Back in the city of Metroville, a certain large-nosed, gray-haired government agent was finishing some paperwork regarding Spike, a superhero who had only recently been registered by the NSA. He was in the process of signing his name at the foot of yet another official-looking document when his phone rang. He looked up from his papers and picked up the receiver.
"This is Rick Dicker," he said. The person on the other line didn't respond immediately. Dicker heard some indistinct muttering—perhaps the phone was being handed over to someone besides the person who had dialed—and then someone with a very husky voice spoke began to speak.
"Is this Rick Dicker?" the husky voice asked.
"Yes it is. How can I help you?"
"Well, you see, I'm the head of the Clearwater, California police department, and one of my officers thinks he's found a person that you might be interested in meeting."
Dicker was surprised. "May I speak with the officer?"
"Yes, of course." There was a bit of mumbling as the phone was passed to the said officer.
"Hello," the new voice, a bit less husky than that of the police chief's, said, "A few weeks ago, I found an article in the national news saying that several adult superheroes had requested the privilege of training young superheroes, and that you were in charge of assigning them."
"That's true," Dicker said. "Do you have some young supers in your area that you think should be apprenticed?"
"Yes, that's why I called. You see, there's this group of kids that hang around my quarter of the city, and tonight, I saw one of them do something really strange."
Dicker's interest piqued. "Tell me about it."
"Well, there's not much to tell. I found five kids fighting in an alley, and when I confronted them, one of ran toward the back of the alley and jumped clear over the wall, which was at least ten feet high. And it wasn't just an incredible bit of luck, because she came sailing right back over the fence to grab one of her friends, and hauled him over too. No human could have jumped that high."
"I see," Dicker said. "You didn't get a chance to talk to her, did you?"
"No," the officer said, "But I think I do have an idea of who this girl is. We've gotten tons of reports about a group of kids allegedly living in an abandoned apartment building, and we think this girl may be one of them."
Dicker frowned. "Why have you never followed up those leads before, so that the kids could be put into foster homes?"
"We have followed up on the leads, but every time we check the place where they're supposed to live, they aren't there."
"I see."
"Well, anyway, are these super-kids still in high demand?"
"Yes, they are. Even if the girl you saw isn't really a super, I'd like to meet her. Do you have any idea of how you might be able to find her?"
"Yeah, because something just occurred to me a minute ago; every time we've checked that apartment where people have said the kids live, it's been during the day. Maybe they mostly stay there at night."
Dicker nodded, momentarily forgetting that the officer on the other end of the line couldn't see him. "Will you try finding them sometime in the near future?"
"Yeah. In fact, I'll go tonight."
"That's fine. I'll take a plane early tomorrow. I'll find out the truth about this kid, and if she really is a super, I'll find someone to apprentice her to."
"Alright. Thank you, Mr. Dicker."
"Good night."
Dicker hung up the phone and slid all of the papers on his desk into a manila folder. Spike was just going to have to wait.
Meanwhile, the all of the members of the Little Pack really were in apartment where they were reputed to live, and all of them were asleep, except for Aisling. She was tired, but her mind wasn't permitting her to sleep. She was still a bit shaken from her encounter with Kevin.
Kevin had long been in the habit of tormenting Aisling and her charges, but before today he had limited himself to crude remarks and infantile punishments like shoving and pinching. His aggression seemed to be escalating, though, as he had never tried to attack Patrick before. Normally, Kevin was mortally afraid of Patrick, because he had a general phobia of dogs. The fact that Kevin had tried to tackle someone he had previously had a deathly fear of frightened Aisling more than the fact that he had lifted her off the ground and made as if to crush her in his arms, which had never happened before either. Another thing that worried Aisling was the fact that Joey had been following Joaquin earlier in the day. This was the first time that Kevin had given some kind to warning prior to his attack.
Aisling rolled over on to her side and stared into the absolute darkness of the room she lay in. She could hear Vasilisa and Bell-Bell breathing on the other side of the room. The steadiness with which they drew their breaths calmed her down a bit. She rolled over again so that she was facing the wall. Stop thinking about Kevin. Stop thinking about Kevin. She took several slow, deliberate breaths and flopped onto her back. Don't worry about it too much. . . He was just really angry about something today. . . That's all. . . That's all. . .
Aisling dreamed that she was sitting on the roof of a house, with her face tilted toward the sky. The sky was filled with clouds, and although Aisling couldn't feel any wind, the clouds were rushing across the sky with remarkable speed, and they kept changing shapes. One looked like an open book, then a lamp, then a wishbone, then a snake. Aisling took her eyes of that cloud and focused on another one. It started out as a lizard, but changed to a paintbrush, then a banana, then a necklace, and finally a halo. Aisling looked away from that cloud and chose another one. This one was a rose, a cat, a pillow, a candy, and an owl before it disappeared on the far horizon. In the clouds, Aisling saw a horse, a car, a castle, a bridge, a daisy, a heart, a waterfall, and a whole assortment of other things. She marveled at the way the way the clouds artfully altered their shapes, but, very suddenly, she was disturbed by a great thump. The thump came from below her, and it was so forceful that it made her bounce on the roof she was perched on. Another thump immediately followed the first, and a third, and a fourth, in rapid succession.
Aisling jerked upright, her heart pounding. Even in her wakeful state, the thumping hadn't stopped. Aisling felt as if she were paralyzed; the thumping was someone pounding on the door that they used to get into the apartment. Several different instincts told her what to do, and, of course, every one of them conflicted. She should stay where she was, and hope the pounder went away, but at the same time she should scramble to wake up her Pack and try to move them somewhere safe, while she should also shake them awake to prepare them to fight off the intruder, while at the same time she should formulate some kind of brilliant plan to trick the intruder into making a fool of himself and leaving shame-faced, never to return. Presently, she did none of these things, because Janie had also woken up.
"Ash. . ?" she whimpered, sounding as if she were holding back tears. Aisling crawled across the room to Janie as Vasilisa woke up too.
"What's going on?" she asked, sounding only a bit more collected than Bella-Jane. Aisling put an arm around each of the girls and pulled them both close. The thumping didn't stop.
The high-pitched whining of a dog came from the mouth of the room, followed a panicked whisper from Joaquin.
"W-what should we do?"
Bella-Jane began to sob. Aisling still couldn't speak. She felt a cold wet nose bump against her cheek and a warm tongue brush across her face, and the feeling was so tender that it made her cry along with Bella-Jane. Patrick whined again. The atmosphere may have been dark as pitch, but Aisling could almost see the fear that emulated from her usually brave companions. The thumping continued, but was suddenly replaced by the crunching of a saw eating away at wood. Aisling's heart nearly stopped. The intruders were sawing the door apart.