by M&CNICFYYY2K
It's sunset in the big city. The department store is almost empty by now. The cops cleared the scene, the fire department made sure there wasn't any structural damage, the reporters came and went, and, more importantly, the hostages are safe in their homes. The only one who's still there by the time I get back from the hospital is my assigned partner, Alfhild, sitting on the edge of the rooftop in silence.
"How is he?" she asks me the moment I arrive, without even turning her head to make sure it's me. It creeps me out when she does that. She's talking about the metaterrorist we just defeated... the one she unintentionally burned alive.
"Conscious. Too conscious, I'd say." I sit next to her. "Before they sedated him, he sent you his regards... unless when he yelled, 'I swear I'm gonna kill that bitch,' he was talking about me. I'm not actually sure."
She continues staring into the horizon without saying a word. You know, all I wanted a few hours ago was to be the one to beat the bad guy... and now that I see her, I'm not so sure I would have enjoyed that.
"We should be heading back home," she says, eventually.
"Oh, right. Sorry for taking so long in the hospital. I had to tell the cops what happened here like twenty times. On top of that, the big boys called to let us know we have a meeting with one of their guys tomorrow, to fill a report about all this."
"Yeah, that's standard procedure..." she sighs, "...but it still sucks."
"I mean, at least if they beamed us up to the HQ, it'd be worth it... but they told me we're gonna fill the report in one of their offices in the city. It's not even a fully equipped hi-tech office, just a regular one. I asked."
"You've never seen the HQ either, huh?" Alfhild says. "I hear it's really something. It's half-spaceship, half-hotel, with rooms for every single registered member."
"Every single one?"
"Yeah, but since no one but the core group gets to go up there, the big boys probably use the rooms to sleep with each other in a different bed every night."
"You know, we should be out there, saving people! Not sitting in an office, filling a report. I bet Superman doesn't have to fill reports every time he fights Solomon Grundy."
"That's probably because he's fictional, Will."
"Yeah, well... you know what I mean."
We both agreed that we should be home by now, but for some reason neither of us gets up to leave. We stay sitting there on the rooftop as the sky turns dark. We try to joke, but it's obvious that we still feel uneasy about the way this whole thing ended. Something feels... unresolved.
"You kids did good," a familiar voice says, breaking our silence. For a second I fear it might be my dad, and I instinctively shield the back of my head. Those head-slaps are a bitch, even when they're friendly.
"Easy there, junior. I ain't gonna eat you," says our local contact to the big boys, Richards. He crudely lands his ass on the space of ledge between us, and takes a pack of cigarettes from his trench coat. "You want one?"
"No, thanks, I don't..."
"I wasn't talking to you, runner," he cuts me short. "Miss Alfson?"
Alfhild takes a cigarette and, without a hint of aggression, throws it away. As the cigarette falls ten stories down to the street, a wide-eyed Richards watches it as if it was a piece of his soul.
"Lovely," he says when it finally lands. "But seriously... you did one heck of a job against Martin there."
Richards lights his cigarette. "Martin?" Alfhild asks.
"That's how we call the time-stopper. He doesn't have a codename, so we had to name him something when we added him to our database. He's given some heavy hitters a hard time, you know. I'm sure the core group will be impressed when they he hear was beaten by two kids. Maybe they'll send a compensation your way, or somethin'."
"You think... we'll get to see the HQ?" I ask.
"Ha! HA!" He coughs smoke and pounds his chest until he calms down. "No. I haven't seen the HQ, pal... and, lemme tell you something, I'll be pretty pissed if you get to see it before me. Heh." He starts coughing again, until he has to put out the cigarette on the ledge. "Now my smoke's ruined. Nice job, jackass."
Richards gets up and starts walking away. "Don't be late to the meeting tomorrow, or they'll cut off your balls."
The sun is down by now. We're ready to go home. "Thanks, Richards," Alfhild says, maybe wishing he doesn't hear her from the other side of the rooftop.
"Call me Steve," he replies. "Welcome to Thunder City, kids."
The End