NOVEL NEXT Interlude - Globetrotter I
An electrical current races through my body, causing my muscles to convulse and spasm. The Tinkertech device strapped to my wrist did its job of shocking me awake. My eyes flash open, and I take in my surroundings. The wind blasting my ears and the sheer amount of blue around me tell me two things: I'm not in my bed anymore, and I'm thousands of feet in the air above who knows where. How the hell is this helpful? Why am I here?
Twisting in the air, I turn myself so I'm looking down toward the ground, with all the clouds around me. The altitude and number of clouds make seeing my drop destination almost impossible. The wind sends my hair everywhere and makes it nearly impossible to open my mouth or eyes. My clothes are flapping wildly from the wind buffeting me. Most people would be terrified to be suddenly teleported into the open sky, and so was I, the first time it happened. But after years of having my power, this doesn't even faze me anymore. I extend my limbs out, creating more surface area for the wind to catch and slowing my speed slightly.
I burst through a cloud, soaking my pajamas, but I'm able to finally see the ground below. Not a lot of green or blue, so not the ocean or jungle. Everything is so far away that the shapes aren't distinct enough to be recognized. It doesn't really matter where I'm headed; I'm not in any danger, but I am curious. The odds that it will be somewhere new are high, and it's my job to figure out why I'm here if I want to get out of here. The farther I fall, the clearer it becomes that I'm falling into the middle of a desert. The fast approaching blend of browns, tans, and rusty reds doesn't look familiar to anywhere I can recall—definitely a new location. I pass giant rock spires as I careen toward the earth. Right before my descent turns me into human paste, I teleport again.
Automatic teleportation in regard to danger sounds awesome as a superpower; if you don't have to worry about dodging attacks, you could become an unstoppable force for good or evil. But in practice, it isn't anything but a curse. My teleportation isn't just in response to danger; it can also teleport me anywhere it decides I need to be, and I have zero control over it. I've met multiple Neuvohumans who refer to their abilities as passengers, but mine isn't a passenger; it's the driver. I'm just the passenger princess who doesn't get to make suggestions.
The BNA keeps a record of all known abilities, giving a codename to each one. If my ability had a name, it would be Omniscient Pilot. An unseen, invisible being who sends me to places that will benefit me, but without the knowledge of what exactly I'm supposed to do. Going from brushing my teeth in my apartment in Newark, New Jersey, to standing in the middle of a vault as a robbery is happening in Kyoto, Japan. And without any warning sucks, either. Then the question becomes, am I here to stop the robbery and be rewarded? Am I supposed to pocket some of it because the cameras have all been shut down and the place is surrounded by the police? Is one of the criminals someone who will one day save my life? If you guessed none of the above, then you'd be correct. As soon as I appeared, the criminals fired their guns at me. But by the time they had started shooting, I was already gone. The enclosed space, the number of guns, and the ricochet made quick work of all of the assailants by the time I was back in my apartment. My power can make me an accomplice or witness to any crime you can imagine.
You might be wondering why I'm thinking of an event that took place six years ago, while up until a second ago, I was just falling thousands of feet into the desert. The answer to that is because of the similarity between that adventure and my current predicament. Standing in the middle of what seems to be a command center, based on the number of people sitting in front of computers and the amount of tech in here. A giant monitor displays a feed that looks to be from the desert I just saw. Surrounded by soldiers with guns pointed at me and several men and women in suits, clue me into the fact that I'm almost certainly not somewhere I'm supposed to be. Hah, that's never stopped me before.
"State your name, affiliation, and reason for entering this secure area, or I will have you lit up like a Christmas tree," an older man barked at me.
He's a real character. Salt and pepper buzzcut, face covered in more burn scars than a journeyman welder's hands. Gramps is in great shape, his tailored suit making his body outline even more impressive. If only he weren't so hard to look at. More of a copper fox than a silver one. Or maybe a silver coyote? I can't tell if the scowl he's giving me is a representation of his usual demeanor or if my appearance has specifically upset him. Looking around, I'm struggling to find out why the hell I should be here. More importantly, why the hell did I have to fall through the air if this was my destination? There's nothing about this secret lab that makes it more or less special than the other secret labs I've visited.
"I'm the Wayward Wanderer, and I'd say I'm a fan of the New Jersey Devils. Before you say it, I know we're not having a great season right now, but I'm telling you our rebuild is going to be awesome. As to why I'm here, it really depends on what's going on here. Are you guys doing something really bad here? Like world-ending bad?" I asked.
"The NHL team sent you?" Someone asked from one of the computers.
"Silence," the copper fox shouted. "Who alerted you to us? Who sent you?"
"So that's a yes, you're up to some world-ending fuckery. No one alerted me to anything. I just got here. I'm still trying to figure out what I'm supposed to gain from this. What are you watching out there in the desert? Is this a chemical thing, or a big bomb, or some sort of Kaiju creation experiment? Truthfully, I haven't really had much experience in stopping bad guys from unleashing untold horrors, so it might take me some time to get going," I said.
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"Kill the clown."
The four soldiers pull the triggers on their weapons in sync, and I'm gone before I hear the sound. The method of my power isn't known to me, it's just instant. From the initial activation to when I arrive in the new place, there isn't any passage of time. I'm now just behind the man who just tried to have his soldiers murder me. I'm just going to assume I need to stop these people and that the specifics don't matter much. I slam a chop into the left side of his neck and reach for his holstered gun on the right side I spotted when I first got here. The sound of me cocking the pistol has the rest of the people staring at me, holding the copper fox hostage.
"Let's start over," I said, pressing the barrel to the base of his skull. "Tell your goon squad to drop the guns, or I'll turn this hostage situation into a snuff film."
"You kill me, and you won't get out of here alive," my hostage said.
"If they don't lower the guns, none of you are getting out of here alive. Do not test me. I'm not going to repeat myself again," I responded.
"You wouldn't da-"
The bullet goes clean through his lower back and out his groin. He roars in agony, and it's only thanks to me holding the back of his suit that keeps him upright. Blood is pouring out of whatever remains of his cock and balls. He's not dead or paralyzed; he should be thankful. The soldiers start to spread out until I plant the gun against his temple.
"Uh-uh. Guns. Floor. Now. He's not going to die from this unless you all take your time. If you surrender quickly enough, you can get him to a surgeon, and they can get the hole stitched up. Don't get me wrong, he's going to need the dick equivalent of an iron lung if he wants to be able to pee correctly, but he'll be alive," I said.
My hostage is still moaning in pain, so the grunts look toward a woman wearing a lab coat. She doesn't look quite as evil as Burnface, but she's got a tight bob held up by a long needle and glasses that she has to keep pushing back into place. Definitely the evil scientist responsible for creating whatever world-ending fuckery they've got going on. She takes a step toward us, and I pretend to pull the trigger, causing her to stop.
"Do as ze interloper said," the woman said in a cartoonishly evil-sounding German accent.
They acquiesce, raising their hands as they gently place the rifles on the floor.
"Good job, fellas. You might be able to get home to your families. Kick all the guns away. And you, doctor," I paused, looking around the room and coming to a startling realization about the diversity and racial makeup of the room I'm in. "What the hell are you goose-stepping ghouls cooking up here. What type of heinous nazi science are you attempting?"
None of the nazis, because what else do you call an all-white group of evil people doing world-ending fuckery in the desert, responds to me. I grow more confident by the minute that my power brought me here to stop them. If history has taught me anything, it's that the only good nazi is a dead nazi. I can't remember the last time my power gave me such a straightforward route. It's a nice change of pace from the endless puzzling quests. All I have to do is kill some nazis and I get to go home. Easy.
The sound of me blowing copper fox's brains out is followed by a cacophony of gasps and angry yelling in German by the scientist. I shove the dead man's body forward and check the magazine. Fifteen bullets left. What happens next might surprise you, but I don't use the remaining bullets on the grunts; I shoot all of the workers sitting at their consoles. Sympathizers don't get any lenience. If they've helped make a giant racist robot or some kind of undead plague that only targets minorities, then they get their tickets punched, too. No witnesses. While shooting the Uberdorks, the grunts make a beeline for their guns. It's not going to make a difference, but they make the same mistake again and shoot at me.
Appearing right next to the doctor, I drive my fist into her stomach, and she keels over. The long needle is thick enough to do damage, but thin enough to get through her ear canal easily. I jam it in and crank it around like I'm priming a jack-in-the-box toy. Once my acupuncture assassination turns her brain into a skull smoothie, she drops to the floor dead. I wipe the needle against my jeans, cleaning nazi noggin nectar off it. Four left. The inside of my jacket has my cigarettes, which I pull out and flick one up into the air, catching it between my lips. I reach for the lighter in my back left pocket just as another burst of gunfire comes at me.
My Omniscient Pilot takes me exactly where I need to be, which in this case is out of danger and into an opportune spot to stab someone in the neck. Their helmets prevent me from stabbing their eyes or ears, so I'm forced to jab them in the jugular over and over. Rinse and repeat, I stab and stab, creating so many holes in each of their necks, it'd give a trypophobe a panic attack. When the last nazi falls to the floor, I allow myself to finally grab the lighter. The sound of the lighter flickering is like ASMR for my soul. And the first inhale instantly starts to calm me down, centering me, and allowing me to distance myself from the gruesome scene I'm surrounded by. I take a deep drag, wiping the needle clean again, and try to figure out how I'm going to sabotage all this shit. I just know that I'm stuck until I can blow it all to kingdom come.
"I'd love a hint, you know. Like it doesn't have to be blatant, like having the self-destruct button glow, but some yellow painted arrows on the ground would be appreciated," I mumbled.
My power doesn't respond to me, obviously, but it never hurts to try. You never know who might be listening; maybe Mr. Magnificent is nearby, and he could just destroy it all for me. He does owe me five dollars; I'm sure I could get him to do me a solid if I forgive his debt. I wander around the room, looking for anything that might be capable of exploding the place, but I come up unsuccessful. That leaves me with only one option: picking up an assault rifle in each hand and shooting everything until it breaks.
"SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!"