The Job: Chapter 4

Unable to sleep, I changed clothes and left keeping buildings between me and the man with Glasses. Giving a quick look around the corner checking to see if they were watching, and not seeing anyone, I made my way to the Boardwalk. Glasses looked like a desk man. I'd give him time to send his people to where ever they were needed, then come back.

A couple of hours, two large coffees and a pastry later, I found myself back. This time hidden from any eyes that might be looking.

Glasses' car was parked inside the fenced lot next to a long building, proclaiming it to be home of the 201st Dock Workers Union. There were a handful of other cars in the lot as well.

I didn't see any of the labor workers from earlier but didn't move in yet. Instead, I took my time. Circling around the yard, checking. I found a few of them, or maybe new ones that showed up later. Some were doing clean up, others going from building to building. I wasn't sure what they were doing, but I easily noticed that each of them had their eyes looking outward to the surrounding area as they did it.

Was that for me, or natural paranoia?

Either way, it created a minor annoyance that took me another half hour to overcome. Once I was sure no one would see me enter, I slipped through a break in the chain link fence heading to Glasses' car. Reaching it unnoticed, I checked the door finding it locked.

Damn it. I was way too unprepared for this. Worse, this was exactly how a thief got caught. Leaping without thinking. I knew better than this.

Giving the yard one last look, I retraced my steps pulling out my phone once I was clear of the Union building.

I needed a guy in the know, or even maybe a sympathetic supplier. I didn't have either here and I didn't bring anything with me aside from the armor and a few multi use inconspicuous things. This wasn't my city and the job was supposed to be a simple burglary, not research. The only resource I did have was Jess.

And wasn't that just a depressing thought.

At the moment Jess was either sleeping, or working their day job. Jess didn't say which it was, but they did mention they wouldn't be available until after three at the earliest.

Frowning, I put away my unused phone. Fine. Starting from scratch it was.

Another change in clothes, makeup, and my sunglasses later I left Jess's safe house for the shopping districts of Brockton Bay. Hardware, sporting goods, knick-knack stores as well as several others drifted around me as I looked for what I needed. In the end I had a backpack carefully packed with several improvised tools and necessities. Not enough, and most of them I probably wouldn't even need, but I needed to cover as many possible scenarios as I could think of.

My best find however came not from the stores but from a tow truck I passed after I decided to head back. While the driver was distracted talking to a policemen trying to figure out which wrecks in the accident was the one he was supposed to pick up, I stole his slim jim.

By the time I made it back I was exhausted, frustrated at how long everything took, and more than slightly angry at Jess for being unavailable. Which was unfair of me, but I was tired and somehow in my cranky haze, it seemed perfectly reasonable to blame Jess for my obsession with trying to figure out who Glasses was.

My persistence was rewarded with a satisfying click when my procured slim jim popped open the lock on Glasses' car door. Getting in quickly I opened the glove box taking the handful of papers inside.

Glasses was Danny Hebert. His registration was due next month and apparently frequented a street downtown for varying times between noon and two judging by the many parking slips and one parking ticket I found. A quick check through a street map app on my phone showed the addresses on the slips were parking garages while the ticket looked like it was a from a meter he didn't pay enough to hold.

The rest of the car interior was barren. No mail, bills, magazines, fast food wrapper, empty cups or cans anywhere. There wasn't even a phone charger and he didn't smoke judging by the change sitting in his ashtray instead of cigarette butts.

Unlocking the trunk, I exited the car making sure to relock it and closed the door before moving to the back. The trunk space was as barren as the rest of the car. Just a jack and a four way. Moving them out of the way I stowed my pack and slipped inside closing the lid.

As I got as comfortable I as I could in such a cramped space, I checked the time. Eleven thirty. He'd be leaving soon for downtown. Maybe whatever he was doing there would shed light on the situation. If nothing else a parking garage offered plenty of privacy to confront him to get answers.

Adjusting my hoodie I waited. Feeling my eyes droop despite my discomfort.

XxXGambitXxX

Groaning in pain I tried to make sense of why I was lying in such an awkward position before remembering. A hiss of my power forced the latch to unlock raising the trunk lid. Awkwardly climbing out despite protests made by a stiff body I took note of several things.

First, this wasn't a parking garage. This wasn't even downtown. It looked like a suburb. Second, I was asleep a lot longer than a nap would account for. It was pitch dark except from the light coming from the street lamps. A quick check on my phone showed that not only was it late, but very late. Almost midnight. I'd also missed two calls from Jess, and one from Penny.

Well, that went well. Could have been worse. He could have gotten a flat and found a fire eyed girl sleeping in his trunk. That would have been awkward to explain. At least the night was warmer than it was last night. It was almost tolerable. Sighing I took off my shades putting them in my pack. Slinging it over my shoulder I closed the trunk looking around again.

Older neighborhood though not in what I would think of as being in a bad area despite that. In it's heyday I bet it was kinda nice. From what I could see some of the houses still looked fairly kept up, but most weren't.

Danny's wasn't. The lawn didn't have that loved look to it. Yet it wasn't completely left fallow either. More like something someone cut down only when it got too bad, but not enough to be someone's pride. A picked fence that at one time might have been whitewashed looked pretty rough but intact. Empty mailbox out front.

Then I saw the house.

It wasn't that I didn't see it before. I just didn't take in the details. When I did, that feeling hit me again. Just as strong as when I saw Danny this morning, but worse. This didn't feel like a sucker punch so much as free falling, but not.

My feet moved of their own accord bringing me closer as if it was the only thing that existed. Reaching for the post of the porch, I hesitated to actually touch. Some part of me afraid that if I did it would disappear, or I'd wake up and find out all this was some kind of fever dream or something. I couldn't tell which was worse. That I'd suddenly wake up and find this was all a dream, or that it wasn't, and that the only ghost on this street, was me.

The post was unyielding and rough. Hadn't been repainted in some time and was starting to show it's age. Several bits flaked off in my hand as I slowly slid my hand along it. Swallowing, I continued up the porch pausing once I reached the door before turning back.

I stepped over the third step, bypassing it without thinking. Kneeling I examined it easily seeing it's fragile state. If I would have tried to put my weight on that step, I'd have broken it as well as stumbled and fell.

How did I know that before I even looked?

My gut clenched as a horrible question flashed across my mind.

Was this what being mastered felt like?

I'd never been mastered before but I'd heard stories. Some from others, a few from online. Those that involved teenage girls were...disturbing. Then, there was Devin. The self styled Rat King.

He could do something like this. It was how he kept control over the Street Rats. I never figured it out, but Marcus said that to him, Rat King's power made his head fuzzy and that the things he said or asked them to do were perfectly reasonable things. The effect never lasted longer than an hour, but usually that was enough. By then, they had already done whatever it was he sent them to do. Or they were in the middle of it and it was too late to back out.

The less thought about the few girls in the gang, the better. I did what I could for them when I was there, or when they let me. But there were times I wasn't and most of them didn't want my help. They did what they did to survive, and no part of me faults them for it, but that didn't make it right.

That was half the reason for me leaving. Rat King didn't care about any of us, just that we did what he wanted us to do and that he was well fed and 'happy'. His power never worked on me for some reason and he knew it. Despite that he kept me around because I was useful. Then one day he just got tired asking me to do things he wanted and being told no. Then tried to make me.

Was this Danny Hebert a master like Devin? Was that way I kept feeling like this? Why the feeling was so much stronger here, or when I saw him than the other two times it happened?

'It would certainly explain what I'm doing at this fucker's house at midnight for god knows why…'

As much sense as that explanation made, it still didn't feel right. What sort of power makes you nostalgic for an ocean view? Nor did it explain the girl scout badges.

I still couldn't risk ruling it out yet.

Looking back to the door I decided I wasn't going to get answers out here. This wasn't how I originally wanted to do this, but I was here now and I wasn't leaving without answers. His door was locked, but that was fixed quickly and within moments I entered his kitchen.

The feeling persisted as I looked around. Most of the things in here were familiar, but like every other time I felt it, it was without context. It felt like I knew this place, but there was no reason for it. I didn't recognize anything around me as being something I'd personally seen before. No flashes of images or anything like I'd read about in books or seen on TV. It all just felt familiar for no reason.

Lost half within my own mind I missed the sounds of approaching footsteps until someone stepped into the open arch that separated the kitchen from the living room.

"You," the figure said from the deep shadows around him. Soft at first in surprise before growing steadily angrier as he continued. "You're that cape from this morning. What do you want? Why are you in my house?

While my mouth tried to find words to describe a feeling even I couldn't understand, my brain managed to piece together that maybe this wasn't a master effect at least.

When I didn't answer, the figure I assumed to be Danny snarled, "Look, I don't care who you work for. I'll tell you the same thing I told the others. I don't care what you want, the 201st is not for sale at any price for any reason! We're honest people trying to make a living in city you bastards are choking to death. Now leave us alone and get out!"

His rant ended with a shout and the lights suddenly being turned on. Squinting against the glare, I realized that I was right and the man yelling at me was Danny Hebert. Dressed in a pair of sweatpants, an old t-shirt, and clutching a baseball bat in one hand. The other lowering from the light switch.

He blinked as he got his first close look at me. Angry eyes dancing over me before locking on my face. Danny's entire countenance changed immediately, as if he'd seen a ghost. Gone was the defensive posture, his hard grip on the bat loosening even as his face drained of all color. His breathing troubled.

"Tay… oh my god, Taylor? Is, is that really you?"

I didn't answer. Didn't know how to answer. He called me Taylor like it was supposed mean something. Like…

Like he knew me.

But that was impossible. No one knew me. No one...

In the handful of seconds that pass in silence, Danny's eyes filled, spilling down his cheeks. He stepped forward, bat falling from his hand. Arms extended as if to embrace me.

It was enough to kick me out of my stupor. Before he knew what was happening, I pulled one of my cards holding it before me. My power erupted in a high pitched cackle. Light from the volatile object in my hand vying with the over head lamp illuminating the room in a shifting haze of colors.

Danny recoiled, freezing in place.

Until now, I hadn't really entertained the idea that maybe this place was familiar because it was where I'd come from. But as the old man seriously strained to hold back his tears, and that sense of familiarity failed to evaporate, I began thinking that just… maybe…

"Sorry, I don't know any Taylor," I spoke for the first time trying to keep my voice level. "The only name I've ever known is Renée. Renée LeBeau."

My voice seemed to trip something in him. He gasped at my first word, but his face seemed to sink into itself as I spoke.

"No… Renée? It… but!" Danny stuttered. "You look just like your mother. Or… her mother at least. Exactly how I thought she would look when she grew up. You… you've got to be her. You've got to! Look..."

I shifted my arm, "Be very careful about what you are about to do, mon cher."

"No, look just let me show you something! It's just right over here. Please?" the older man practically begged.

If this guy was trying to trick me, then he was either a world class actor or a cape with superhuman bullshitting. The only alternative was...

"Alright," I reluctantly agreed. "Slowly."

Keeping his hands in sight Danny slowly moved into the living room keeping his motions obvious. I followed a bit slower but kept him in sight. He picked up a piece of paper from a lamp table, handing it to me.

It was my picture. Or, at least there was a picture of someone who looked incredibly like I did a few years ago. Next to it, one that was pretty damn close to what I actually looked like. Other than how I styled my hair straight and my eyes of course.

It was a missing persons flyer. It looked fresh, like it had been printed an hour ago. From where I was standing I could see a stack of them. Missing since July 09. Taylor Hebert. Contact details for Danny Hebert were listed. His work phone, house phone, email and address. A plea written for the world to see, begging for information.

'09. I woke up in New Orleans that year.

"Do, do you remember Kurt?" Danny asked me. "Kurt and Lacey?"

"...no." I choked, feeling a lump form in my throat as evidence stacked before my eyes.

"Emma then? She… she was your best friend. Practically your sister. Here look!" he said, pointing to a slightly vapid looking pre-teen redhead. A kid that looked just like me standing next to her. Arms around each others shoulders, huge smiles on their faces.

I shook my head, unable to answer.

"Your mother…? You couldn't have forgotten her. Annette? She… always called you little owl..."

"I-I don't remember anything from before," I admitted slowly before forcing myself to stop, licking my dry lips nervously, as I came closer and closer to believing that I was standing in front of my actual father.

And that was dangerous because there was no possible way he could be. Everyone lied. Everyone had an angle and this wasn't the first time someone claimed to be my father with the intent to control or use me. Two Mauls made that mistake.

Once.

I'd lived without a past for as long as I've been me. This, this couldn't be what it looked like. People didn't…

Ruthlessly clamping down on my rampant emotions I backed away. Both from the fliers, and Danny. I kept my empowered card in hand, but lowered it looking into the distraught man's eyes. "I… don't know what you expect me to say. I don't remember. Not you, not your Annette or any of the others you mentioned.

"I didn't mean to come here like this. I don't even know what it was that made me track you down. I thought you might have been some cape who'd managed to use a master power on me or something. I-I didn't expect anything like this..."

For two years I lived with the fact that if I had parents then they had either abandoned me or were dead in whatever accident that took my memories. I'd left them behind. I had to. Life didn't give second chances. Being too focused on my past would have blinded to me to the present. I tried to find out, even went so far as going to find the notorious thinker Creole Bennie. A man rumored as being able to find out anything, about anyone. If you met his price. Desperate enough to do whatever he wanted if his power could restore my memories, I went to see him. Whatever it took to answer the question of who I was.

Didn't work. Like Devin, his power didn't work on me. That day I forced myself to accept the truth. I wasn't going to remember. Whatever happened, happened. Nothing was going to fix it, nothing was going to change it. Whoever I used to be was gone.

And right then and there I decided if all I had was Renée's life, then I would live it by my own rules. Live my life my way. I would embrace all that life had to give. I would fill the blanks in with good music, good food, good people and exciting work. It was going to be a life of bold living because I wasn't going to hide from what was inside me. It was the only thing I truly knew.

"Taylor…"

"Renée," I corrected, breaking out of inner thoughts and bringing my attention back to Danny. "My name is Renée."

"Okay, Renée," No idea how long I stood there lost in my own world, but Danny had taken the time to get his own head straight. "There's a simple test that will tell both of us the truth."

I narrowed my eyes. Two Mauls suggested tests too. Then again, Two Mauls wasn't this convincing.

"A simple paternity test. Painless and easy."

"Then what?" I softly challenged. "I come and live here? Be your daughter? Live happily ever after?"

"Yes."

I blinked.

"If you are my daughter, no matter what name you use, if you are my Taylor, then this is your home." Danny said. Chuckling weakly as he continued, "I can't promise the happy ever after part though. I think we have a ways to go before that's something we can grab for."

I snorted, giving him a weak smile of my own edging toward the door. "Life doesn't work that way."

"Hey, wait…"

I brought my card back up, still moving slowly toward the door. "I'm sorry, but I really think I should be leaving."

"Just, stop, please!" Danny begged staying where he was. I bit my lip, nodding to him to finish what he had to say.

"I-I won't stop you. Just, think about it? If you are my Taylor, we've lost so much time together already. Can either of us risk losing any more?"

My eyes drifted to the framed photo he showed me earlier. A picture of a husband, wife, daughter, and his daughters friend at a park.

"Your daughter, Taylor?" I asked hesitantly. "She was happy, no?"

Danny nodded, fresh tears threatening to fall. "Yes, we were happy."

I opened the door, pausing at the threshold, "I'll…think about it."

"That's all I can ask," Danny whispered. "Taylor, Renée?"

"Yes?" I answered just as quietly.

"Either way you decide, could you, promise me to at least come back and tell me? Personally? Please?"

His voice was so raw, I couldn't help answering before I'd even thought it through, "oui."

Stepping through the door I quickly put as much distance between the house and myself as I could without running. My hands were shaking so badly I almost missed grabbing the strap of my backpack I didn't' even know I left outside.

What sort of ridiculous coincidences needed to happen for me to end up in this town and spot this particular guy?

Hand halfway through my hair, I stilled.

There were no coincidences. That was one of the first lessons Jess taught me. There was only shit that happened and I either knew the reasons or I didn't.

Jess was there that first horrid week of my existence. Jess found me weak, starving. Jess fed me, clothed me, taught me what I needed to know to get by on my own. Yeah, Jess made me work my ass off for every single thing, but Jess still did it.

The same Jess that asked me to come to Brockton Bay. To do a job that Jess didn't even need my help to do. I spotted Danny from Jess's safe house. A safe house that Jess set up right across the street from where Danny worked.

The still night around me was broken from the hum of my power cackling along the sidewalk, and in my own furious hiss, "Jess."