Chapter 33 — Dry Spell / flood

The first week of June was historically one of the hottest weeks of the year in Graceville. The typically fair climate had a tendency to become unbearable in June, mostly for those who were so accustomed to the cooler months. Those coming in from hotter climates usually thought even June was fine, but this year was proving to be different.

June 1st kicked down the door and wreaked havoc—the hottest day in Graceville's recorded history, with a burning high of 107 degrees Fahrenheit. That was not the worst part, however. Accompanying the heat was a suffocating dryness in the air. While humidity typically made a hot day worse, the dry weather resulted in a number of fires throughout the area.

June 2nd was even worse. The temperature dropped a little, but so did the moisture in the air. Mercy had to cancel their plans for the day, since she could not step out of her house without blood gushing out of her nose. Those sensitive to the dryness were suffering, and by about noon there were suspicions rising that this was not simply just a hot and dry day.

While some were speculating that this was the effect of global warming, most were familiar with the criminal climate of the town to presume that something else was happening. The announcement came at two o'clock, interrupting the news report on yet another fire outside the town.

Those listening to the announcement on the radio missed out on the incredible sight of the speaker. Yuri relayed to the 12th the burning image the television broadcast provided: a dark-skinned, shirtless, muscular man sitting behind a desk, a skull tattooed on his shaved his head, his eyes covered up by a red blindfold.

"Residents of Graceville, by now you must have concluded that the change in your town's climate is more than a mere happenstance," he said in a rich, succulent voice. "I am a NEXT with the ability to infinitely absorb moisture. I am Dry Spell, and I will continue draining moisture out of the air until I receive one million dollars in cash. I have given my location to your mayor, but if I sense the slightest whiff of police intervention, I will suck this place dry. If you feel so inclined, please let your local government know whether you wish for them to surrender the money, or if you would much rather suffer unto death. Once I have the cash, I will leave and never return to your town. That is all. I trust that the right decision will be made by 7 o'clock this afternoon."

Five hours would decide the fate of the town, and that meant no time could be spared. The town's heroes had to somehow intervene without compromising the safety of the town. Not knowing how Dry Spell's powers worked, however, could prove disastrous. If he could simply drain the moisture from the air at will, and if he could do it quickly enough, simply appearing before him would be enough to force his hand. A terrible fate could befall the town before they could even lay a hand on him.

The 12th made the call to the mayor, and there was hardly a wait before he was able to speak with the top dog in Graceville's government. They spoke for a while, with Yuri nervously standing by, until a plan was formulated. It was risky, but it was the safest option they could take and still have justice be served.

They would not be able to jump in and stop Dry Spell's demands from being met. It was far too risky to approach him while he had the town hostage. He would be given one million dollars, but his departure would be carefully monitored. From there, the chase would begin. The police would not pursue, but they would give information to the 12th and Lunatic on Dry Spell's direction and speed. In order to get back the town's money and stop Dry Spell from attacking elsewhere, they would have to confront him at a safe distance from the town and bring him down.

Seven o'clock arrived, and the 12th was on standby and was seated on his Righteous Tsunami. Lunatic leaned against the motorcycle and forced to endure the wait with them. Finally, the word was given—from Graceville, Dry Spell was driving East. They would have to act quick to catch him, and after being told that they could disobey traffic laws this one time, Yomotsu sped off in the Righteous Tsunami and Lunatic took flight.

The people cheered them on in the streets, for they knew that their heroes would have something in mind to fix this situation. They would have found it unbelievable if this criminal could be allowed to go unpunished. After telling his partner the description of the vehicle, the 12th let Lunatic be his eyes in the sky.

About fifty miles out of town, they finally caught up with him. Lunatic exclaimed, "Dry Spell, your capture is imminent. Surrender and be spared our onslaught!" When the car continued, either defiantly or ignorantly, the 12th heard Lunatic ignite the road ahead, cutting off Dry Spell's escape route. He could either face them or drive off into the road, forcing the chase to continue. Fortunately, the car came to a screeching halt in front of the blue-green blaze.

The 12th parked the Righteous Tsunami nearby and ran toward the cornered culprit. He heard Lunatic drop to his feet on the other side of their target. The buddy of justice pointed ahead and exclaimed, "Dry Spell, you attempted to sabotage the welfare of the people of Graceville, but as expected, your wicked ways have left you here! I suppose you realize now that you have no choice but to surrender!"

Dry Spell, who Lunatic later described as wearing army pants and combat boots, first responded with a laugh and then said, "When have I ever had a choice…? But, regardless of that, you must be the 12th I have heard so much about. And I think I heard Lunatic with you? Was that you, yelling that nonsense before burning up the road? I am fairly certain that setting fire to public roads is against the law… Maybe you and I aren't that much different, hm?"

Lunatic responded, "Please, do not compare me with criminals such as yourself. I am here to bring you to justice, and I will repay whatever damages occur in the process. But are you willing to pay the price for your conduct?"

Dry Spell returned, "Go ahead, lock me up! Such is my fate, only I thought I might prolong that awful part of it a bit longer… But if I may have my pick, if you will allow me some freedom, I wish to fight the 12th alone. The idea of being betrayed by another NEXT is miserable enough, but the 12th and I can engage in a fairer fight… We both fight in darkness."

He rushed forward, but the 12th was ready. The hero of justice listened to the sound of Dry Spell's footsteps and moved aside when the punch was thrown. He got behind Dry Spell and struck him on the back of the head with his elbow. Dry Spell turned around in a fury, with such a quick recovery that the 12th was caught off guard, and punched his opponent square in the chest.

The 12th stepped back, recoiling from the blow, and removed all outside sounds. He paid precise attention to the sound of each of Dry Spell's movements. When he came in for another punch, the 12th seized the hand clenched fist and sent his foot toward Dry Spell's exposed side. His opponent, however, had other ideas; he seized the 12th's foot with his free hand and, with awful strength, twisted the 12th's foot.

Forced to release his hold on Dry Spell's fist, the 12th staggered back, feeling the burn on his leg. He pressed forward. He had to stay on the offensive. He sent a fist flying for Dry Spell's head, but the blow was caught, just as he had previously captured the opponent's fist. He threw his other fist, and that one was caught. Locked thusly, he became determined to overpower his opponent and throw him back.

Both the 12th and Dry Spell pushed against the other, forcing their weight into their arms and hands. They dug their heels in the dry earth, which steadily began to crumble more and more on Dry Spell's side. Suddenly, the 12th began to glow a faint blue—and he realized that his powers were suddenly activating as a defense mechanism.

"My powers," he muttered to himself "They're activating…!"

"Wait, you… You're a NEXT, too?" Dry Spell exclaimed, between his clenched teeth. "You are both traitors… You should understand my position… What sort of powers do you have?"

Dry Spell's foot finally slipped, and while attempting to regain his balance, he released his hold on the 12th. His opponent seized the moment. Reaching forward, the 12th placed his hand on Dry Spell's forehead and exclaimed, "This is my power!"

He poured a single thought into Dry Spell's head, and he felt his opponent shudder as it passed into his skull: a NEXT's powers can be used for righteous ends, not only wicked schemes. The 12th and Dry Spell both staggered back from each other, one weak from using his powers and the other weak from being the recipient of those powers.

"Ah… So you plant thoughts," Dry Spell murmured. "Too bad you did not tell me anything I didn't already know…"

The 12th was breathing heavily. In terms of hand-to-hand combat, his opponent was in far better physical condition. He knew that there was always a way for the righteous to win, but he was not sure how to be triumphant in this situation. He could always ask for Lunatic's help, but he felt that he should honor Dry Spell's request—even if, in theory, the request of someone who is unrighteous is devoid of worth.

"I have no choice," Dry Spell said. "I have been endowed with these powers, powers that can only destroy. Do you want to know how I held the town hostage? I held the town hostage by simply being there. I do not try to use my powers… Wherever I go, I drain the moisture out of the air. I am constantly draining water, draining life… What can I do about that? And yet, I fear death."

The 12th shook his head. "That is no excuse for your crimes... And if what you say is even true, what would do you intend to do with all of the money you steal?"

Dry Spell answered, "I will wander, as I am destined to do, and I will find outlets for it. Perhaps I will hand it over to other lost souls who I meet along the way, or perhaps I will simply drop money along ghetto streets. The money… I simply ask for the money, because it fulfills the role of the criminal that I have been molded for. At least this much can be said: by creating misfortune for other people, perhaps I can help them see the precious value in their everyday lives. Perhaps that is my role in the world—and for that reason, I won't allow myself to be detained in a jail cell."

He suddenly let out a deep, rippling laugh. "But don't you see the futility? If you actually put me in your jail, there will be no moisture left in your town! I will keep draining, simply by being there!"

"Then I guess I'll have to give you something to drain right now, instead!"

A third voice had joined the conversation, and it was not the voice of the nearby Lunatic. The voice was instantly recognizable to the 12th; Anemone had spoken. No sooner had she spoken did she act.

"Another NEXT, here to prevent me from living the life I have been destined to live? Come now, this hardly seems necessa—"

The sound of Dry Spell's voice was drowned out by a gushing of water. It took a moment for the 12th to properly assess the situation, but then the startling reality was apprehended: Anemone was using her NEXT power over water to fuel Dry Spell's unquenchable thirst. Such a strong rush of water was leaving him in a state of ecstasy in which he was unable to properly act. She was buying them time, but the constant supply of water would run out eventually. Unlike Dry Spell, her powers required effort and energy on the part of the user.

Stepping forward, the 12th knew what he had to do. "Dry Spell," the hero said, hovering over him. "When you wake up, you will have a new start. Learn the way of righteousness, and you will find a purpose that will bring happiness not only to the people you help, but to yourself as well." He then sent his opponent into an unconscious slumber with a careful strike.

Dry Spell's body was gently lowered, limp, onto the earth. The 12th then glanced up, to where Anemone would have been standing. She had ceased the use of her powers.

"Anemone—are you alone, or are you working with others?"

He heard Lunatic walk over to them. The 12th realized that watching from the sidelines must have been difficult for his partner.

Anemone paused before answering, "Bryce Wayne brought me here."

Before the 12th could stammer out another question, he heard a car door shut. Anemone drove off, and there was no question that now was not the time to give chase.

Lunatic said quietly, "We can interrogate her another time… Doubtless she will join us in our next fight. But what shall we do with this poor NEXT?"

The 12th nodded. "Fly him to a place where his powers can be put to use… Do you remember those reports of flooding in the towns along the river?"

"Right, that was just on the news a few days ago," Lunatic murmured. He scooped up Dry Spell and rose to his feet. "Yomotsu… Excellent thinking."

Lunatic took to the skies again, and as the 12th climbed onto the Righteous Tsunami a minute later, he thought of that other time Lunatic was flying off, carrying someone away. He wondered if Bryce Wayne would have survived, if he could have absorbed water like Dry Spell could. He knew there was no way that the faux Batman was still alive. He had to tell himself that was impossible.

"you weren't joking when you said you would dress for the occasion," she said.

she bent down and touched her the front of her shoes with her fingertips. she held the position long enough to stretch her back, and then she eased herself back up. she raised her arms above her head and interlocked her fingers.

"i never joke," he said.

she reached up and scratched under her left eye, next to her tiny black mole.

"but seriously, of all people—you have a tracksuit?" she shook her head. she was facing ahead now.

"you have said before that i am a mysterious person," he said. "that is what is so attractive about me, right?"

she paused long enough to take a few deep breaths. "i knew that would go straight to your head. for the record, you're not attractive."

"oh? then if i'm not attractive, why on earth do you say the things you say to me?"

"i must just have bad taste," she said.

she tugged at the red collar of her white short-sleeved shirt.

"we should probably start running, as i believe that is why you said i should meet you here today," he said.

she looked toward him. "aren't you going to stretch first?"

he shook his head. "no need to waste the time. you're the one who thinks you need to lose weight. i am just here for you."

she extended her arm halfway toward him and wagged her index finger. "don't give me that. you have to keep in shape too, because even my bad tastes have a limit. we don't want you to get all flabby. and besides, you do realize that you don't stretch to lose weight, right? you stretch to help your muscles get ready for the running."

he shrugged. "as i said, no need."

she started to walk ahead. "suit yourself."

they walked along the gray path, still dark after the rain shower. about every 10 feet they would find an earthworm on the concrete, a couple of inches from the tall grass. the clouds were still dark and textured.

the girl with the onion-colored hair quickened her walking and then began to jog. he started jogging as well.

"you ever think this area is going to flood?" he asked.

she was quiet for a while. "what do you mean?"

"well, we have been receiving a lot of rain recently, and the river has been rising a lot lately."

"has it ever flooded here before?"

"not sure. i mean, either way, we'll obviously be fine in the city."

"right, of course we would be fine, but still …"

"yeah, it would be bad," he said.

"right, even if there aren't a lot of houses nearby…"

he began to run.

"hey, wait, hold up!"

she ran up to him. she was looking toward him. he was still looking ahead.

"if you start running now, you're not going to make it the whole way."

he was silent.

"hey, are you listening?"

he ran off the path and into the tall grass. his feet became accustomed to the soft earth rather than the concrete. his shoes and the bottom of his tracksuit were now dark because of the wet grass. he ran toward an area shaded by wide trees up ahead.

"woah, where are you going?"

she followed him into the forest. he kept running on ahead until they reached a dip in the land. he stopped, and she stopped by his side. they looked down at the river.

"sorry, i just wanted to go for a swim," he said.

she looked at him. her face was a few shades darker now that the branches of leaves were blocking some of the sunlight. she had big eyes. "that was really impulsive… are you going nuts?"

he smiled and reached over to brush the backs of his fingers against her neck. he gently rubbed the exposed skin where her scarf normally was. he then touched her cheek.

"you really are going crazy, aren't you?"

he brought his hand back to his side. "maybe," he said. he was not smiling any more. he bent down and untied his left shoe. he untied the right shoe before sliding them both off. he pulled off his white socks and laid them on top of his shoes.

"the river has a current, you know," she said. her voice was quiet. they could both hear the sound of the water and of a few birds in the trees.

"don't worry about me," he said. "and if you're worried about yourself, don't worry. i'll save you. now, give me your foot."

"huh?"

she lifted up her foot, and he grabbed the shoe. she stood on one leg. he untied the laces with one hand and then pulled the shoe off. he let the foot go, and she then began to untie the other shoe herself.

"i can take off my own shoe, thank you very much," she said. "you really are acting weird today. did someone spike your bowl of cheerios this morning or what?"

she finished taking off her shoe. now both pairs were set aside. she pulled off her long socks and threw them down on top of her shoes. she crossed her arms and shivered.

"it's cold. maybe we should go back."

he made his way down the dip. wet dirt stuck to his heels. he felt a twig snap beneath his foot.

"fine," she said.

she placed one bare foot six inches in front of the other and took a small step forward. then she took another step, and another. she slowly made her way down the dip. her heel pressed down along the way and slid. she shouted and waved her arms in wide circles. he extended his hand up toward her, and she was able to regain her balance. he still held her hand when she stepped down to where he was. their feet were about a foot from the water.

"i can see what you mean," she said.

he held his foot over the water.

"hm?"

he looked at her.

"i see what you mean, that this place might flood. that would be bad."

she pulled his hand forward slightly as she submerged her foot in the water.