nausea started to rise as the car reached the city limits, forcing the woman to quickly shut her power off. Leaning her head to the left, Tia rested her head on the cold glass window as she watched the city without much enthusiasm.

"We don't have the time to make accommodations for you at the moment, we have to get to New York as soon as possible." Carter said, barely looking up from the file he was reading from. He knew that he was overworking the woman more than he should. Ever since the two left Tia’s house, they’ve been busy researching and trying to find out as much as they could about the events that took place before they made it to that lab that was in New York. However, he could feel exhaustion starting to set in with the very little sleep he got on the way to Tia’s house. Even their driver Richard was feeling the toll of nearly non-stop driving.

“Too bad you didn’t take the plane.” Tia said with a wishful sigh, knowing all too well that they wouldn’t be able to do so without quickly gaining Pearson’s attention. “So tell me, are the others coming or am I the only one you dragged into this mess?”

“The last I heard was that Aaron was cutting his honeymoon short and is coming in on the next available flight from Hawaii with Annie. It'll be to have her around as a doctor in case something happens. Ben is already waiting for us but I’m not really sure about Masaku and Kiernan. Both are trying hard to stay out of both our and the Reformer’s radar. I'm hoping we can find both and convince them to help us because we’ll need as many people as possible for whatever situation decides to rears its head up.” That was one thing that concerned Carter. The introduction of Gen. Bravo turned out to be a challenge with ten Supers. Three vials would greatly expand their numbers, and would easily become problematic if an army was made with the vials.

“I don’t know about the two of you but I’d like to stop for a bite to eat and grab some coffee before we get too far.” Richard the driver said, waiting for a response from both Tia and Lee before exiting the freeway.

~.~.~

New York
“Dr. Wilson, have you contacted the others yet?” Cameron said as walked into the living room of the hotel room he was staying in. He had expected to leave yesterday evening after receiving the vials but his plans had quickly changed as he learned about the broken vial. He needed the rest of his team here so that they could quickly round up the newly made Supers before Carter could find them and before they could cause havoc on the city.

“Yes, I did. I sent Josiah out to teleport Daniel here and the two of them should be here any minute. Garret is out in Texas and Josiah hasn’t been there so he’s unable to teleport there so Garret is coming as quickly as he can to a place Josiah can reach him.” Dr. Wilson said before quickly glancing at his watch, hoping that Daniel and Josiah would arrive soon.

“Good, what about Masaru and Caleb?” Cameron asked as he sat down on the couch, offering the older man a seat as well.

“We’re unable to contact Kiernan” Dr. Wilson with a slight shake of his head. That was one thing that troubled him was how the woman was able to access so much and cause so much trouble because of her abilities. “However Masaru is being Masaru as usual. He’s been MIA for quite a while and from it sounds like he’s even being careful of avoiding detection from Tia, that is if he is still alive after all these years.”

“As long as we have at least Daniel and Josiah we should be good. I’ve pulled some strings and have gotten a copy of the surveillance video of the bus prior to the crash. I’m now waiting for a list of those that were injured in the crash to be sent to me which should give us some leads of who could be our potential Supers. Once we get that list, I want Daniel and Josiah to track each person and see whether or not they are a Super. I don’t want any contact yet but I want to find all of them.” As impatient as he was, Cameron knew that he had to be patient. Once they took in one Super, it could potentially raise the attention of Carter and them it would be a big fiasco of who could find the most Supers. No, he had to plan it out and make sure that very little time passed between taking in each Super that they found and as very little commotion is caused by doing so. It would be a challenge, but nothing Dr. Wilson’s power couldn’t handle.

~.~.~

“Hi, you reached the answering machine of Jenna Baxter…”

Sitting up groggily, Jenna looked around slightly confused by the sudden sound waking her up. It was an unfamiliar sound to her as she slowly stood up, wandering if her body would ache in protest as it did last night after a horrid headache she received. However, she was glad to see that the aches and pains had mostly melted away, although her hand and knees were still raw from the day before. Her right hand had a few stiches a little below the base of her thumb and both hand were bandaged extensively by the EMT but other than that she was quite lucky. However her phone was not, although the screen still lit up, it was shattered beyond use.

“Oh, yes telephone.” Jenna said quickly making her way through her small one bedroom apartment to the kitchen where her nearly unused house phone sat gathering dust. It had been a long time since she heard the phone ring and even longer since she answered it after ignoring countless telemarketer calls. Reaching out with her left hand to grab the phone, a sharp pain emitted from her hand as she quickly decided to reconsider picking up the phone with her injured hands.

“Hello, Jenna? Did you die in your sleep or something? It’s your friend Emma, you know the one you were supposed to meet an hour ago. Seriously, where are you…”

“Oh crap!” Jenna exclaimed as she turned to look at the clock on the oven. Jenna was normally an early riser and sleeping in till the afternoon was nearly unheard of for her. “Oh god, what to do. What do I do?” Jenna said in a slightly panicked tone, wincing at the thought of picking up the phone. Taking a closer look at the phone, she wondered if there was speaker button she could press and talk to her friend. Finding the button, Jenna pressed it. However, instead of turning the speaker on, the phone turned off. “Stupid phone.” Jenna mumbled as she tried to turn the phone back on but with no success. “Of course, the one time I decide to use it the stupid phone decides to break.” Making her way back to her room, Jenna decided that she could try to contact Emma through Facebook. Opening up the screen and pressing the power button, she was surprised to see that her laptop wasn’t turning on. “You have to be kidding me? The laptop too?" With a groan, Jenna closed the laptop as she wondered what she could do. She didn't have Emma's number since it's programed in her broken cell phone, the phone was busted and her only other means of communication, the laptop was now on the fritz.

Slowly trudging her way to the kitchen, she decided to make something to eat since there wasn't much else she could do. Emma would be making her way to her apartment soon so there was no reason for her to leave and accidently miss her on the way. Grabbing an apple in her left hand and a paring knife in her right, Jenna made her way to her small dining room table.

"Oh crap." Jenna mumbled as she quickly moved her her light leg back as the knife slipped out of her hand and stretched out her hand towards the knife.

"Oh Crap!" Jenna exclaimed as the knife suddenly stopped in midair for a few seconds before falling to the ground.

"Whatcha' staring at?" A familiar voice said as the door suddenly swung open without a knock to warn that someone was there.

"At the knif-"Jenna started to say before she noticed how crazy she would have sounded if she said what she thought she saw aloud. "Ah nothing much, I almost cut my foot on the knife when I dropped it but I guess I have catlike reflexes or something because it was a close one."

Joy held the phone to her ear as she waited for the prison to put her father on. Her PIN had cleared her, so she knew her call was logged, but she didn't care. A black duffel bag lay at her feet and a beat up, yet reliable car sat parked next to her.

"Hey, sweetie. Everything okay?" her father's voice came across the line. She knew the call was being monitored, it was dumb to assume it wouldn't be.

"I'm okay. Just a spot of flu and needed some comforting." Joy coughed once, throatily.

"Well that's no good, honey. Any idea what it is?"

"Probably just a common cold" She let loose, coughing again chestily, four times. "Which wouldn't really surprise me. *cough, cough* I read a report saying that something was going around." Joy stopped a moment.
"So how are you since I last saw you?"

"I'm fine, sweetie, don't worry about me, worry about yourself. Anyone else at work got what you got?" her father asked, genuine care and concern in his voice.

"No." Joy replied. "So far I'm the only one. Here's hoping I'm not too contagious."

"Well, you can never be too careful sweetie. Perhaps you should call you mother too and then curl up at home and get some rest. If you need comforting, just close your eyes and picture us there taking care of you, ok?"

"Okay, I will, daddy. It was good talking to you." Joy paused a moment. "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetie. Get well soon."

Joy hung up. Looking down at her bug-out bag, Joy pulled out some more quarters before dialing the women's prison, keying in another PIN and asking for her mother. At least she'd been able to get the message through to her father. After watching her 'hair-suit' recede into her body and leaving her looking normal once more, Joy had been quick to come to her first and most obvious conclusion. She had powers of some sort.
Were they because of genetic mutation? Viral? She didn't know, but she needed to get out of here. The chances of her being the only person, or even the first, to develop powers was highly unlikely, never mind the fact that they seemed to spontaneously appear. Which meant there had to be others. And if there were others, there were people who knew about them, which almost certainly meant that there were people who would want to exploit and weaponise them. As such, Joy planned to become hard to find.

The call to her father had been code. "A spot of flu" started the code, then every first consonant in every sentence spelled part of the word with every cough representing a vowel. She'd told her father what scenario was in play. 'Powers.' By telling him that she was the only one who had 'the flu', she was telling him that she was the one empowered with no evidence of others with powers having appeared yet. Finally, her father had told her to go 'home' and picture him there. That meant she was going to Texas and he'd be orchestrating an escape soon to meet her there.

"Are you okay, honey?" the voice of her mother appeared on the other end of the line.

"Just a spot of the flu, mom. Dad suggested I call you." She coughed six times. "Part of what everyone recently seems *cough* to have come down with. Just picturing you and dad being at home with me and comforting me."

"Oh, honey, that's no good, but I hope picturing us there helps…"

Joy and her mother made small talk for several minutes before hanging up. The content didn't matter, like home remedies and lullabies, the message had been given. Joy could hardly repeat the same code to her mother, it would give it away. As such, the six coughs, one more than the number of vowels in the English alphabet, told her mother they would be using a backup, with each letter in her initial sentence once again spelling 'powers', before stopping the code with a solitary cough.
Now that her mother knew that Joy was picturing her and her father being with her at 'home', she had been able to confirm that she would be orchestrating an escape as well.
Her parents already had that plan covered. They would break out tonight, midnight exactly, so as not to bring unwarranted attention to each other due to the other's breakout and meet her in Texas.

Picking up her duffel bag, Joy got in to her car and started to drive north. It would be a long trip. Her family had cars hidden at several gas stations so that, even if traffic cameras recorded her heading north, she would constantly switch cars and directions to throw them off. The Midway Partisan and several of her guns and boxes of ammunition were concealed in a hidden panel in her the trunk of the car and her bag held ID, passports and roughly $25,000 dollars in cash.
As Joy started to drive, she made sure to keep an eye on her rear view mirror, watching for any hint of a tail. This was not good. She was empowered somehow with no answers, but she had prepared for this, her parents had made sure of it.

"Time to get the hell out of Dodge…" She muttered to herself as she drove.

An endless sea of sand...

Adam's mental activity was fuzzy, as if each act and thought was mired in syrup. His senses were equally lugubrious; he had almost no awareness of his surroundings except for a blurry divide between beige and white. The colors were very alike, making cognition difficult, but after a few moments his sight began to clear. Adam became aware that he was standing on a vast, empty desert, totally uninterrupted by dune, cactus, creature, or anything from horizon to horizon. As was his tendency when he lost his way, Adam looked skyward for guidance but found only white. Like the ground, the heavens were spotless and bright, though white instead of tan. They reminded the man beneath them of a winter sky, cloudy but pure. Was this some sort of dream? He took a tentative step, and the sand shifted normally beneath his feet. No vision assailed him, no sensations bombarded him, yet he could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. Where had he been last? It was hard to remember.

A pinprick of pain came suddenly to his wrist. Though the sensation was minuscule and dim, he recoiled nonetheless. Seconds later another hit him, but he couldn't see what was causing the tiny agony or where it was coming from. Adam whirled around, kicking up sand, looking in every direction before he figured it out: it was grains of sand that were hitting him. The ominous feeling from earlier was nothing more than a rising wind, blowing along some of the sediment from the strange wasteland in its wake. As he came to this conclusion, however, he became aware that more and more sand was blowing against him. He turned to face the wind for a split second and saw, to his surprise, a sandstorm raging his way. Still more than a thousand feet off, this squall stunned him. How had he not seen it coming just seconds ago when he looked every way to try and discover the nature of his surroundings? While he contemplated that, distracted, the dark, dirty cloud swallowed him up. Breathing was difficult, and the pain before that had been so scattered like a few raindrops was now a constant, intolerable deluge. Adam stumbled onto his back, unable to stop the dusty tide...

He awoke kicking, and a flood of relief washed over him. Morning sun peered through the unattended blinds. The storm, the sand, all were just a dream. A sudden realization hit him as he sat up and lifted an arm and found himself in the possession of a surprising vigor. Compared to the bumbling wreck he had been last night, he was right as rain. Muttering "Thank God" he sank back against the sheets. Sensations against his skin alerted him that something was wrong; the sheets were uncomfortable and irritating. He ran a hand across the pillow and felt numerous tiny grains that froze him in his tracks. There was sand in his bed--sand, only a dozen miles away from the New York-Pennsylvania border and dozens of miles away from the nearest beach. "How...?"

As it turned out, the presence of sand wasn't the only mystery in Adam's room. Thoroughly perplexed, the man stood up from the bed -still in the clothes of the night before- and meandered into the bathroom. On the way, he attempted to rub the remnants of sleep from his eyes only to discover with disgust that his hands were still pebbled with sand. After a thorough dusting he tried again but suffered the same result. Increasingly confused and annoyed, he yanked the sink faucets and washed his hands clean of all traces of sand. Third time proved to not be the charm, infuriatingly, and Adam was stupefied that the grains had managed to cling to his skin despite both dusting and cleansing. For the first time he actually looked at his hands, and witnessed -to his shock- grains of sand seemingly forming on his palms out of thin air. A new sensation took a hold of him: fear. With a violent motion he flung the sand off and hurriedly left the room, pausing his escape only to stop at the front desk to make sure that he had paid for everything and was clear to go. Moments later he was back in his car, staring at his palms once more. Not a grain of sand to be seen. He murmured darkly to himself and turned the ignition,

Sunday Afternoon
James walked down the street, a cascade of noises coming from his surroundings. The nausea and aches he had witnessed in the night were over and the only remnant of them was the fact that he now felt tired because they had kept him up all night. He yawned as he walked into a small store, more as a brief respite from the intense crowds than with any intention to buy anything.

As he loitered next to some newspapers, trying to decide which was the least politically objectionable, he heard a sudden loud noise from across the store and instinctively looked over to see the only other possible customer in the store shoving the register into a bag while pointing a gun at the man working behind it, neither of them seeming to have noticed his presence.

A more sensible man would have merely called the police, but James Knight was not entirely sensible when he was in a crisis without any useful skills. When he was operating he could be the difference between life and death but he was now faced with the possibility of somebody else ending a life, no matter what he did. So he panicked.

"Stop!"

As he shouted, the noise that came out of his mouth was amplified significantly. A deafening roar echoed throughout the store and even though it wasn't the loudest noise any of them had experienced, it was loud enough to disorient all three of them. The robber dropped his gun and accidentally discharged a bullet into the floor, the noise similarly amplified.

There was a ringing in James' ears as he covered them with his hands, seeing a similar reaction in the others present as a cop burst into the store having heard the shot and been directed to the right place by the crowd outside. The noise died down but as he stood there, mostly ignoring the people starting to crowd around, he was just shocked. What had happened, noise coming out of a human at that volume, was impossible. He had never heard a bullet at this distance so he couldn't really tell but it seemed louder than he would have thought it would be. And yet, even though the sound was far louder than it should have been it still felt somehow right, as if it was under control. Even though he hadn't purposely done anything, something in him was telling him that he had caused it.

Sunday, 3:35 P.M.
Himura Dojo

They had been going at it for a full five minutes, which anyone that knew how a real fight went compared to the Hollywood movies, knew five minutes was a prolonged battle. Somehow, even though Aki was holding back for Ranae’s sake, she had managed to keep him at bay for this long. He went a bit slower, took longer to react, but she still showed amazing skill in being able to predict his movements - something that both surprised and interested Aki. Though he had spent his life training his body and practiced breathing techniques and endurance, Ranae’s stamina was almost at his level and in a small way, he felt disbelief despite the facts.

Finally, Aki jumped away, causing the young lady to mimic his maneuver and ready her next strike before he held his palm up, motioning that she was to pause. With a slight hesitation, she finally stood up straight, glancing to her fellow students. Ranae didn’t blame them for looking at her like that; disbelief, shock, uncertainty - she felt the same inside as her gaze went back to her sensai who only stared at her with a quiet reflection.

“Ranae-san ...” he started, lowering his hand and folding his hands behind his back. “Have you been holding back this entire time?” The question had took Ranae by surprise as she shifted her stance back a little, but soon realized where he was coming from.

“No sensai, I- ... I’m not sure how I’m doing this ...” The thought was already planted though as she noticed her peers looking at her with less disbelief and more disgust - the idea of her fooling them making them upset, as if she had played them all as fools. After all, who would believe she could’ve suddenly gained such skill in only a week?

Aki was unsure however, despite Ranae’s peers settling into the idea and simply nodded. “I see... well, for now we’ll unofficially grant you the title of ‘Journeyman,’ but this new development requires some thought. You are all dismissed..” He bowed his head respectfully to the class as everyone stood up and bowed deep at the waist. As Aki left the room, so did the other students, but not before giving her sneers and disappointed looks - except one of the younger men who only addressed her with confusion.

Sunday, 7:23 P.M.
Ranae’s Apartment

She had turned the T.V. Off after dinner, avoiding watching the news, mostly because she never watched the news though she admitted to herself to avoiding any news concerning any possible discoveries of super powers or other strange events. She knew she couldn’t just put this up to chance or something that she caught on to by some weird mental technique. It wasn’t luck either because in the full five minutes she spent in that sparring with Aki, she was flooded with knowledge of moves and skills that she had never been taught. It wasn’t like they had overwhelmed her and in fact had the opposite effect; she felt more in control and more calm than she ever felt in a situation like that and she could recall the same knowledge even now.

It wasn’t just knowledge though. She felt her reflexes heighten, her perception grow, and her body move faster - no, this was not normal at all and with her fascination with the comic book world, her mind almost instantly went to the existence of super powers. The question wasn’t what anymore, but how she got them and she spent the last hour trying to figure it out, running through the last few days until it the realization hit her. The bus. It was the only out of ordinary thing that she could describe and it wasn’t like you got in a crash like that everyday, but it didn’t really answer how the event caused her sudden adaptation unless her power was genetic on some level.

Even beyond this, she finally had something to reach her first goal. She ran her fingers through her brown hair and stroked Axlis’ back a few times before she started to purr, making the woman break into a small smile. “So, what do you think Axlis’? What sort of name should I get?” Ranae tilted her head a bit, but Axlis’ didn’t care, just closing her eyes as she continued to purr happily. Shaking her head, Ranae looked around the room for a bit and spotted on of the comics that had fallen from the shelf sometime while she was gone. The woman hopped up and bent over to pick the book up and place it back when the cover gave her an idea.

“.... hm ... black .... I like red better.” She slide the comic book of Black Canary back into the shelf and paused. “Red Canary. Has a nice ring to it.”

Sunday morning, 10:47 AM

Max wakes up all groggy and struggling to open his eyes as the sun was beating on his face. As he pulled off the blanket away from him Max looked at the clock. It was almost 11. Max was happy to see that those horrible headaches and body aches from last night were no more. They were a real pain. Normally Max can take pain without acting out but what happened last night was too much to handle. As he rises and sits on the edge of the bed, he starts thinking about yesterday. It still bothered him and he couldn't understand what could have caused those disturbing aches.

As he rises up and walks to the mirror Max starts to check his injuries from yesterday. After seeying that everything was fine he goes to the bathroom, turns on the shower, takes off his boxers and walks inside as the water starts pouring down and him. After the shower Max puts some clean clothes on him, a white t-shirt, a pair of jeans and some socks and walks out towards the kitchen, but as he was doing that he sees that in the living room, his telephone had a blinking red button on. As he heads over to the telephone Max presses the message button.

"You have two new messages!" Followed by a beep.

"Hey man it's me Frank, from the car shop. Listen we finished up your car last night. And brought it over to your house. Everything should be perfect now. Umm...I tried to call you to let you know but you didn't answer. Anyway, see you tomorow. Bye!" Followed by another beep.

Hey daddy! It's me Angela. Look. We really need to talk about mom's new boyfriend. Can you believe they wanna get married? God! I mean...they've been dating each other for like 7 months. I don't think that's enough, besides I don't like the guy. There's something strange about him, I just can't put my finger on it. I had a few arguments with my mother because of that creap! Anyways i'll try to drop by your home tomorow. Love you daddy, bye!" Followed by a beep.

Max went to the kitchen wanting to do some breakfast but since he wasn't in the mood for anything he just settled for some milk and cereals as he grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge and put some of it on the stove to get it warm.

Sunday 1:37PM

Vida made her way back up to her apartment. she still couldn't figure out if she was dead or not. Everyone seemed to see her and they acted normally so she couldn't be a ghost. Unless she was a ghost and she just looked like a normal person, but then there was the pain that she had felt. Ghosts don't feel pain, do they? She thought about every show and movie that had to deal with ghosts. Casper the Friendly Ghost, Ghostbusters, Ghost all of them had something in common. A ghost could pass through things at will. They didn't need to open doors. "Alright here goes nothing." She whispered to herself. Getting a big breath and looking to a wall she decided to try passing through it. If she couldn't she would accept the fact she wasn't dead. Vida took a few hasty steps to the wall and of course was stopped when she bashed her nose square into it. Instantly she collapsed to the ground holding her nose. "Ow ow ow.." tears stung her eyes as she laid in a ball on the ground.

"Whoa. Girl are you alright?" A woman said as she held onto the arm of a guy. "Maybe next time you should open your eyes when you walk."

The guy laughed with her as they walked by. She had to admit that seeing someone walking straight into a wall would be rather funny to see, though it wasn't her dumbest idea of the day. She had thought about the fact that ghost normally flew around. At least she didn't jump off the building to see if it would work. She held onto her nose as she walked to her room not noticing that the pain was actually gone. She stopped dead in her tracks staring in horror at the sight that was before her. She had left her apartment door open. "NO!!"

Sunday 3:45PM

Vida spent the next two hours finding her cats and apologizing to the people they had bothered. It wasn't enough that she was having the weirdest day ever, but she had to go on a cat hunt. She held both cats in her arms as she walked into her apartment and closed the door. "No catnip for you two tonight." She dropped the cats and looked around for her phone. She was suppose to be at work today and she hadn't even checked the time. Finally finding her phone she turned it on and stared at it. It felt like her stomach dropped to the floor as she saw the time and the 17 missed calls. She was suppose to be at work at one now it was almost four. "I am fired. I am sooooo fired." She said starting to pace. Great! Now what was she going to do. "I know." She said talking to her cats. "I will go and apologize. Yeah. That will work.. maybe." Flustered she throw on a shirt, a pair of pants, and some shoes. Grabbing her coat she patted the pockets feeling her keys then slipped her phone in. "Alright you two, watch the house." With that she bolted down the stairwell and into the street.

Running through the city was nothing new to see. People ran all the time if they missed their buses or trains. Today she didn't have time for either, she would make the trek on foot. Vida cut through traffic and practically pushed people out of her way. It wasn't long before she arrived at The Y. It was a community facility that she had been able to get a lifeguard and swim instructor job at thanks to her training back home. She ran past the front desk not stopping to show her employee card. "Late!" She yelled as they called for her. She ran into the aquatics area and relaxed seeing that her lesson had been covered. "Thank goodness." she breathed.

"Thank goodness for what?" A familiar voice repeated behind her.

Vida stood up straight still trying to catch her breath. "That someone took the lesson of course. I meant to call you to let you kno-"

"I don't want your excuses." He snapped. "Now. I am only going to forgive you this one time." She was elated to hear him. "But that is only because you are willing to take any shift and work over time."

"Yes sir. Anything." She said quickly. "Well.. as long as it doesn't interfere with my other job. I already gave you my schedule. But yes! Anything to make up for this. I will scrub your toilet! Well not your toilet, but the toilets here. I am sure your wife would be-"

"I get it" He stopped her. "Now get in your suit and get ready for your next lesson."

"Yes sir!" She said and ran off to the locker room. Everything was going to be alright as long as she still had her job. Vida actually liked this job too. She worked well with kids. She had a hard time communicating with adults, but with children it was easy. As long as you smiled and showed interested in the things they liked they were quick to accept you. If only she could make enough money just doing this she would quit her waitressing job and work here. But being as things were she didn't make nearly enough money working here. She knew that she should actually quit this job and find another one that paid more, but she couldn't bring herself too.

The instant Adam felt tiny particles forming beneath his fingers on the steering wheel and sliding over its rubbery surface onto his lap, he realized the events of the early morning had not been some flu=induced hallucination and promptly pulled over. With no rest stop, convenience store, gas station, or other such luxury in sight, he was forced to stop his vehicle on the side of the highway, accompanied an irate beep sounding from another motorist who had been obliged to slow down as Adam did the same before pulling over. Luckily this particular stretch of road was rather remote, with only short stretches of grass and a bulwark of trees on either side. Now thoroughly at a halt, parking break engaged and all, Adam examined his hands again and found more irritating grains of sand. The same flowing chill from earlier crept over the hairs on Adam's neck. This was absolutely not right. Should he see a doctor? This seemed more like a job for a priest than a physician. His mind couldn't help but jump to conclusions, some ranging from decently plausible to downright science fiction. Was somebody playing a practical joke on him? Had he taken some sort of psychoactive drug? Was he going crazy, or had scientists somewhere, somehow, created some sort of serum that altered his body...to make sand? Was this God's doing?

As these questions plagued him, he initially failed to notice a slight but steady rise in the amount of sand falling from his hands. It wasn't until he shifted his legs and felt a swath of powder slide off him onto the floor that he realized that he had a problem. After carefully checking to make sure no oncoming traffic would callously flatten him, Adam shoved open the driver's-side door and stiffly, awkwardly made his exit. Over thirty years of driving and he still hadn't mastered getting out of a car...but there were more pressing concerns. Still dribbling sand, he meandered a short distance away from the road. The sand was now falling quickly enough to make a definite trail, with little mounds where he tried to stop. Adam's old nerves were beginning to tremble; he was nothing if not freaked out. He held his hands aloft in an almost reverential manner, trying to determine the source of the problem but still not sure if this was all some sort of dream. It certainly seemed real.

Suddenly, a huge blast of sound from the direction of the road startled him, and he whirled just in time to see an eighteen-wheeler thunder past. Neither Adam or his car were posing any sort of complication to the highway just now; maybe the truck driver just wanted to impress him. Dimly Adam remembered from his childhood a biker that lived in his neighborhood who would boisterously rev his engine whenever he passed a pedestrian. Worse still, it seemed that the egregious noise had given him a headache. He raised a hand (which was, mercifully, finally free of sand) to his forehead for a good rub, meant to mitigate the rising pain there in accordance with the gate-control theory of pain--the one thing he remembered from college psychology classes. While doing this, he noticed a rather large pile of sand at his feet, but that wasn't what caused him to freeze in utter disbelief; a little motorcycle made of sand rested on the pile. Adam recoiled and aimed a kick at the tiny bike, which -to his further shock- rolled backward of its own accord to avoid the strike. Suddenly fearful some sort of dark design was at play, Adam lashed out again, and this time the sand construct burped to life and raced away across the grass toward the highway, where it sped into the road and was promptly obliterated by a forest-green minivan. As the dust settled, Adam's lips moved up and down, but no sound came out. Then, with a speed bordering on hysteric, he jumped back into his own car and made his way onto the highway once more. He needed a doctor...or perhaps a priest. Whichever he found first would do.