22:48 Hours

After her long day of constant complaints, Rosemary was happy to board the city bus home. She worked well past ten at night, but the bus was typically late coming back, so she was able to catch the last ride to her neighborhood. Her husband, Ambrose, hated her taking the bus so late, but neither of them could afford a car, and they lived close enough to their jobs that it didn’t matter to her. 

Ambrose worked the early morning shift, so he was typically back home by one or two in the afternoon. Now, Rosemary didn’t like working the late shift, but she didn’t particularly like getting up early, either, and her work needed her to be flexible the most this time around. So, she took whatever hours and days they scheduled her on without any arguments on her behalf. Except Sundays. God made the sacrifice for her, so she could sacrifice her Sunday mornings for him.

In general, she felt a lot safer on the bus than walking the dark streets and alleyways alone at night, which was exactly what she had to face at the drop off whenever she worked the evening shift. Rosemary considered it a blessing from God that her crooked apartment building was mostly free of villainy—not counting the pesky young adults who ran a drug cartel on the top floor, of course.

(They were not villains, by any means, but they sure were hooligans who weren’t afraid to use a gun if need-be. Rosemary would know given the number of “shoot-outs” she’d caught from her apartment’s glass balcony door.)

Despite this, Jack joined her husband’s team when he had pulled Rosemary aside after she’d packed up for the rest of the night.

“Be careful, Rose,” Jack had said, and Rosemary honed in on the slight pinch in his left eyebrow. “I know you’re stubborn and take that bus home, but I heard through the grapevine that peeps think that supervillain is gearing up for some big move again. Could be right in your vicinity, and he loves to sneak around at night.”

“You mean that Waves fella?” Rosemary said in a slow fashion, then waved her hand in front of her face. “Oh, please! He acts like the sun comes up just to see him crow, but he ain’t gonna care bout no ole lady like me.”

She’d fixed him with her signature half-smile, not showing any teeth. “But thanks for coverin’ for me earlier, dearie, and stayin’ over for us. Y’know I can’t hold my water well since I’d done had a kid and two miscarriages.”

Rosemary had already used up all of the allotted breaks a normal customer care representative would be given for the day before her call with the pregnant man, and she’d really had to go afterwards. She was a supervisor, yes, but that didn’t mean she felt right about taking so many breaks. Since Jack didn’t tend to go often, he offered up his break to her when she asked and took over her station. She thanked God every day for blessing her with such an angel—he was the best call representative on her team for sure!

“Yeah, yeah, I know!” Jack laughed and leaned back in his office chair, waving his hand in front of his face like Rosemary had. “Just go on and get home before your husband calls and chews me out again!”

Rosemary smiled at the memory of the last time her husband had called Jack, as the man had lamented to her about, and deboarded the bus. Her second-hand Coach slipped off her shoulder going down the narrow steps, so she tugged it back up as she shuffled along the sidewalk, eager to reach her apartment and clean up for the night. After taking ten or so more calls from hell following the strange pregnant man case, Rosemary had forgotten to finish up her draft for the team that handled special cases like theirs, so she’d made a sticky note for the next day to take care of the matter right away. She could at least try to get an exception made for the pregnant man!

There was this prickling sensation nagging at the back of her mind, and Rosemary wondered what it was all about. Sure, the streets were empty for a warm spring night, but that wasn’t too weird to her. The local teens and other hooligans were probably partying with her upstairs neighbors, buying up their overpriced substances.

When Rosemary reached the alleyway between the abandoned RadioShack at the end of the electronic store plaza and her neighboring apartment building, she heard a loud gasp and an odd thumping sound. Despite the fact that riffraff often ran wild in her neighborhood, she looked into the dark alley on instinct—only to immediately stop right in her tracks. 

Rosemary saw the backside of a stark white uniform with pointed shoulder pads, and it was perfectly tailored to the tall person. Although she couldn’t see the infamous, refractive dome-for-a-mask, Rosemary could feel the difference in the air from where this man stood just before the dumpster, and where she was still frozen in-place on the sidewalk. The air on the sidewalk was cool, but the alleyway felt dry and devoid of any sound--as if Rosemary had put on a pair of noise canceling headphones. The man was kicking some poor schmuck on the ground, and Rosemary felt as if her dark skin had lost all of its color.

Waves.

Aka, the supervillain Jack tried to warn her about, and the whole world’s worst villain to-date. He’d been around since the meteor had first crashed, and was certainly behind the organized attack against the White House in 1982. In fact, Rosemary had heard some speculate the man wasn’t even human with the way he referred to everyone as animals; namely, “hairless monkeys” since man supposedly evolved from the mammals. The news footage of him was limited, but there wasn’t a soul who didn’t know of his existence and catastrophic crimes, the way he could bring whole buildings down or put huge craters into the Earth with just a flick of the wrist. 

And he always appeared in that same white uniform, as if he was a doctor or lab worker who firmly believed in a bleached-out lifestyle.

This “man” wasn’t simply any ordinary villain: he was a supervillain, whose capabilities could only be matched by Menthol City’s own number one superhero, “Rage.” If only that hero could see him now, making tracks in Rosemary’s dingy neighborhood. 

All alone.

Granted, Waves was a lone wolf to begin with, but something about it never sat right with Rosemary. He may be super powerful, but everybody has to have somebody to keep them in-check. Although, she supposed that was probably why he was such a loose cannon.

Because he had nobody at home.

While he appeared to be distracted, Rosemary tiptoed back in front of the RadioShack and pondered whether the hole in one of the glass doors was big enough for her to fit through. Was it stupid to do in the first place? Hell yes! But while her apartment was only one more building down, there was the chance the supervillain already knew she had seen him, so like hell was she going to lead him to her husband and, possibly, her daughter as well. Milley, her Hero Corp. employee daughter, would’ve been too easy to call had Waves’ ears not been so sensitive to sound, too.

She also didn’t want to endanger anyone else in the building because of one little call, so she’d text Milley once she was safe inside the RadioShack.

Rosemary lifted a leg and stepped through the hole, her skirt nearly catching on the sharp edges. She also almost slipped on the glass shards left behind the door on the inside, and her hamstrings twitched from the extra stretch, but she’d made it inside by some miracle.

A quick scan of the ransacked environment revealed two choices: she could either attempt to open the back door that was likely sealed shut, or hide under the front counter. Either way, she was definitely not going to use one of the tattered tents in the far-left corners. She only hoped they were abandoned homeless camps.

“Did you really think I did not hear you coming?”

A warbled, distorted male voice hissed right into Rosemary’s ear, riding some invisible line while he likely remained in his position. Her heart beat so fast she thought she’d have a stroke long before the wicked man reached her, and her knees popped when she bent down to huddle under the front counter, forgetting all about the back door.

Please, sweet Lord, Heaven Almighty, Rosemary prayed as she brought her legs in close, purse squished between them and her chest. Please don’t let him find my family! 

She couldn’t hide for long, and she certainly couldn’t outrun him, so it was all she could do to pray as all the sound seemed to be sucked from the air. 

The sound of Waves’ feet touching base with the ground was the only thing Rosemary heard through the eerie silence—save for her own labored breathing, of course.

“Two options,” Waves said, the warbled voice distorting around her. “You can either come out yourself, or I can force you out in two seconds. Your choice.”