"And you called me stupid for robbing the convenience store," Yasmin said dryly from the other end of the hallway.
Maggie turned around, raising her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"
Yasmin looked her up and down. "You're going out to commit a robbery, aren't you?"
Maggie scowled. "None of your business."
"It is if you get caught."
"I'm not dumb enough to flash my powers around for other people to see. I wouldn't have had any problem with you robbing that store if you'd managed to keep your identity secret."
"So you are about to rob someone."
With one last glare, Maggie stalked out the door into the chilly night air. "I said it's none of your business."
As a matter of fact, she was going to commit a burglary—not the really important one, but one that would help her along financially. She'd been feeling the dent in her finances ever since paying August for the David Artino bird the day after she'd taken it home, and she figured a few nice expensive watch components would help her along quite nicely. She didn't dare take any actual watches, since their absence would most likely be noticed, not to mention even August may have to say something if she became too blatant about her stealing. But a silver fastener, a few jewels, a band with no timepiece affixed—she was pretty sure no one would think twice about any of those.
She pulled the drawstrings of her black hooded sweatshirt as tight as they would go, obscuring almost all of her face. Fall nights in Gatlon City were always cold, with drafts of wind picking up and rolling in from the bay. She had to force herself to walk rather than run down the sidewalk in the direction of Franklin Tower, knowing that a dark figure darting around under the cover of night would immediately raise suspicion. She fought back a shiver, hoping she could warm her body up by speed walking.
As she approached the looming figure of Renegade Headquarters, her thoughts drifted to Max. She still wanted to do something for him, the way he had planned out the bracelet day for her. And… well, showing her the watch factory. She grimaced against the onslaught of guilt that assaulted her. Max had shown her the factory because he'd thought it was cool and figured she would enjoy it too, especially given her supposed interest in jewelry making. He hadn't brought her there to give her a new target to steal from.
Max's words from the first time they'd met crept into her mind: I always felt bad about them too. You know, because they originally belonged to other people.
Max had once been the most powerful prodigy in the world, able to take powers from any prodigy he came across. If he'd wanted to, he could have traveled all around the city, stealing everybody's powers, and done whatever he pleased.
But he hadn't. Instead, he'd stayed in the quarantine, despite hating being kept separate from everyone else, despite wanting to go out and explore and make friends and live life. He'd stayed in the quarantine because he hadn't wanted to steal powers from people. And the powers he'd accidentally stolen already, he'd felt guilty about.
Maggie wasn't sure what it was like to feel guilty about stealing something. She understood that people didn't like being stolen from, of course, and figured she would be pretty upset if someone tried to take something of hers too. But anything she owned that she actually cared about, she took every single precaution to keep it safe. Her lucky bullet was with her 24/7, and her powers would immediately alert her if it so much as moved an inch. The bird figurine was currently hidden in the very back of her bottom dresser drawer back at the theater, wrapped in several articles of clothing, and Yasmin, Chester, Eminya, Duncan, and Kevin all knew she'd murder them if any of them so much as stepped a foot into her room when she wasn't there. Even her entry slip from the children's home was folded safely beneath the bird for now—not that it was of much importance to her, but she did want to take a look at it at some point in time, and it would be a shame if it disappeared before she got the chance.
The point was, she guarded her most prized possessions carefully, and she expected others to do the same. If they were careless or oblivious enough to let something of theirs to get stolen, it was really their own fault as much as it was hers. No reason to feel guilty.
Guilty. The word weighed heavily on her, and she cast a quick, subconscious look up to the windows on the fourteenth floor of headquarters, before averting her eyes, furious with herself. That wasn't her fault either. It was Phobia's fault. It was Nightmare's fault. It was the fault of Ace Anarchy and the Anarchists for attacking the arena that day, and it was the fault of the Renegades for not being more alert and aware of what was going on before it happened. And it was Callum's fault, for showing her his power in the first place, that day in the vault, and for making her think that maybe he could put an end to all the fighting…
No. No, that hadn't been his fault. He'd just been doing what he always did, being his usual obnoxious self, trying to get her to see the wonder and the beauty in all the dusty old junk the Renegades kept in their warehouse. Despite his irritating personality, his intentions had always been good. He had always tried to help.
Which is what I was trying to do, a small voice in the back of her mind spoke up. She could've just run away that day. Left the arena, gone off to hide until all the mayhem was over, ensuring her own safety while leaving everyone else behind to fend for themselves. But she hadn't. For once in her life, she'd tried to do something that would benefit everybody, and all she'd managed to accomplish was—
She gritted her teeth and increased her pace, staring ahead at the buildings coming toward her, at the occasional car that passed by, at the lights glittering from the northern skyline. Focus. The watch factory. Lots of valuables. Lots of money. More money means more supplies, more supplies means more of a chance the plan will succeed, and the success of the plan means my debut as Gatlon City's new supervillain. Everyone will fear me. Nobody will boss me around. I will have total control.
As she'd hoped, by the time she'd been walking for half an hour or so, she was no longer cold, though her breath still fogged the air whenever she exhaled, and the occasional gust of wind sent a shiver through her body. She kept the hood securely enclosed around her head, not wanting to take any chances of being recognized.
It was nearly three in the morning by the time she arrived at the tall building that held the watch factory on its twelfth floor. This was the time she had been aiming for—the perfect island of unwatchfulness when all but the most dedicated night owls had finally decided to hit the sack, and the early risers hadn't yet aroused from their slumber. She knew that Renegade patrol units canvased the city at all hours, and that random vigilantes didn't exactly follow predictable schedules, but at this particular time, her chances of being caught were slim.
Now came the hard part. First glancing around to ensure that no one was around, Maggie skulked into the shadows shrouding the main door. Concentrating as hard as she could, she focused her powers on the deadbolt locking the door in place. It is valuable, she thought. It is very valuable. It is made of stainless steel, and the locking mechanism on the other side just needs to be turned ever so slightly to the side… Stainless steel usually complied easily with her telekinesis, despite its lack of inherent value when compared with metals such as gold and silver. But the deadbolt required a lot more force than most of the items she was accustomed to moving, and besides, it was always harder when the direction she was trying to make an object go was somewhere other than right toward herself.
Finally, after what felt like years of applying her powers to the lock, she heard it click open. Wrapping her hand in the sleeve of her sweatshirt so as not to leave fingerprints, Maggie tried the door. It opened without a hitch. See? she thought, in retaliation to her earlier thoughts about guilt over stealing. I definitely don't need to feel guilty about this. They're practically begging someone to come in and burgle them.
Of course, she wasn't at the watch factory yet, but rather in some sort of lobby. She kept her head down, not wanting her face to be seen on the inevitable surveillance cameras, and made her way to the stairwell, which glowed an eerie red from the exit signs hanging at every landing. She began to make her ascent.
If she'd thought the walk up twelve flights of stairs with Max was long, that was nothing compared to this. With Max, there'd been a hint of anticipation—and okay, maybe skepticism and paranoia as well—about where he was taking her and what was going to happen. There'd also been another person to talk to and commiserate with. Now it was only her, in the red-tinged darkness, climbing what felt like an endless flight of stairs to nowhere.
Eventually, she reached the floor labeled 12, and was met by a sturdy wooden door with a sign that read, in fancy script, Emerson Timepieces. She disengaged this door's lock the same way she'd done the one to get into the building, and a moment later she was stepping into a wide, industrial room full of various pieces of machinery.
It was the same room she and Max had been watching, she noted as she took stock of her surroundings. It was dark now, lit only by the glow of more red exit signs and the light from the city streaming in through the windows, but there was the engraver, there was one of the robotic arms, there was the cistern… one by one, she identified each of the appliances she'd seen that day with Max. So the little silver pieces should be right over there, she figured out, targeting the metal chute she'd seen the finished pieces sliding into before. When she arrived at the box, however, she found it to be empty.
She cursed, and hurried over to the next machine, which also was devoid of silver pieces. She darted to the engraver and found that it too was empty.
"No…" she muttered, feeling her excitement deflate. She'd been foolish to think it would be this easy. They must store the pieces somewhere else while the factory wasn't running.
She glanced around the room, looking for signs of places where products could be stored. Why hadn't she planned this out better? She should have done some research on this place—maybe had Kevin or Eminya help her, since they were so good at finding information in books and online. But she'd been so eager to commit this burglary that she hadn't really thought much beyond when and how she was going to arrive.
Her gaze alighted on the door beneath one of the Exit signs. It had a sign on it, and even from so far away, she was pretty sure it said AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Heart rate speeding up, she crossed the room and used her powers to unlock the door.
The room behind the door was dark—much darker than the room she was standing in. And I didn't even bring a flashlight, she thought, chagrined. She should really stick to pickpocketing. She wasn't cut out for this sneaking-into-buildings-at-night stuff.
One step into the room, though, and she realized that a flashlight would have been unnecessary. She was definitely in the right place. She could feel the valuables all around—and not just the little silver band pieces she'd seen being manufactured the day she'd come with Max, but gold pieces as well, and circles of gemstones that she guessed were watch faces, and even tiny little gold and silver pieces that might have been the time-telling hands.
"Jackpot," she whispered.
It was perfect. There were so many of each kind of item, no one would notice if she skimmed a few pieces of each. Using her powers, she started to pull a few of the pieces nearest to her into her outstretched hand, before deciding it would be more practical to just use her hands, as long as she kept them covered at all times by the sleeves of her sweatshirt. She didn't want to risk leaving behind even a hint of a fingerprint.
With her left hand, she unzipped the fanny pack she was wearing around her waist. With her right, she reached into the nearest box, using the signature of the metals to guide her. Once she was nearly touching the pieces, she used her telekinesis to maneuver a few of them onto her covered palm. She expertly snatched them and tossed them into the fanny pack.
These were the silver pieces of the watch bands, what she had seen being manufactured before. She scooped one more handful before moving on to the gold ones, taking two handfuls of those before stepping further into the darkened room to grab some of the other components.
She had just reached her hand into the box containing the jeweled faces when she heard a small thump behind her.
She froze, her breath catching in her throat. It had to be nothing—just a machine settling, or maybe some kind of bird or bat that had flown into one of the windows.
There was another sound. A light tap, and then—were those footsteps?
Every hair on the back of her neck stood up, but she didn't dare move. Maybe it was just a custodian, coming in to check up on the machines. Maybe he or she wouldn't notice that the door to the valuables room was wide open.
She didn't know whether she was far enough into the room for the darkness to cover her. She didn't know who was in the main room, if they knew she was there, or even if there was anyone there at all.
The not-knowing was killing her.
She knew that if she turned around, she'd be risking getting caught. But that was better than just standing her with her back to whoever it was, just waiting for them to attack her from behind. Trying to make as little noise as possible, she slowly pivoted so that she was facing out into the manufacturing room.
A silhouette stood just feet away from her, its head roving around as if looking for something. As if looking for her.