All Roads Lead Home
The morning was long past and lunch time was just ending yet the bags under the tall man's eyes seemed more cumulative than the stresses of today.
"So, you're looking for work and you're eighteen?" He asked while easing himself into one of two folding chairs behind a cracked plastic fold out table.
Ray stood under the canopy of the tarp strung up as a stretch of shade against the trailer near the edge of the worksite. The dark haired balding man the workers had pointed out to him to stared up into Ray's hood. Ray's stitches were taken out of his face a couple days back and he was adjusting somewhat to the questioning about his scars but never the stares.
"Are you doing alright?"
Ray turned his head and peeked back at the van he was living in since Karin and her hero contacts set him up with his ride, a provisional license, and a MIRIS stipend before he left Boston.
"Sir, I'm not going to lie to you. Ahh, I'm seventeen but turning eighteen real soon. I got hurt a couple weeks back during the -" he gestured an arm at the scene around them. "I lost my grandma and my home. I hear that the high schools are opening up at some point so I definitely want to finish my last year so for now I'd like to work part time so I can help rebuild and still have time to figure things out."
The man pulled his glasses off his face and wiped the sweat from out of his eyes with a handkerchief.
"That sounds like a fairly level headed plan. Most kids in your situation would probably still be mourning and maybe taking advantage of the chaos to - to blow off steam."
Ray stuck a hand under his hood and scratched at the knobby red bumps on his forehead that bothered him more than ever. Gauze and a sweatband covered it up but did nothing for the itching or their enflamed condition.
"My Grandfather passed away months ago, but he was working as a foreman remodeling some of the shops on the boardwalk. He taught me some basic masonry, a chikki bit of carpentry, and generally how to work as part of a crew. Don't matter if I'm putting up drywall or just running around helping clear hazards or a gofer on the worksite passing water around, getting materials. I'm all I got left in this world so my tomorrow is what I make of it, Mr. Hebert."
"Huh. Well would that make you- you're Ernesto Alcaraz's grandson?"
"Fla- Ray Alcaraz, sir," he nodded. Relief washed over him that someone still remembered his grandfather other than himself.
"You're a lot bigger than he described, but he was pretty proud of how you doted on your grandmother when he worked late. Least that was what I remember from Union meetings in passing."
"Most guys aren't as big as Abuelo, he's - he was built like a mix of Santa and a wrestler", Ray said with a rare smile on his face. He felt the pull of the scars at the edges of his mouth.
Danny Hebert stood up from the chair and chuckled to himself, "Yeah, he certainly was larger than life. Hmm, I'm concerned about your recovery. What happened wasn't that long ago but - Okay, I'm going to talk to a couple of other worksites closer to the possible schools they're opening and get you setup with a position, sound fair?"
"Muy bien, Mr Hebert."
"Danny. You can call me Danny."
Ray clutched the side of his face through the hood, "Ahh, no no no, gramps would've let me catch a shoe upside my head if he caught me doing that."
"Alright, alright. I can respect that. Shelter is a bit iffy in the city, but word is they're opening up in certain districts so if-"
"Oh, I'm kind of doing the van life thing til I get started working for a bit. I'll just park somewhere near cops or capes. Ya know somewhere well lit, no worries."
"Sure, just be safe. Too many of you young people are getting exposed to those gangs and the Parahumans. Hmm, we have first aid stations if you need to change any bandages at any of the work sites, fyi."
"Cool. Thanks for that. I'll come check back tomorrow if that's alright. And thanks again, Mr. Hebert."
Ray shook Danny's hand and then headed back to his van. It looked pretty beat up on the outside, most of the body panels had faded and scuffed purple paint, and the rack for the green and white emergency lights was all the evidence left of it's previous owners, yet it ran well for it's age. The beaten exterior was all the better to blend into the rough shape of the city. Ray climbed into the driver's side, the foil sunshade still blocking the windshield.
From his hoodie pocket he pulled a tube of ointment. He slid his hood back, removed the sweat band and gauze, and liberally applied the ointment to his forehead. When he finished he wrenched back on a lever on the side of the seat and reclined back. He'd nap through the heat of the day then find a spot near the local PRT headquarters to hole up for the night.
~~x
A sharp rap on his window woke him. Framed by the window was Danny motioning for him to lower his window. Ray pulled his hood back up and lowered the window, "Hey, Mr Hebert, everything good?"
"Well, son, good news, I talked to the foreman of a crew who's putting together some portable buildings as a temporary Arcadia High annex, it'd be close to downtown and the PRT. It'd get you cash in pocket, and you could see about enrolling once they get ahold of some teachers."
"Oh that's - that's pretty perfect. I appreciate it, sir."
Danny pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and passed it to Ray.
"You sure you're up for helping mix concrete and setting up fencing?"
"Ahh, I had a bit of a drive from Boston and I just needed to get away from the hospitals and all that. I'd rather feel like I'm accomplishing something than - yeah."
Danny rested a hand on the side of the van, "Well my number is on the paperwork there, just talk to Will, or Mr Ditko to you, he's the foreman on that project. You need any vouching for once that site is done, I can get you work again, alright?"
Ray nodded assent, "Thanks, sir."
"Suns going down, better head nearer downtown the heroes patrol that area still', Danny stepped back and Ray started the van and drove off. He had lessons under his Grandfather, driving his truck up and down the boardwalk helping distribute water to the workers and helping move supplies to different storefronts.
The drive through the water logged portions of the city was perilous in the dying light of day. Some of the less welcoming residents in the area chucked broken concrete at his van trying to get Ray to veer off into an accident. Other areas were blocked off with building wreckage and old cars, gang tags appeared here and there marking out territory. Some buildings had residents on rooftops guarding small, shuttered businesses, many rooftop sentinels openly brandishing rifles and other small arms.
Shadow Miser had mentioned he'd be revisiting the area soon to help with paperwork for new minor capes triggered but uninterested in joining the Wards program under the PRT. Sea Bunny warned him about the Merchants, a gang of drug pushers and scavengers who were taking advantage of the gang war and disaster befallen Brockton Bay, who might prey on the young Rogues. Ray would have to see if they'd be a bigger issue with the schools much like the ABB had been recruiting from the entire Asian population of the city.
Ray resisted the urge to scout some of the walled off sections of town, instead he made quick notes of cross streets to check later in the daylight. By the time he made it downtown he'd driven into what his grandfather would call a helluva ruckus. PRT vans, green and white lights perpetually flaring, made something of a blockade that kept a couple other drivers from advancing onto the scene. His own vehicle was waved through by a fully armored PRT officer and directed by another to pull over as part of a blockade of another cross street.
Ray did not know what the fuck to do other than to take a roll of gauze from his hoodie pocket and just start wrapping his face up like a cheap mummy costume. By the time he tied off and tucked the ends of the bandages away two hard strikes on the driver's side panel caused a cold feeling in his chest. With a long exhale he pulled his hood back up and stepped out of his van.
An armored PRT officer took a step back and leveled the barrel of their rifle at his midsection. Ray raised his hands up as he kicked his van door shut behind him.
"It's cool. I'm cool. I just - I just did like I was-"
"You're not local and your Van has seen better days, need your name and who sent you", a woman's voice addressed him from behind the mirror faced helmet.
"Ahh, Boston and I-I-I shit, just came to help. I mean it. I'm not PRT but - Shadow Miser sent me. Eh?"
"Oh, one of Youth Guards? Huh, fuck it, this city is rife with trouble. I'm Officer Innocenti, first on scene until Protectorate shows up, and if you can help we'd appreciate it...?"
"Ra- ah no, almost got me, lady. It's - I'm Dogfight."
"Dogfight? Like you fly like a fighter jet?"
"More like 'it's not the size of the dog in the fight but size of the fight in the dog'... plus I move really fast. Anyways, so what's the deal?"
An unholy roar answered his question as a seven foot tall figure slammed out past the double doors of a boarded up restaurant. The fetid stench of stagnant water and rotting food permeated the air as it barreled forth into a pair of PRT officers dragging a third who was leaving a bloody smear across the sidewalk leading up to the restaurant. The figure snatched up the wounded officer, opened its mouth, unhinged it's jaw, revealing at least two rows of sharp teeth.
"Drop it!" The officer yelled before lifting her rifle and discharging a three round burst into the side of the monstrous figure. It dropped the officer as the bullets bounced off it's body. Other officers trained their rifles on her target and fired controlled bursts forcing the figure to retreat into the restaurant once again.
"The fuck is that?" Ray made a face of neither disgust nor surprise but a grimace visible even through his bandages.
"That sonuvabitch", she answered as she changed to a magazine with 'Live Rounds' stenciled in small yellow lettering" - is The Negalodon. Cannibal cape that styles itself like a discount Slaughterhouse Nine reject. Fast, flies, keen sense of smell, and can blend into darkness. Not particularly strong or durable, but can ignore pain for short periods of time."
"And do that mouth thing straight outta my nightmares?"
"Yeah, and you have to distract that nightmare until we get enough containment foam on site", she checked over her gear and grabbed a canister with 'Smoke' stenciled on its side.
Ray looked out at the PRT officer still bleeding out on the sidewalk, another pair of officers carefully walked over to the injured man with rifles trained on the double doors.
"Puta madre, I really don't remember that thing ever being in the city, lady. But I'll help, that's why I came back home."
"Well enough reminiscing, go get in there, hero. We'll provide back up... and welcome back to Brockton Bay."
~~x