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Lance awoke the next morning feeling much better than he had the previous night. The fatigue from the track meet was now gone, replaced by the feeling that things were finally coming together. The past two days had been those of revelation and discovery. And now that he had learned some thing about his new ability, he felt good.
That was, until he read the newspaper while he ate breakfast.
“Drug dealers out on bail, commit murder,” the headline on the front of the paper read.
Lance’s stomach dropped as he knew what was coming. The dealers that Lance had fought two nights before had been released on bail the previous afternoon. In what the police called a gang land hit, the deals were accused of committing murder.
No! Lance shouted in his mind. How could this happen? How were those guys even out of jail? They attacked me, and then tried to mug someone else.
Lance started to blame himself for the murder. Maybe, if he had fought harder or…or what? Killed them? That’d be the only way to stop them.
It wasn’t really his fault, he knew, but he still had a feeling that told him he could have, and should have, done more.
He was tired of seeing violence everywhere he went. It bombarded him constantly. At school, work, everywhere. It was always on the news, on the internet, in the newspaper, even on his cell phone. The only place that didn’t shove the death and decay of society at him was video games, and even that was changing.
“That’s it,” Lance told himself quietly. That’s enough. I have had enough. I can stop this. I have to. I have the power. I have to do this. It was a quiet resolution to himself. He had always known that the world was slowly wasting away around him, and now he could do something to change that.
It would be hard, Lance knew, to control the power that he had been given. But he would control it; use it to stop the violence. He would…do what? Lance didn’t know the first thing about fighting crime.
Scratch that, the only thing he knew came from the comic books he had read growing up. That gave him a place to start, some methods to try, but he needed some test subjects.
As he stared at the police photographs of the two drug dealers that had attacked him, Lance knew where to find two perfect lab rats.

The rest of the morning of his big epiphany was rather quiet. Once at school, he greeted Keri, where she apologized again for not showing up to his track meet. They walked to his first class quietly, holding hands like teens do.
“So, aren’t you, like, late for your first hour class, like, everyday?” Lance noted. He hadn’t really thought about it before, but it was true. If Keri walked with him to class every morning, and the bell rang just after Lance ducked inside his class room, then how would Keri get to her class on time?
“I’m not that late,” Keri reasoned as she grasped Lance’s arm tightly and batted her eyes at him. “But if you don’t want me to…”
“No, no, I didn’t say that. It was just something I thought of,” Lance replied quickly. “I love every moment I spend with you. As long as you don’t get into too much trouble...”
“I don’t, and besides, it’s totally worth it.” The two embraced, kissed quickly, then exchanged parting words and went their separate ways.
Ryan was already in class and tried to pretend that he hadn’t seen his friend walk into the room. Lance took the seats next to Ryan and stared. Ryan glanced over at his friend and nearly fell over from surprise when he saw Lance’s intense, bulging eyes.
“What?” Ryan asked, as he struggled to get back into his seat.
“You better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
Ryan paused for a moment, the silence between them thick.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go out with your sister, man.”
“What did I tell you last night? Besides, she’s already really excited about it. You back out now and it would crush her.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Yes, but promise me you won’t make out with her in front of me.”
“I can’t promise anything,” Ryan grinned before being interrupted by the teacher.
“Now that you two have talked through half of my class, think you might want to try paying attention?”
“Uh…y, yes,” Ryan and Lance stammered out in unison. They had only really talked through the first five minutes, but they both took the hint.

On the way to the next class, Ryan kept opening his mouth to say something and then hesitated.
“Spit it out already,” Lance commanded.
“Are you a psychic?” Ryan finally asked.
“Wait, what? Psychic?” Lance responded. That was one of the most ridiculous things he had ever heard anyone say about him.
“Yeah, you know, a mind reader?” Ryan explained. Lance just looked at him like has crazy.
“I know what a psychic is,” Lance said, irritated. “Why do you think I’m a psychic?”
“Because, you always seem to know what everyone is thinking,” Ryan explained. Lance didn’t always know what people were thinking.
Very often he wished he could get inside of Keri’s head and truly see what she thought of him. Maybe also see if she had been completely faithful, while he was at it.
“And you dodged that discus yesterday...”
“No, I’m not a psychic,” Lance replied, then added sarcastically, “But I can stop bullets.
“Really?”
“Yeah, and I can fly, and punch through walls. I also have X-ray vision,” Lance said, looking Ryan up and down. “Eva’s not going to be impressed.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” Ryan said, then instinctively looked down to his groin. Lance just smiled and shook his head.
The two friends walked to class, all the while Ryan not knowing that Lance had been serious when he said he was able to stop bullets.

The rest of the day had passed by easily. Lunch came and went without a fight, for the second day in a row, and track practice hadn’t been all that strenuous.
That was a good thing in Lance’s mind, because he had concocted a plan on what he was going to be doing that night.
That was going to be his first big night as…as what? A superhero, a vigilante? Lance wasn’t sure, but he knew that what he was going to be doing was the right thing. It had to be, as Lance had to be absolutely sure of himself.
He thought that this was his chance to clean up the city, that he could make a difference, and it was his chance to show that he could make a difference, to do what needed to be done.
And what is that? Lance asked himself. Murder? I can’t do that. But what good is putting them in prison if they can get out less than a day later? Maybe, just beating the piss out of them will be enough. God I hope so.
He would go out after work, he decided. He worked late enough that if he came home later than usual, no one would notice. Besides, his last stop of the night wasn’t that far out of the way, anyway.
Lance watched the clock continuously as he waited for the end of his shift to come.
Finally, ten o’clock rolled around and Lance bade the other employees’ adieu. He walked up the stairs quickly and punched out. He walked back down the stairs a few minutes late, hoping no one would notice that he changed clothes in the meantime, which he never did during the week.
He supposed that he could have just changed in the parking lot, away from the view of the other employees, but he could have been caught by someone who just happened to be passing by at that exact moment.
No, it was better to risk being seen in different clothes by employees rather than be seen naked by a stranger, or, worse yet, the police. That would’ve stopped his mission pretty fast if that had happened.
He had changed into a dark blue sweatshirt in order to blend into the shadows, as he didn’t want to wear black. He had learned in history class that the Germans had painted the underside of their planes black during the blitzkrieg, but they might as well have been painting it white. The night wasn’t nearly as dark as everyone thought, and, while darker colors worked well for blending in, people could spot out pure black fairly easily. At least, that’s what Lance remembered from his history class.
Wow, Lance thought. He grinned as he walked out to his car. School actually taught me something useful. Maybe I really should pay attention more often. Heh, but if they only knew what I was doing with what they taught me.
Lance opened his car door and got in, praying that it would start. Thankfully, it did, and Lance quickly pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.
After what seemed to be a long few minutes later, Lance arrived at his destination; a small gray brick building that laid down a side street. It was on his way home from work, and was only a couple of blocks down from the grocery store, so it worked out rather conveniently for Lance that this was where he would start his mission.
Sizing up the situation, Lance decided to park his car at a public park across the street from his destination, checking to make sure no one was out on the road paying attention to him, and then locked and exited the vehicle.
He crept across the parking lot and street, and stood silently in front of the building, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do.
His hand shook as he tried to calm down his nerves, but he was having trouble. Being a kid with a fantasy of confronting evil and righting wrongs was one thing, but he was about to actually do it, and the thought that it could all go terribly wrong terrified him. Still, he forced himself to go forward with his plan, as meager and haphazard as it was.
“This is it,” he told himself. “Whatever happens now, I can’t go back.” He could’ve backed out then, as he hadn’t actually done anything yet. No one would have known he was there. But he knew then that he had no choice; that if the men inside the building hurt anyone else, it would be his fault, especially now that he had the power to stop it. With that final thought, Lance opened the door and walked in. There was no going back now that Lance had crossed that threshold.

“Hey, what’s that?” a voice called out from the dark. “Boss, is that you?”
Lance recognized the voice. It was one he had never wanted to hear again, yet it was one that he was about to hear at length. The voice was that of one of the drug dealers that had tried to kill him two nights before
If they hadn’t tried to kill him, then Lance would never have discovered his ability, and he’d be at home now, in bed, without a care in the world. The men, in essence, had robbed Lance of a part of his innocence, and that angered him.
He let the anger he felt bleed into his voice as he responded to the man’s calls into the darkness.
“Not exactly,” Lance growled. “Why, were you expecting someone?”
Lance stepped into the light to reveal his face to the two prisoners.
“You. How’d, where, how’d you get into prison?” the dealer stammered out.
“It’s only a couple of holding cells attached to the police station,” Lance pointed out. The forms of the dealers were coming into focus as Lance’s eyes adjusted to the light. “Just a little place to keep pieces of trash like you until they can get you to a real prison. Seeing as how that isn’t until tomorrow, I thought we could have a little chat first.”
It really hadn’t been difficult for Lance to sneak into the holding area. There hadn’t even been a cop at the front desk when he walked in, and, as far as he could tell, there wasn’t any real type of surveillance, electronic or otherwise, in the entire police station.
“I aint got nothing to say,” the first dealer said, feigning confidence, but Lance ignored him.
“Like, about your boss. Who is he? Where can I find him?” Lance continued.
“We aint talking,” the first one said. He seemed to be the stubborn type, yet he was doing all the talking. Looking him over, Lance thought that the talker might be the on that had tried to shoot him, but it was too dark to tell for sure.
The other inmate shifted with a metallic squeak on the cot in the cell, drawing Lance’s attention for a moment.
“Yeah, you can’t do nothing to us in here. Not while you’re out there, man.”
“Is that so?” Lance asked and he reached over to the side of the cell, out of the dealers’ view. There was a click and then an almost silent hum.
“What? What’re you doing?” the man on the cot asked. Lance noted that the two men couldn’t have been that much older than he was. One had a beard that looked like it hadn’t been trimmed in weeks, and Lance thought he might’ve been going bald as well. The other was still on the cot so Lance couldn’t make out any distinguishing features. The door started to slide open and the men realized that Lance had flipped the switch to open up the cell.
Normally, from what he could gather, it would have also required a key to open the door, but fortunately for Lance, the key had already been in its place above the switch.
The gray steel frame and bars creaked in resistance to the movement as the door opened and the two dealers moved quickly to get out.
“Stay,” Lance commanded. The dealer who had already been standing continued to move towards the door. Lance realized that he would have to intimidate this dealer in order to get him to stay still. “You couldn’t kill me when you had a gun, and you will definitely have to kill me to get out now.”
Mentioning the incident from the other night caused the dealer to freeze in his tracks, awakening the fear that he would indeed not have been able to escape.
“Now, this doesn’t have to get ugly. I just want information…for now,” Lance started, as he stepped into the door to the cell, his large frame taking up most of the space. The dealers really would have to go through him to get out now.
A panice arose in Lance, as he realized he had been taking too much time, and he knew that if he spent too much more time in the holding area someone would surely notice.
“Who is your boss?”
“We don’t know. We’re not allowed to see him,” the man on the cot said. He was now sitting up.
“Then where do you get your drugs?” Lance asked, getting annoyed.
Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea, he thought. What if these punks don’t know anything?
“From a guy, you know, he gets ‘em from somewhere, we get ‘em from him,” the one standing informed Lance. The man was too close for comfort, but he hadn’t made any further progress towards the door, so Lance was content to leave the man where he was.
Now we’re starting to get somewhere.
“A middleman? What’s his name?” Lance asked. He felt the man move a split second before he actually saw it, but Lance was prepared nonetheless.
The man rushed forward, and Lance brought up his elbow to meet his attacker’s jaw. Lance followed through with a knee to the gut, knocking the wind from the man’s lungs. Quiet gasps filled the cell as the dealer collapsed to the floor.
“That was unpleasant. Now,” Lance said, then asked again, “what’s his name?”
“He goes by Big C. Don’t know his real name, I swear.”
The man on the cot pushed himself up against the wall, as if to elude Lance’s grasp.
“And where might I find him?” Lance pushed on, hoping for a solid lead. If he couldn’t get anything more, then this whole experiment would have been a waste.
“I…I…” the dealer on the cot stammered. Lance stepped over the body of the man’s fallen comrade.
“Where?” Lance shouted as he crossed the cell. He reached out and shoved the man into the wall. His hands remained on the dealer’s collar bone as he continued his interrogation.
“A restaurant. One of those seedy diners on…” the man paused, then blurted out the rest when he saw Lance’s impatience growing. “It’s on Reynolds and Cobalt.”
“Thank you,” Lance said as he released the dealer and turned to walk out of the holding cell. He walked through the door and turned around one last time to threaten the dealers.
“Oh, and don’t tell anyone I was here, or I’ll be seeing you again. And you really, really don’t want to see me again.”
Lance shut the door to the cell and was walking out when the door to the main room of the station started to open. He heard footsteps and managed to duck behind the door to the holding area as the police officer came through and looked around.
“Hey! You boys in here talkin’ to somebody?” the officer asked. He walked over to the cell to look in on his prisoners. Now that there was nobody blocking his way, Lance took the opportunity sneak through the door that the officer had just come through.
“No one but ourselves, man,” the more helpful of the two dealers responded. The dealer Lance had been forced to strike had managed to crawl to the other cot in the cell, but he still didn’t seem to feel like talking.
Lance hung just inside the doorway for a moment to make sure the dealers wouldn’t say anything once he left. After he was satisfied that they would keep their mouths shut, Lance walked out of the police station through the front door.
Lance stopped about twenty feet from the entrance to the station, puzzled.
“Why’d they call me ‘boss’?” Lance asked aloud, coming to the realization that they must have known more than they had told him. “And who posted their bail? They’re small timers, they don’t have that kind of money, do they?”
The whole experience had been very rewarding, yet, on the whole, it had seemed too easy. He had been able to just walk in the front door and into the holding area. Plus, the key to the cells had been left in the slot. He was glad for the luck he had, but knew that it wouldn’t always be that easy.
He came to the conclusion that it was a decent start, but he had been more lucky than tactful. Still, his stop at the police station had garnered some information that he would hopefully be able to put to use, and he hadn’t gotten hurt, so he chalked up the night as a success.
The teen considered going back for more information, but decided it would have been too risky, and after that night, the dealers would be going to a state prison. Lance didn’t think he’d be able to sneak into an actual prison quite as easily as he had the holding area at the police station.
After checking to make sure that no one was watching, Lance once again climbed into his car and drove home. He arrived at his house to find that everyone was already asleep, and he crept up the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could so that he wouldn’t wake anyone.
Once he was safely in his room, he checked his phone to see if he had received a call from Keri while he had been at the police station as he had checked for messages after getting out of work. He was almost worried to see that she hadn’t called, but was surprised to find that someone else had.
There was a voice message from a number he didn’t recognized and was shocked to find that it was from Rain.
“Hey Lance, this is Rain,” the message said. “I was, uh, thinking of having some people over, ya know, to watch movies or something, and I was wondering if you’d like to come. You can bring Ryan if you want, the more the merrier. Oh, and it’s Saturday night. Hope you cane make it. Talk to you later, bye…”
That was strange. Lance couldn’t remember giving Rain his phone number, but of course, he remembered after a moment that he had in the hallway before having that argument with Keri.
Maybe Ryan was right, Lance though as he put the phone into the charger and peeled of his sweatshirt. Maybe I should break things off with Keri. I mean, Rain seems more than willing and all. Plus, she’s so very hot.
Lance decided, as he took of his work pants and dropped them to the floor, that the next time he went out he’d have to have a costume. He looked around the room at the small piles of dirty clothes and also decided he should probably get around to cleaning his room as well.
“Something sleek,” he envisioned as he climbed into bed and pulled the covers over him. “Something that says I mean business.” He yawned loudly as he laid his head down on the pillow.
But right now, I need sleep.
Lance drifted off, feeling satisfied with a job well done.