CHAPTER 2
SIN OF COWARDICE, part 5

...

… …

… … …!

“France! You brought me to France! What kind of lunatic kidnaps a stranger to ask a favor in another country?”

I’ve only just regained consciousness inside Deck’s flying vehicle. From the inside, it looks like an airplane cockpit. The walls are indigo, and it’s quite spacious. It would even feel like being in first class, if not for the fact that I was taken away against my will.

“You left me no choice,” he says, trying in vain to justify himself.

“Go to hell! You just kidnapped me!”

Damn him! He had taken me out with some kind of stun gun. I hate sneak attacks.

“Look, I wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been an emergency.”

“And there I was, confiding in you,” I say, unable to hide my regret.

“Stop whining. I’m doing both you and your species a favor,” he says with contempt, as he tries to focus on flying.

“What’s with the attitude? I should’ve known your words were just a ploy to get me to follow you. Then, when playing nice failed, you decided to go with plan B.”

“Believe it or not, I don’t care. But I really meant everything I told you. I never lied to you.”

“Take me home!”

“Come on, we’ve just arrived at our destination.”

Through the windshield, I can admire the Eiffel Tower in all its splendor, its hundreds of feet of majesty, the symbol of Paris.

We land directly beneath the tower, between the four iron beams. No one can see us or the ship, since Deck has activated the vehicle’s stealth mode. Not that it matters much. There isn’t a soul here in the heart of Paris.

“If you needed a tour guide, you should probably know that I’ve only been here once. Can I ask what—?”

“Put this on,” he says, tossing me a box.

“Is it a gift?” I open it, and once I do, I realize what he’s trying to force me to do. “Forget it. I don’t want it. Find yourself another hero,” I say, snapping the box shut and throwing it to the ground, indifferent to how he might react.

“Another mutant has unlocked his powers.”

Deck turns on the monitor in front of me—the same one that had been serving as a GPS. A French news channel is broadcasting what’s happening nearby and explaining why the area is so deserted.

“There’s no one outside because people have holed up in their homes, hoping the situation will improve. But it can only get worse. You and I both know it. I’m not asking you to be a full-time hero, just to be one for today.”

I watch the screen in horror as people flee the area around the Louvre. Law enforcement officers are shooting at anyone in their line of sight and taking cover behind their car doors, but they’re being overwhelmed by some kind of barely visible force.

I feel a sharp pang in my heart when I spot a little girl in tears with no parents around to protect her. I’m afraid to learn what might have happened to them. Suddenly, the shot rotates horizontally along the ground. The camera must have fallen.

“I…”

My thoughts are pulled away by the camera’s view of the probable mutant. He’s holding a long, thin object. It looks like a staff, but judging by how he’s holding it, it can’t be.

“Jones, if you can actually order me out loud to go back to Marchirolo right now, I swear I’ll do it without hesitation.”

As I try to think of how to reply, the broadcast cuts out due to a surge of energy emitted by the mutant himself. The static noise combined with the colored stripes of a dead signal leave far too much to my imagination. I have no other choice.

“Thanks for not picking anything tight-fitting to put in here.”

People are running around in a panic, looking for safety. In their rush, they’re quick to shove one another and trample anyone who falls to the ground. In this atmosphere of terror, no one can blame anyone else.

A section of the Louvre Museum is slowly sliding away from the rest of the building. Many people are trying to avoid being crushed by it, but some can’t get out of the way in time because they’re badly injured.

A fencer in full gear is wielding a foil and manages to keep everyone at bay with a simple “straight thrust” stance.

“Aucun de vous fait un autre pas!” Unfortunately, I don’t understand French, so I can only guess what he ordered them to do. Or, in this case, what not to do.

“J’ai te vu!” An elderly gentleman threw out his back at the worst possible moment, and that was all it took to alarm the fencer. He slashes through the air and sends a blade of wind toward the old man. It’s sharp enough to slice his cane in half.

“Oh Parbleu!” the old man exclaims.

All the hostages scream in terror as the fencer unleashes more blades of wind to force them to stay in line. He’s clearly taking care to avoid hitting anyone as the blades pass just above their heads. I’d call them “warning slashes.”

“Ce n’est pas ma faute, ce sont les personnes superficielles comme vous qui me force à réagir dans cette manière, croyez vous que je voulais tous ça?”

None of them seem willing to argue with whatever he’s saying, and rightly so. Nothing would calm him down.

“Quelqu’un doit payer, tout le monde payera!” With another slash, he creates a blade of wind, at least a couple feet long, that heads straight for the hostages. Hopeless, they make a desperate attempt to flee. But the moment a loud boom rings out, they realize, to their surprise, that they’ve come through unscathed.

Looking ahead, they see an individual in a biker jacket with a camouflage pattern of steel-gray and black splotches, like the aura surrounding him... surronding me