Chương 47: Lets Go to the Mall

The Nordstrom Mall had seen better days or at least the section we were near had. We stood in an alley at the edge of the sprawling four story structure where a super fight had ripped a hole in the side of the building. Someone had set up a metal fence to keep people from climbing through the gaping opening but Rigel demonstrated the fruitlessness of that effort as he grabbed the chain links with his gauntlets and ripped them apart like they were made of string before turning back to me and gesturing grandly.

"We can practice here, the third floor has a bunch of mannequins I like to use for target practice and renovations stalled after the last super fight in the area knocked out the south wall here." I looked between him and the mall.

"The whole place is empty?" I asked skeptical.

"What about security guards or mall cops? Paul Blart is not to be underestimated." He chuckled.

"The damage to this side of the building still needs to be repaired and until they fix the wall and a couple of pillars. Nobody is allowed in this part of the mall. It's perfect for discreet vigilante training " I looked over his shoulder at the red sign with a white X that said "Danger Unsafe to Enter" and arched an eyebrow.

"Dont worry as long as you don't plan on knocking out any walls or load bearing pillars we'll be fine."

"You said the sewers would be fine too and we were almost caught by Biggie and his friend Smalls." He gave out a short barked laugh.

"Those two were just minions. The biggest danger they posed would be getting splashed with sewage as we took them down." I paused thinking. Would it have really been that easy?

"What about the guns?" He shook his head.

"Your jacket and pants are rated Level 3 A body armor. They will stop a shot from a. 44 magnum. It's only high caliber rifles you have to worry about." I had seriously underestimated the power of my armor. I didn't know much about bullet caliber but if watching movies with gran had taught me anything Dirty Harry could use it to blow a head clean off. We slipped past the fence and into the silent abandoned mall.

Empty stores lined the walking path that geriatric grandmas used for power walking when the weather was cold. Gran had been invited once by another old lady on the bus but it didn't work out, her rant about walking in circles being for folks who were too dumb to know where they were going had grievously offended the woman. Each shop was locked up behind a metal grate but it looked like the merchandise had all been cleared out.

"Why lock everything up when there is nothing left for people to steal?" Rigel strode across the mall toward the escalators.

"Lots of reasons, to keep out squatters, enterprising artists, and people like us. Come on, we need to get up to the third floor." I stopped following and touched the grappling hook on my belt. There was a cement pillar stretching all the way up to the third floor that looked pretty sturdy. If I was going to become a better vigilante I might as well start now.

"Rigel, I thought you said vigilantes don't take stairs." He turned to look back as I pointed my gun upward and fired. The metal rod flew right on target, burying itself in the pillar above. Rigel nodded and smiled.

"Now you're getting it." He grabbed the gun from his waist and fired his next to mine. I grinned, grabbed the handle in both hands and pressed the button and, in the space of a half-second, jerked up into the air, my whole body pulled along. The line buzzed as it reeled me in just like a fish on a hook, with an unnatural wind blowing straight into my face. This was what mach five must feel like. My arms might have been disconnected from its socket due to the strain, but at the moment, it just did not matter.

Maybe it was the fact that I passed the second floor miraculously avoiding banging my head as I flew by. Maybe it was my stomach flipping itself over and over, confusing my body into a psychotic sense of euphoria. But by the time I reached the top, releasing the button to stop my ascent and grabbing the guard rail to throw myself over it– I still had a grin on my face. My body laid on the ground unmoving which was pretty strange because just a second ago it had been freaking flying.

A gasping laugh bubbled to my lips as I took my first breath and I just let it out. Yep. Definitely psycho-induced euphoria. Rigel sat on the railing like he'd been there the whole time, having not flopped over it like I did.

"Not so bad, is it?" I answered just like any zealous teenage girl about her favorite boy band.

"IT WAS FREAKING AWESOME!" His smile widened.

"So I've finally sold you on jumping over rooftops, huh?" My face flushed.

"I didn't die, which was pretty unexpected. Also, my shoulder is probably back on the ground below somewhere. Think I still prefer hopping down a building, though." The centrifugal force I'd just experienced most likely addled my brain from the sound of it. I looked around the mezzanine.

"Where's your mannequin shop?"

"Right over here." The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Two shops down was a clothing store called "Glamour Girls" Judging by the aesthetic they sold makeup and clothing to teens who thought pink and glitter was the epitome of fashion. The metal gate was bent at the corner providing just enough room for Rigel to squeeze through, which was more than enough space for me.

"So, not to judge but did you get villain points for the destruction to property when breaking in here?" He would have to use his powers for it to count as villainy, so if he didn't it wouldn't count. He is breaking into private property and damaging it, He shook his head.

"You don't get villain points for minor acts of crime. You have to do something bigger. Like rob a bank or take a hostage. Same with heroes. The bigger the spectacle, the bigger the points." He looked back at the broken gate.

"And I plan on fixing that… eventually."

"So if you escape from prison in a giant robot you get huge points, but if you trick the police into letting you go then you only get, say– thirty?" He looked over at me.

"That's correct, but also pretty specific. Did you escape from the police?" I studiously avoided eye contact as we walked past rows of empty shelves.

"Escape is a strong word. I convinced them that it was a misunderstanding and they had the wrong person, then they let me go."

"Did they have the wrong person?"

"Oh no, they had the right person. I was using my power to get a pickpocket caught by shoving her into a police officer."

"Wow. Impressive""Thanks."

"But dumb ""Dumb?"

"You are a vigilante and you got involved with the police over a pickpocket? You need to pick your battles." I huffed "Like raiding the Alchemist's drug den?" He smiled as he opened a door at the back of the shop.

"Exactly" I stepped in behind him.

"The pickpocket was the worst though. She kept stealing from families and lonely people."

"Considering that you want to be a vigilante –and stay that way– it just seems to me that you should pick your battles. Would it really be worth having your cover blown just to save someone from getting their wallet stolen? Wouldn't it be better to take the risk to save someone's life– maybe several lives?"

"I have saved people, and yeah, of course that means a lot more, but I just want to use my powers to help wherever I can and on my own terms. Is that so wrong?"

"It is when you want it to stay a secret. Alright, give me five minutes and we should be able to set things up in the big hallway out there." Three hundred seconds later, headless mannequins stood in a haphazard line on a dust covered floor in a silent, empty cavernous chamber, ready to come alive the second this became a horror movie. Malls were always marvels of terror, but abandoned ones took it to a whole other level. Who knew I'd ever miss the thronging crowds of people that usually filled them?

Rigel moved around the room and stuck a small object in each mannequin's pocket and my task was to get them as quickly as possible.

"There's no way to know how many we'll be up against, unfortunately," he said, taking his place off to the side to observe.

"But this should give us some data to work with. Ready?" I stood there, hands in fists, foot tapping against the floor, launching clouds of white dust into the air as I scowled at the human-shaped inert objects. They hadn't done a thing to make me hate them so much, other than look a bit creepy, but in my head, they were the purple-tinged, inhaler-chugging monsters of my very real memories. One hand-less arm grew thick talons and I heard laughter in a Long Island accent that raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

Hot hatred burned through my veins, the tapping of my foot became silent and the swirls of dust stilled. I ran forward, scanning the mannequin's body for a protruding bump that would signal the item. My fingers dove into the first one's shirt pocket, the second one's back jeans, the third's belt. I was making my way to the fourth when the sound of Rigel's "whoa" broke the silence. He was shaking his head, a hand at his mouth.

"I knew what to expect and yet, this is still just… geez, and I'm the first person to see this?" I shrugged.

"You're the first to see and understand it. I saved this one lady before and she thought I was a speedster because I looked glitchy, apparently. So did all of the people I've fought, they all just thought I had speed powers."

"They don't know your power exists, at least, they don't have it on record. Right now your power is similar to a speedster, but who knows what you could do in the future as it continues to grow. People in charge are going to be very interested in seeing what all you can do." I looked away.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be their number one guinea pig to test on. You know, you're just motivating me more to keep to myself, live a quiet life, only use my powers to get back at the concealed, unsuspecting criminals who really deserve it– like the DMV or IRS." A long huff of air escaped me as my hands fisted again. A headache still lanced through my forehead, but everything else felt okay.

"Aren't we here to test things out for your numerous spreadsheets? How about we actually do some testing?" He looked down at a device.

"It's been three minutes. Do you feel ready to try again?" I nodded, wincing a bit at the pain that caused.

"Alright, turn around," he said, walking to the mannequins.

"I'm going to change things up a bit." My eyes closed, hearing lots of thumps and long scraping sounds as he likely moved things around. I listened to my heartbeat, the breaths coming from my chest, trying to melt away the slight stinging in between my eyes.

"Okay– now!" The mannequins now had several feet in between them and stood haphazardly around the space. I turned them into the Alchemist's goons in my mind, just waiting to change into some kind of mutant monstrosity, and saw Rigel's body suddenly still in my peripheral vision. Nerves along my frontal lobe throbbed in a synchronized attack, but I jumped forward to the closest mannequin. My eyes scanned over the clothes but saw no bump, until they landed on a small tube under the pant leg of an ankle.

Ducking down, my hand closed over the edge and pulled. I ran without fully straightening to the next one. Mannequin Chad held a child's tea cup which fit so perfectly in his almost closed hand that it would not come out easily. I pinched the edge of it between my fingers and kicked a foot into his chest. The cup came out, the hand came off, and Chad fell to the floor in his sunset tank top. My feet stumbled forward, but by the time I made it to the third fiberglass figure, Rigel was moving again.

Warm liquid trickled from my nose, so I held up an arm sleeve under it. Footsteps shuffled toward me; my eyes were shut tight as I breathed through the butcher knife in my brain.

"Is something wrong? Did you hurt yourself?"

"No," I said with my shirt sleeve still stuck up my nose. My hand raised up my trophy.

"I hope the mutants' hands will be as easy to take off though."

"Your nose is bleeding? I shrugged.

"Yeah it happens everytime I use my skill too much."

"You know that's not normal right?"