As Spike crawls out of my rucksack I finish writing the last few words in the back of my notebook. With a smile I grab one of the left-over hotdogs from last night's meal and break a bit off.
"Here you go." I hold out the hotdog towards Spike and wait patiently for him to come forward and snag it. As soon as he's grabbed it, I gently toss the rest of the hot dog away from the stream and quickly pack the remaining cans and the cooker. While I'm hopeful I'll be able to find the camp again, I don't want to run the risk that I can't.
All too soon I'm all packed and I heft the rucksack onto my back with a smile. Just before I start to climb towards home, I remember the state of the shipping container I left from. Maybe sitting down isn't such a good idea for this.
Shaking my head, I get to my feet, "Well Spike, I guess I'm learning to meditate standing up sooner than I thought."
Of course, Spike doesn't answer me. Instead, he finishes the bit of hotdog and then disappears with a pop, only to reappear over by the rest of the hotdog. I screw my eyes shut and shake my head, as I'm sure I just felt him travel through the intervening space.
As I'm trying to clear my head, my notebook and pen float out of the pocket on the rucksack and I write.
Spike can teleport. Of course he can, why didn't I think of that.
With the thought now on paper I'm able to turn my attention to the metaphorical gaping canyon that keeps trying to drag me down, and away from home. As my awareness of it comes into focus I sway slightly on my feet. Then I start to climb towards home.
Unlike the time I did it a week ago, this time it feels like I'm trying to stuff myself into a dress I outgrew a year ago. Granted it might have felt like that then, but I was too focused on not falling further down the canyon to notice. It certainly didn't feel like this when I succeeded at school.
As the stream fades out to be replaced by another breath-taking vista, it occurs to me that I should really also be checking my slice of New England, as that changed too. Even as I think that, I know that I'm procrastinating, as I don't really want to go home, back to Brockton Bay, back to The Trio and their taunts and bullying.
Rather than dwell on what awaits me at home, I instead try to find New England inside me.
Once I managed to find my way there, I look around in surprise. The changes are there, not as obvious as they were when I made it to my campsite, but instead of being in full bloom, it's clear that many of the flowers and trees are still budding. Is that why it's so hard to change? Because I'm trying to undo all of the growth? Or is it because I'm using the wrong visualization?
Shaking my head, I go through the now familiar process of returning to my body.
As I continue to climb up the canyon, my slice of New England continues to become more wintery, until finally it's back to the way I found it a couple of weeks ago. Rather abruptly, the canyon ends before I'm back in the trainyard.
Don't get me wrong, I can still feel it gaping behind me, waiting for me to forget about it and swallow me up. But I've managed to avoid falling so far. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I brace myself for the memories I know are coming. Then I try to find that state where I can feel the cracks in the world.
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When I arrive back in Brockton Bay, the first thing I do is cough and retch at the smell of smog, urine, and trash. It figures that I can't even return to the same spot.
While I'm trying to recover, a man grabs my rucksack and drags me out of the Alleyway into a dark street with several other men. When he shouts something in Japanese I start to shiver and resolutely look at the floor while trying to see a way to run away.
A moment later, a door to a house opens and men start to pour out, their features briefly illuminated by the interior light. As the men all line up on either side of the street my heart drops. Why oh why didn't I spend more time trying to work out how to use my teleport power?
I watch helplessly as their boss steps into the doorway. He's a big guy, but not so big that he would send people running when he walked down the street. He's a little over six feet which still puts him head and shoulders above most of the gang members. Covering his face is an ornate metal mask, and despite the chill in the air, he's not wearing a shirt. I have just enough time to register the sprawling tattoos that cover his body from the neck down, each one depicting a dragon from eastern mythology. Then he's in the street and walking towards me. I don't think there's anyone in Brockton Bay that wouldn't recognize Lung, the leader of the Azn Bad Boys, or ABB as they're more commonly known.
"Who's this?" When Lung speaks, I'm surprised at just how deep and commanding his voice is.
The man holding me says, "I found her spying on us in the alleyway over there."
I vehemently shake my head, "I wasn't, I was just trying to get home, I promise."
Lung shakes his head and starts walking past, "Kill her, we don't have time for this tonight."
When I hear the click of a gun being drawn, I panic and I use my telekinesis to push everyone away from me as hard as I can. Everything seems to pause as Lung goes cartwheeling down the road. The man that was holding me has just enough time to let out a scream before his head slams against a brick wall with a sickening crunch. A second later the unopened cans float out of my rucksack and array themselves behind me.
From down the street Lung says, "That was a mistake girl. You should have let him shoot you. Now. I'm going to kill you myself."
Eyes wide with panic, I turn to face Lung as he begins to run towards me, and I freeze. He's only a couple of paces from me when I start thinking again, and I throw one of my cans at him as hard and fast as I can. The can makes a loud bang as it hits Lung in the stomach, and then most of it just keeps going trailing a spray of blood and ravioli. Lung just stops and looks at me stupidly as his legs give way. A few seconds later there's a tink, ti-ti-tink, t-t-tink as the can hits the road.
As if that was a signal, suddenly everyone starts moving and drawing their weapons, a mixture of guns, knives, sticks, and more traditional martial arts weapons. I'm not afraid to admit that, at that moment, I peed myself. See, on some level I was aware of the fact that Lung wasn't dead, and large metal plates were already sliding out of his skin to cover him in impenetrable armor.
As the first gangster raises a shotgun, I throw one of my cans at him. Not quite as hard as the one I threw at Lung, but still hard enough for it to burst with a loud crack as it hits his chest.
"I-I'm just going to go home now, nobody else needs to die. See, I-I wasn't lying, I really do just want to go home."
As I'm saying that, I start edging around Lung to head west away from their territory. As I edge closer to the far edge of the gangsters, they start to part to allow me through. I'm almost ready to run for it when Lung sits up and says, "Mother Fucker!"
That's when I break into a run. It's strange, you read about villains like Lung having super strength, but you don't really appreciate what that really means until you see someone leap clear over your head to land on the road in front of you.
As I skid to a halt, I throw the last of my cans at Lung as hard as I can. This time, instead of punching through him, he braces himself and raises his arms to cover his head, and they pancake against his chest. Then he starts to laugh.
"I told you girl, you should have taken the bullet."
Desperately, I try to push him with my power, but all it does is cause him to stumble backwards. That's when he throws a stream of fire at me and I throw myself to one side, the smell of burning hair and nylon following behind me.
As I land heavily on the blacktop, Lung already has another stream of fire coming towards me from the other side. I quickly roll away from that stream, only to end up on my back and looking at Lung as he laughs while he walks towards me. Each time I try to turn over to scramble to my feet he throws another streamer of fire at me.
As his hand raises to point directly at me, everything seems to slow down. It's a well known phenomena amongst those who have had near death experiences, and people think it's the brain's way of trying to find any way out of the situation. I don't know if that's true, but it suddenly struck me that it's quite chilly out. That's when I remembered that it's winter in my own slice of New England, and fire needs three things to exist, Fuel, Oxygen, and Heat.
I can almost see the fire leaving Lung's hand as I try to bring my hand up to protect me, but my body is too slow, so I let go, as I'd rather fall down the canyon than burn to death here. As I do, frost seems to explode from me as all the water in the air instantly freezes. But it's not enough and the fire punches through the hanging crystals so I screw my eyes shut and wish for it to get colder, so cold that the oxygen will freeze.
A few seconds later I open my eyes to stare into Lung's eyes as he lets out a breath that instantly freezes and turns into snow. As he struggles to take a new breath, Lung hunches down and then explodes. I don't mean explodes like you see bodybuilders do when they spread their arms wide, though he did that too. I mean literally explodes in a massive ball of fire that stops a couple of feet in front of my own feet. As the light from his burning body lights up the street it allows me to see the terrified faces of people looking out of their bedroom windows as hoarfrost creeps up their walls and along the road.
Lung deliberately walks towards me, one step after another, like he knows he's won. I might have beaten his fire, but I can't beat him. I'm looking him straight in the eyes when the canyon opens beneath me and I start to fall and I let it happen for a few seconds until I can no longer see him.
Then it's a race to stop my fall before I find out what's at the bottom of this canyon.
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As I come to a halt I lie back on the grass and look up at the white streams in the sky while my heart tries to pull itself out of my throat and ice boils off of my stomach. A second later I start to laugh, more than a little hysteria coloring the sound. I'm alive, I survived Lung. I take it all back, my power is great!
I don't know how long I lay there, staring at the streams, but eventually I calmed down enough to start thinking again. That's when I realize that Lung saw my face.
"Oh shit, that means I can't go back to school. Even once I've got control of my powers and they stop trying to out me…"
I trail off when I realize I'm talking to myself, and not in the way people normally do. As I take a couple of deep breaths, my notebook and pen floats out of the pocket of the rucksack and flips to a new page.
"Ok Taylor, what do you need to do. First of all, you still need the tent and your savings book. You should also pick up some books for entertainment and maybe a couple of packs of cards or dominoes…"
I trail off again as I start to concentrate on just getting my thoughts down on paper.
Tent
Savings book
Leave a note for Dad so that he know's he might be in danger
Check shelves for any other survival books.
Pack books for entertainment
Find something that's a bit less lethal than throwing tins of food at people. Maybe a quarter staff.
Use the computers in the library to find out how to make a quarter staff.
Learn to teleport properly.
Cooking utensils
Something for hunting game with, just in case I can't get back to Brockton Bay.
Costume - Lung already knows my face, so I need to hid in my normal identity.
Playing cards and a chess set for when I'm bored.
Practice my invisibility.
A book on building shelters.
As I write the last line, some sixth sense makes me look around, like I'm being watched or something. Deciding that I've stayed here long enough, I begin the long climb up the canyon. I hope nobody else fell in when it opened up for me.