Chapter 2

Peter Williams, that was the name of the owner of my current body.

Tall, dark, and mysterious would describe him well. Good looking, muscular, rich. I'm talking trust fund money. He spent his life traveling the world.

Sometimes it makes me think, what would Dave have been like had his circumstances been slightly different? A doctor, maybe, or even a stand up comedian.

So many different bodies, different people, so what made them each who they were?

I was currently looking at myself/Peter in the mirror. Dark, straight hair, sharp nose, strong jawline, with deep blue eyes. All in all, a world of difference compared to poor Dave.

Some people could fly, shoot fire, or put people in a stasis bubble and torture them for eternity. Remembering my brief run in with Gray Boy, I can't stop the shiver that ran up my spine. We're both killers, sure, but I don't torture people for fun. I mean, if the job required it, maybe, but I at least would charge extra. Also, no kids and women. Professionals have standards after all.

What was I talking about again?

Oh, right, superpowers.

If Peter had a superpower, it would be money. Mine on the other hand is a bit more unique. I can switch bodies with anyone I touch. It has to be skin to skin contact, though. As far as people I'm not in physical contact with, that has some limitations. I can plant a seed, so to speak, in a couple individuals and switch with them whenever I feel like, no matter the distance, but can only have a handful of those bodies active at a time.

I have five right now, including Peter. The rest were spread all over the world, each on a different continent. It made travel easier. 24 hour flights aren't fun, even in first class. I'd taken over a copilot once, just out of boredom. It's hard to believe people can fly at those altitudes with their own power.

All in all, I can come and go as I please, be whoever I want to be, which comes in handy for my particular profession. Besides, say, the President of the United States. Powerful or well-connected people usually have Capes working for them specifically to make sure they don't get brainwashed, or duped, or body snatched.

I'd found that out the hard way.

I feel a pair of hands close around my waist, followed by a seductive voice. "You're up early. Is everything okay?"

Honestly, the girl was a sneaky fox, with a face to match. She had a cheeky grin, along with very vulpine features. I smile as I remember the previous night's activities.

Her name is…

It's on the tip of my tongue. A-something. Agatha?

Agatha? That can't be right.

Alice! Got it.

It was hard to keep up with whatever girl Peter was going out with. He probably changed his girlfriend more than his bedsheets. I hope he sticks with this one though. They have great chemistry, and she seems nice.

"Hmm, just got a lot on my mind," I reply. Today was an important day, after all.

"Let me help with that," Alice grinned, before gently kissing my back.

I wish I could, but I've got somewhere to be. It's about time I give Peter back his body.

Closing my eyes, I feel for my seeds. I find the one I want half a world away, and I pull on it. The feeling of Alice's lips on my back fade, as well the gentle sounds of the ocean.

When I switch bodies, the previous hosts don't even realize someone was in their body, as long as I don't behave in a way that would clash against who they are naturally. Say, killing somebody, which was why it was better for everybody that Dave took that fall. I couldn't have him claiming that he had no knowledge of who killed Tempest.

The PRT could assume he'd been manipulated somehow, and that could lead them straight to me.

Staying in a body for too long was also dangerous for me. I start to relive their memories, and in the long run, it can become hard to separate who I am from whose body I'm currently controlling. As a rule of thumb, I try to switch out bodies every other week.

Swinging my head to the left, I catch sight of my new body's appearance in the glass windows of a skyscraper.

This body goes by the name Daniel, and if Peter was tall, dark, and handsome, well, then Daniel was small, round, and sweaty. But he had one of those faces that just put you at ease. He was disarming, hard to hate. If he had a superpower, it was that he was likeable.

Daniel was currently wearing a cheap suit, with a briefcase in his hand. He was a salesman, if I remembered correctly, and is the body I've kept around the longest. So long, I've grown attached to the guy. I even help him out now and then. He was rather surprised to find he won a raffle contest that he didn't enter, but seeing the $10 000 prize, and in dire need of cash, was rather grateful.

I pull at the tie around my neck and loosen the top button. I hated the darn things. Out of habit, I run my hand through my hair, only to feel the bald spot on top of my head.

"All right. Let's go."

I'm not sure what Daniel's plans for today were, but for now, I was in control. If it was important, I'd make it up to him later.

"Hey, hey!" I shout at the passing taxi cab.

It pulls over in front of me, completely oblivious to the traffic piling up behind it. That, or the driver just didn't care. It was probably the latter.

I apologize to the irate drivers as I pile into the taxi. I feel like that's something Daniel would do. He was always conscientious to the people around him.

"How you doing, pal? Where we headed?" the driver speaks.

"Northwestern Memorial Hospital." I reply while trying to ignore the smell of vomit.

Some kids probably grabbed this cab home after a night out. Vodka and Jagermeister seemed to be their drinks of choice.

"Sorry bout that. Haven't had a chance to get to it yet."

"It's all right," I reply with a smile.

The driver had a cap on, with a jacket over a stained vest. His most striking feature was his large, bushy eyebrows that moved every time he spoke.

The ride wouldn't be short, especially with midday traffic, so I pulled out Daniel's/My phone. It was an older model – one of those phones that didn't even have a color screen yet. Lucky for me, I knew his password. It was his mother's birth year, but reversed. 7691.

I did my best to avoid her whenever I took control of Daniel. She always looked at me like I was the Devil. I couldn't keep the smile off my face as I remember the time she sprayed me with holy water while shouting, "The power of Christ compels you!"

I guess mother's really do know their sons.

I'd wanted to call a florist, but their number was escaping me. Side effect of my power. Different people, different memories. Details started to get a little shaky, and it was best to not have anything written down that could be used as evidence.

I know for a fact, though, that there is a florist somewhere on the Northwestern Campus. Hmm, I'd see if I had time after we got there.

"... so I says to her, 'lady, you got the wrong person.' I mean, I like cheese as much as the next guy, but keep it outta my buttcrack, you know what I mean?"

What?

The taxi driver had been speaking the whole time, but I hadn't been paying attention. Sometimes you just gotta let people go with it, and then give them a nod and a "Really?" every now and then.

But what was playing on the radio caught my attention.

"Hey, can you turn that up?" I ask, motioning to the radio.

"Oh, this about the Cape," he replied while fiddling with the dial.

"... was shot on Thursday. The shooter has been identified as David C. Cooper. After being cornered by Ember and Polaris, he decided to take his own life. According to investigators, David had been struggling with-"

"Aye. Terrible isn't it? My boy had an action figure of that Tempest guy and everything. You'd pull the cord and he'd say something catchy, like, uh, follow the wind, but watch your back," the driver said while looking at me over his shoulder. "You know, sometimes you forget that they're just regular ol' people."

"Yeah, it's terrible," I reply. "But you gotta admit, this David guy must've been a great shot. I mean, skyscraper to skyscraper? Insane."

"Yeah," the driver replies slowly. "Uh, I guess."

The news broadcast ended, and some song called Party Rock Anthem came on. Music nowadays was getting crazy.

"Oh, my boy loves this song. They dance to it. Call it shuffling or something. You know, when I was…"

The taxi driver continued his neverending talking, so I zoned out again.

On the plus side, the public thought David was the killer, but you never trust what you hear on the news. Whether the PRT suspected anything more at this point was hard to say, so I'd stil have to be careful for a few more weeks. Better safe than sorry.

It took another 30 minutes of being stuck in traffic before finally getting to the hospital.

"So, she gets in, tells me to drive. I'm like, 'lady, this is no place to have a baby. Hold that sucker in till we get to the hospital.' She's like, 'Drive!' You know, screaming at me. So, I'm flying down 6th street, then I sees police lights, you know, weee-wooo, so I pull over. She ain't happy. I'm like, 'lady, I ain't going back to prison.' "

"Really?" I reply while hopping out of the cab.

"Anyways, long story short, me and this cop end up flying down 8th. Aaah, good times. Great kid too. Name's Bill, or Will, or something.

"Here, get your kid another action figure," I reply while handing him a large tip.

He'd done me the favor of dropping on the side closest to the florist. I'd add the 100$ to the list of things I owed Daniel for. Maybe get him out of dinner with his mom.

I can see Northwestern Memorial looming in the distance. But first, flowers.

I spot the shop on the campus easily by the colorful sign hanging out front, which stands out a lot compared to the dull gray of the rest of the city. The name on the sign said The Flower Basket.

The shop itself was small, quaint, all the while smelling of 100 different types of flowers, and after entering, it only took a minute for the girl working there to bound over to me cheerily.

"What are we looking for, sir? Flowers for the missus?"

The attendant was cute, with shoulder length, blonde hair, and a nice smile. My type down to a T. It would be a bit creepy for me to be hitting on her while in this body, though, so I didn't bother. I'd have to bring Daniel's body around here sometime.

"Hmm, birthday," I replied. "Have you got any Irises?" She liked those, or at least she did when she was younger.

"We do! We also just got some cute birthday cards in stock, if you're interested," she replied while leading me through the shop.

After been tricked into buying 2 different birthday cards and enough irises for a small wedding, I finally left the florist and made my way to the entrance area of the hospital.

I felt my heartbeat quicken, and had to wipe a bit of sweat off Daniel's/My forehead. Emptying a magazine into an office window on a skyscraper at 1000 yards was easy, yet coming here always made me nervous.

After preparing myself, I entered the hospital.

"Can I help you?" the receptionist asks without even looking up from the computer.

"Hey, how's it going?" I reply cheerily. "I'm looking for Christopher Anderson's room."

It had been a few months since I'd been here, so I wasn't sure if he was in the same room.

"One second," she replied, before typing up a storm on the keyboard. "Floor 3, room 4C. You can take the elevator over there."

"Thanks," I replied.

On the elevator ride up, I could feel my nerves get the better of me once again, and for a second, I considered just leaving.

-Ding!-

"You getting off?"

"Hm?" I reply.

"Isn't this your floor?" the man asks again.

"Yep," I reply and exit the elevator.

I had to ask a nurse for directions, but eventually found myself outside room 4C. Even from here, I could hear the steady beat of a heart monitor, as well as the deep breathing that came with a breathing tube.

Christopher was in the bed, eyes closed. It's not like he could leave even if he wanted to. He looked skinny. A long time in bed will do that to you, atrophy your muscles. A car accident had left him paralyzed from the neck down for close to 8 years now.

Chris wasn't alone in the room. A young girl was sitting on the couch with her fingers interlocked behind her head and staring up at the ceiling.

She'd grown taller since I'd last seen her. She should be in her last year of high school if I had my years correct. She also seemed to have hit her rebellious phase judging by the piercings, tattoos, and dark black hair.

That would be Isabelle, Chris's sister.

She noticed me staring and gave me a glare. "Need something, pervert?"

This girl…

I wanted to lash out, but Daniel wouldn't do that. Entering the room, I place the flowers on the bed.

"I'm happily married, thank you." I reply to Isabelle, showing her the ring on my finger.

Actually Daniel was divorced for like the third time now, but just hadn't accepted that fact yet and kept the ring on. Poor guy.

"You know my brother?" she asks, this time a lot less hostile, while looking at the flowers.

Of course I know him, I scoff inwardly.

Christopher Anderson is me. My original body, at least, before I'd gotten my powers.