A New Day (StrikeForce #1) (5 page)

It ended up taking me almost two hours to get home, most of it on foot, because traffic was a mess thanks to how badly the earthquakes had messed up the roads. Chaos. In the end, I found a small neighborhood thrift shop that was still open and paid fifteen bucks for a neon pink ten-speed so I could pedal the rest of the way home. By the time I got there, my head was pounding and I wanted to puke. My vision was blurring in front of me. I felt wobbly, fuzzy, the way you feel when you have a bad cold or the flu. I wondered numbly if this was what a concussion felt like. I’d have to Google it.

I was relieved to see Mama’s car parked outside of our trailer, and I tried to make myself seem okay before I walked in. When I stepped inside the trailer, it was to find Mama leaning forward in her chair, staring at the news. The door clicked closed behind me, and she jumped up.

“Oh, thank God! It’s a mess out there… you’re hurt!” she said as she looked me over.

“Just scraped up. I fell when the earthquakes started,” I said. “I’m okay.”

“Thank God,” she repeated, pulling me gently into a hug. I hugged her back. “Do you want to eat?”

“I just feel really tired. It took me a long time to get back here. Buses aren’t running,” I said as I pulled away from her.

“Okay. You tell me if you need anything,” she said sternly, and I nodded, then kissed her cheek and stumbled back to my room. I took the time to put the wad of cash Luther had given me under the false bottom in my dresser, stripped down to my t-shirt and pulled on some pajama pants before falling into bed.

When I woke up, the windows outside were dark. Sirens sounded, echoing in the night.

It took me a minute to realize that it was too dark, too quiet in our trailer. My alarm clock didn’t glow red the way it usually did. I got up to check on Mama. I felt my way down the hall, still feeling dizzy, almost feverish. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I realized that I could hear a radio in the living room. I walked in and my mom was sitting in her chair, candles lit around the room, the small radio we sometimes listened to out on the front porch perched on the coffee table nearby.

“Hey, ladybug,” she said quietly. “We lost power a few hours ago. Lightning strike,” she explained.

I rubbed my hands across my face, trying to wipe the drowsiness away. “Are the quakes still happening?” I asked her.

She shook her head, and I sat on the sofa.

“The last one was a little over an hour ago. Final count was twelve in the tri-county area. A few more outstate.”

“Anyone hurt?”

“Some bumps and bruises. There were a few car accidents because of the quakes, and those are more serious, from what they’re saying. It’s happening all over the country. Texas and Arizona have reported their first ones. It’s just like last time. Do you remember sitting here with me, listening to the news that night?”

I nodded and clamped my hands together, because suddenly, they were shaking. The nausea was coming back, and I was freezing, but sweating, and there was still that general fuzzy feeling. I tried to focus on something other than how crappy I was feeling.

Mama and I sat in silence, listening to the reports coming in. She got up and fixed us each a cup of tea, and I was grateful for it. The searing liquid almost cut through the ice inside me. As we sat and drank, the radio went silent.

After a few moments, we both started looking at it.

“Maybe we killed the batteries?” I asked.

“Nah. Light’s still on,” she said, pointing to the little green “power” light.

A few more seconds of silence, and then the same woman who’d been reporting returned. “I apologize for the radio silence there,” she said, and something in her voice, something in the shakiness she didn’t seem to be trying to hide, made my stomach turn. “We are receiving reports… “ she trailed off. “Reports from Europe and Asia, where these environmental disturbances first began. As some predicted, this indeed seems to be a second Confluence. News agencies are beginning to report that people in the affected areas are beginning to exhibit unusual properties. Powers.”

“People are flying. Showing signs of incredible strength. The activity is echoing what we saw during the original Confluence event. We can verify it now, even if we don’t know what caused it. There is video coming in from London, and Paris, Tokyo. This story is still developing, and as we get more information, we promise to pass it along to you.”

Mama and I exchanged a glance.

“Maybe we’ll get some decent heroes in StrikeForce now,” I said.

She nodded. “Jo… I know I was pushing you to move out, but are you sure you want to move now? With all this? You can stay if you want to.”

I smiled. Thought of the loot in my dresser, and how I didn’t want her to find it, or have to deal with anyone who might come looking for it. Not that I thought it likely, but I didn’t want to risk having to come clean with her.

“I’m sure. This doesn’t worry me. Unless you want me to stay?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. And I know you’ve only stayed this long to help me out.”

“Well, really, I stayed because I love you and you cook for me.”

She laughed. “I’ll still cook for you, ladybug.” She sighed. “Just make sure you have a good security system and good locks. Okay?”

I nodded and turned my attention back to the radio.

An hour or so after sunrise, the power flickered back on, and Mama got up with a grateful sigh to brew some coffee. I turned the television on, flipped around until I found news instead of commercials. The President was giving a press conference.

“It is clear that the world is changing yet again. We now have confirmation of a new wave of humans developing super powers. And we are seeing, already, in those places affected, how much chaos a few humans with superpowers can cause when they decide to use those powers for evil, just as we saw ten years ago. Human nature just doesn’t seem to change. We are beginning to see the very first signs of new powers in some of the islands in the Atlantic. We have no reason to believe that the same won’t occur here, after yesterday’s seismic events. Those events, these Confluences, may never be understood. We’re going to try. But in the meantime, it is our job to ensure that the public remains safe. We are lucky to have agencies dealing with this type of thing.” He meant agencies like StrikeForce. There were a few, kind of a regional thing. Here, StrikeForce was a private force that worked fairly free from government oversight. Other big cities had the same thing, where a super being who also had deep pockets decided to play Batman or whatever. In places where no one put up the money for it, the government set up its own task forces, but they seemed all too happy to let super beings handle super beings. On screen, the President continued. “They will be our first line of defense against any troublemakers among this new wave of powered people.”

I shook my head, tearing my gaze away as the news went to commercials after his statement ended. I still felt like crap from the injuries and long walk/ride home the night before. My stomach was tied up in knots, and I was on edge.

I knew what would make me feel better. I needed to get out. Needed the focus that came with pulling off another job. I just needed to do some checking around first.

I sighed. But first, I had to find an apartment. And move. And find some way to get over the fact that I was an infamous burglar who didn’t want to move away from her mommy.

The apartment thing worked out courtesy of Mama, who knew someone who knew a guy who owned an apartment building. I signed a lease, forked over a security deposit and first month’s rent, and less than a week later, I found myself standing in the living room area of a shitty little studio apartment in Roseville. The landlord had been very pleased to tell me that I had my own parking space, that everyone did, and I hadn’t bothered telling him that I didn’t have a car.

I didn’t want to be there.

Mama had helped me pack and move, and seemed almost giddy when she hugged and kissed me and told me to have fun getting settled.

“I had no idea you wanted me to move so badly,” I said, crossing my arms.

Mama grinned. “It’s on the parent bucket list. Make sure you live to be eighteen. Hope you go to college. Push you out of the nest and watch you fly. And you are so going to fly, Jo,” she said, smiling. “You can’t do that living with your Mama.”

“Says you,” I grumbled, and she laughed and hugged me hard.

“You’ll get used to it,” she said, and then she kissed my cheek and showed herself out. I was left, staring listlessly at all of the boxes and bags surrounding me, along with my dresser from home, the ugly sofa and tables that came with the apartment, and a small TV that was on its last legs. I still felt the after-effects of the day the quakes had hit, and the last place I wanted to be was in this strange place that was supposedly mine.

I unpacked, and even with all of my stuff there, it still felt nowhere near being “home.” I hung around for a day or two, went to class, and, lacking anything else to do and needing to get out of my apartment, I started planning my next heist.

It wasn’t going exactly as planned. I was starting to stress a bit over the fact that the people who lived in the next house I was planning to rob just kind of seemed to be hanging around. Though, to be honest, there were plenty of people hunkering down, waiting to see what would happen in the aftermath of the Confluence. It usually took anywhere from a couple of days to a couple of weeks for powers to show up, based on what we knew from the first Confluence. Here and there, powers were showing up in North America, including a few right in the Detroit area. Still, I wasn’t making any money, and it was making me antsy. I decided to forget about the young family in the house with the giant white columns and make a move on some of my other targets.

After doing some checking on the feeds from the tiny cameras I’d installed at three other possible targets, I had it narrowed down.

Thank God, because it felt like I was on the verge of losing my mind. A quick job would take the edge off.

I’d been casing this house for a while now. The only reason I hadn’t actually bothered breaking in was because I knew only one person lived there, and it was a guy. Which usually meant not as much jewelry, which was kind of my bread and butter. I really hadn’t planned on hitting him now, either, but I needed to do something, and, really, with the police and everyone busy with the aftermath of the earthquakes and watching out for when super trouble was going to appear, it seemed like a shame not to take advantage of the chaos. They definitely weren’t worried as much about me right now.

The only issue really would be transportation, I thought as I walked a few blocks away from my target. The buses were running, but the routes were all screwed up due to road closures and the fact that more than a few buses had been damaged in the quakes. People were still driving around, and, clearly, the cops could still get around when they needed to. So my main concern was the getaway, because getting in would be a piece of cake. No pets, no security guards, just a simple monitored security system, which I could jam easily enough.

Probably, he didn’t even have anything in there worth stealing. But you never know. He had good taste. I could tell that from the glimpses of the decor in the living room I’d been able to see, the expensive but not-flashy car he drove. He’d only been there twice in the weeks I’d been casing the place, so maybe he travelled a lot. From what I’d been able to see, he hadn’t been around in the last few days at all.

So, it came down to how to get myself out once I’d cleaned him out.

I jammed the security system and ducked inside after picking the lock on the back door, which opened onto a patio that overlooked a giant swimming pool. I glanced around, making sure no one saw me as I ducked inside. The great thing about this particular guy’s house was that he had long lines of pine trees along three sides of his yard. Really private. No security guards. Maybe he was a loner or something. Really didn’t matter to me either way, but it made my job easier.

The kitchen wasn’t anything special. Not the sleek, modern kitchens I usually saw during these jobs. Oak cabinets, tile floor. Nice, expensive, but maybe what most people would consider outdated. I liked it.

I listened, and heard nothing, and started opening cabinets.

Sometimes, you find good stuff in places where they don’t think you’ll look for it. One of those shows on TV must have had something about hiding your valuables in the freezer or the flour bin, because I found more expensive jewelry in those two places than I ever would have expected to.

Cabinet after cabinet was empty, which made me wonder if maybe he didn’t live there full time. Which would suck even more for me, actually, because he may not have had anything worth stealing, despite how expensive the house and car were.

Unfortunately, there was nothing worth stealing in his kitchen, so I headed into the living room. Large TV, video game systems, stereo, none of which I was interested in. There was a stairway with an iron railing to my left, and I quietly, quickly walked up to the second floor. To my right were two bedrooms that looked unused, full of furniture but not much else. I went in to check the closets, and found that the closet in the first room was packed floor to ceiling with sheets, still wrapped in their plastic. Pillows. Comforters. The closets in the second room held pants, men’s shirts, more than I could ever imagine owning, at least ten of each item. The floor was lined with men’s sneakers and dress shoes. I shook my head and started to close the door. This job was going to be a bust unless the master bedroom had anything useful in it. I swiped at my nose, rubbed my eyes, cursing who ever had gotten me sick. I turned toward the door, and there was someone standing there, just outside the room, in the hallway.

Shit
.

He was looking at me. I recognized him from the few times I’d cased the house before. Tall. Skinny, which made me wonder how much of a fight he’d put up when I tried to push past him. Dark brown hair, brown eyes. He was dressed in a plain white t-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants.