Augustine had once asked me how, if I could only 'use' life force, I was found by her DUP collectors surrounded by two corpses that were covered in third-degree burns that seemed to have come from nowhere.
"Well, maybe you shouldn't cheat on a Conduit and get caught," I had countered coldly. Don't think she appreciated that answer, but in all honesty I wasn't entirely certain how it worked either. Any rational person would probably assume that manipulating 'life force' means that you were meant to help people. Heal the wounded and treat the sick. Be a hero. My theory was that it was more than just accelerated regeneration that I could hold in my hand. It was the essence of being a human being, the physical manifestation of the human condition. War, famine, pain, fear. All of those things are part of the human condition too. Or maybe I just liked to pretend that I was more high-minded than I really was, and that was all just a fantasy I had constructed in my head to explain away why a healing power could bring about so much destruction. I never thought myself the 'hero' type anyway, which left me to wonder why a being higher than myself decided to give me, of all people, the gift of healing. Some kind of twisted joke was the answer that I came to again and again. The cosmos seemed to have a weird sense of humor.
"Okay, twenty-three dollars is your total," the girl behind the register chimed at me robotically, pulling me swiftly from my daydream. I fished the wad of bills from my pocket, counted out a few and tossed them on the counter as she pulled a plastic bag away from the rack and handed it to me. She looked me up and down before adding, "If you want to change before you leave, the rooms are over there." Pointed toward what looked to be closets constructed from bare sheets of particle board and doors that had probably been donated to the store. I shrugged, waved at her with a fake smile which she mirrored, and pushed my way through the racks of second- or third-hand clothing. Stepped into the ramshackle closet, threw open the plastic bag, and changed into the most nondescript outfit it was possible to assemble in a store that catered to irony. A plain, navy blue t-shirt that was about half a size too small for me, a pair of dark jeans that was tight in all the wrong places, and some running shoes that seemed to have been splattered with paint by a drunken high school student under the impression that this was what individualism was. Tucked a simple pair of black sunglasses into the collar of my shirt, pushed the prison transport clothes into the bag, escaped the hipster closet and eventually back out onto the street.
I looked back to where the protest had been to see a distinct lack of the crowd that I had scared earlier. Assumed they had scattered after their petition had disappeared into the ether and jogged across the street toward a deserted parking lot. I chucked the bag of now redundant clothing in the vague direction of a dumpster with no real intention to make it in, and headed toward the alleyway that connected to the next street over. Heard some sobbing and hushed speech as I walked past a dead-end alleyway that emerged into the lot over to my right. I paused for a second then carried on walking as naturally as I could feign, then doubled back. Pressed myself against the aged wooden fence that closed in the lot. The gate that had blocked this alleyway seemed to have been missing for quite a while and as I peered into the thick, oppressive darkness that engulfed the alley I could vaguely make out the shape of two bodies. Spotted a wooden board that had been sharpened to a point lying on the splintered concrete that stretched between myself and whatever incident was transpiring down there. Had likely fallen off the top of the fence. I crouched low, moving as quickly and as quietly as I trusted myself to. Snatched the stake from the ground as I approached. Stepped on a piece of broken glass in my carelessness. Grimaced as one of the figures turned toward me. I could see the other lying on the ground, their hands covering their face. The first one, the one standing, started to move toward me.
"What's this now? Goddamn fool trying to ghost up on me here?" a low voice growled in my direction. I stood to my full height of 'not enough to trump this dude' and started to back out of the alley. He followed. The sobbing grew louder. A girl's voice choked out from behind the behemoth of a man coming toward me, "Just run. This isn't your problem." Which meant that it was a problem, and I was already a part of it. I spun the wooden stake in my hand, motioned toward the guy in front of me. The shadow burst forward toward me, charging down the alley. I side-stepped the tackle clumsily, turned to face this guy. Huge African-American dude, probably played football in high school. Came at me again. My eyes widened, started to burn. I knew this feeling a little too well. The stake in my hands started to shimmer and pulsate in a dark red veil that emanated from my palms. Brought it up behind my head and swung straight for this guy's forehead with a form that would've made a professional baseball player jealous. All the energy I had pumped into that bit of wood exploded across his face and sent him cartwheeling backward. The back of his skull hit the concrete of the lot with a sickening crunch, but despite this he stumbled back to his feet and pounced on me. Seemed he either wasn't phased by or hadn't noticed that he was going up against a bio-terrorist. Still off-balance from my swing, I was taken down swiftly and gritted my teeth as what seemed like two megatons of TNT detonated against my abdomen. Again and again this brute pummeled his fists into my gut. I reached for the stake which had been tossed from my grasp. I found it eventually, clenched my fist around it. What had moments ago been a rich crimson was now an inky black. I bellowed with the bits of breath that hadn't been beaten from me and violently thrust the stake at this guy's head. It pierced his skull with little circumstance, thick tendrils of darkness crackling from the bits of wood exposed on either side of his face. His jaw went instantly slack and he collapsed on top of me. Scrambled out from underneath the dead weight. Felt the burning dissipate from behind my eyes as my breathing quickened. I jumped to my feet and started to pace around the body, wiping my hands on my jeans. My eyes darted around nervously. Spotted the girl moving in the alley, trying to slip away without me noticing it seemed. I hurried over to her, to try and ask her what I had stumbled into. She immediately recoiled as I approached.
"I'm not gonna hurt you," I breathed, trying to sound as convincing as I could.
"Like I'm gonna believe you after that," her voice faltered, cracked with fear. My shoulders slumped as I turned to look at my handiwork. Hadn't even been back for a day.
"Okay, so I could see why you might feel that way," I started as I turned back to face her. "I was just trying to help, though. I mean, are you okay?" Heard her sniffle a bit, scuffed her feet against the pavement.
"Yeah, I-I'm fine," she stammered. "I don't really want your help anyway if it's gonna end up being that."
"Alright, whatever." Turned and started to walk away. Heard her footsteps behind me.
"I... might need your help, though." I sighed and stopped walking.
"Look, could you just make up your mind?" I said as I turned to face her. In the midday light of the sun I saw a young girl, maybe sixteen, dressed in what could only be properly described as tatters, holding in her right hand something that appeared to be the inside of those plasma globes that move around when you put your hands against them. Her thin face and delicate features were set in a determined gaze, but tears were welling in her eyes yet again.
"I'm scared of it. Scared to use it. Show me how." She clenched her fist and the plasma ball burst, tendrils of purple superheated gas scattering across the lot.
"Look, kid. I don't know how to control this either. That?" I pointed at the corpse that lay behind her. "That wasn't something I wanted. That's how I ended up..." I paused for a moment as Curdun Cay flashed against my retinas, figments of a shattered subconscious. "There, here, in the first place."
"Well," her eyes were locked on the ground between her ruined shoes now. The steadfastness had evaporated from her face. "Just let me come with you, then. Please." I stared coldly at her for a moment, arms crossed against my chest. Relaxed a bit with a long exhale. Motioned toward her.
"Fine. Let's go then." I started off down the alley without bothering to make sure she was following, but I could hear her footsteps behind me, crunching against the loose gravel that was scattered about.
"What's your name?" She asked in an effort to pierce the stifling silence.
"Aaron," I stated after a moment. Turned to look at her over my shoulder. "Yours?"
"Lexi," she chimed with an audible smile, as though nobody had bothered to ask that question in years. Her eyes brightened with a subtle violet hue around her irises, pulsating dimly in the shadows of the alleyway. I smiled at her automatically, shaking my head and looking away in a weak attempt to hide it.
"Alright then, Lexi. We're on our way to go perpetrate some breaking and entering," I said cooly with a thin smile, marching into the midday sun.