Chương 9: All in a Night's Work

Grandma didn't stop her screaming until I leaned over. She had her hands up clutching her head and she looked at me in horror. I reached down with my free hand to pull her up as the other waved the knife at the man crying in soprano.

"You okay?" I gasped, trying to steady the both of us by clamping onto her wrinkled arm.

"Oh my goodness!" She repeated it over and over until I was certain that was the only English she knew. The guy on the pavement was groaning while going through a checklist of swear words. He was shaking and might have been having some kind of schizophrenic episode because he kept yelling at the ground.

"What did you do back there, young lady?" She stared at the knife clutched in my hand.

"I…" I stared at her. My brain was skipping like a record.

"He's a junkie, they're unsurprisingly weak." A woman rushed out of the store next to us.

"I called the police and the super hotline, they should be here any minute!" She put a hand on my shoulder.

"Are you alright?" I nodded, even though the vomit in my throat was putting out an eviction notice. My legs were shaky and the woman stared at me like I was about to collapse. Not far from the truth. Sirens wailed in the distance. Blue and red lights shone in the dark. A cruiser screeched up to the curb and the woman who called waved both hands at them. Two officers rushed out, hands at their holsters. They quickly drew out their guns. One pointed at the guy on the ground. The other one pointed at me.

Knife still in hand. Oops. I dropped it immediately.

"Not mine!" My voice cracked like a middleschooler's.

"Seriously, I'm not robbing old ladies in the street!" Their flashlights blinded me as they closed in.

"We got a call about a disturbance, are you the one that called, ma'am?" His eyes cut to the woman holding me, but his gun stayed steady.

"Yes, that guy was trying to rob this lady and she…" Her head jerked at me, mouth hanging open.

"Took the knife and… knocked him down, I guess." The policeman's gun lowered a little.

"Is that true, miss?" Druggo answered for me, only he was telling the sidewalk, not the policemen.

"She jumped me! I want to press charges! Put her in jail!" I nodded and tried to explain, but it was more gasps than words.

"I saw him walk up to Robin Williams there… he tried to take her purse, and I don't know, I just… I knocked the knife out of his hand and kicked and he went down. I- I think he's on a lot of drugs." There. Perfectly believable.

"Are you too, Miss?" He asked in his thick midwestern, Fargo accent, shining the flashlight directly into my eyes. I leaned forward, putting my shaking hands on my knees.

"Yes, it's called over-ambition." He turns to his comrade.

"Hey, is that a new thing the kids are calling it today? Like with the PCP?"

"No, Stan, she's making a joke. A bad one." Stan turned back to me, comb mustache bristling.

"Alright, miss. Well, we're going to get an official statement, then you can go. Right now, sit tight, try to breathe." Stan crouched down to Twitchy's level.

"Hands behind your back." You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"She took my knife!" He screamed out, spit spraying into the night air.

"She assaulted me!" Mustache clamped one of his jerking arms and shoved it down, latching a handcuff to it. Druggo thrashed, flailing his other arm and crying out, "You don't understand, she's got powers!" The second cop heard that and turned to look at me. My heart beat so loudly it was hard to hear anything else.

"She tried to kill me with them!" His other hand got caught and cuffed with a loud metallic click. They stood him up, walked him to the cruiser, pushed his head down and shoved him in. The police car swallowed most of his tirades about injustice and lawyers, but you could still hear it. The lady stood near the old woman, who was wrapped in a blanket, huddled on the curb. They were each giving their version of events while the police officers recorded it. Knees shaking, I slowly sat down on the cold pavement.

My feet were itching to run away, but that would just bring more scrutiny. Instead, I just had to lean into my shaken, scared, exhausted side which wasn't hard to do. Non-Stan comes up to me, his eyebrows sunk together.

"You said you knocked the knife out of his hand, but when we drove up, you were holding the knife and pointing it at him." I brushed my hair back behind my ears.

"Yeah, I- I scrambled to get it after, just in case."

"The guy says you punched and kicked him at the same time. Are you trained in martial arts?" My skin prickled and I hugged my arms around myself.

"Uh, nope, just wise in the ways of panic." He kept looking at me with his narrowed eyes and a toothpick sticking out of his mouth. The cop car's engine was still running and we could all hear the muffled shouting of Crackhead from the back. Give it a few minutes and I might be in there with him. Cops knew the signs. They were usually the ones to report anyone who is a little too strong, a little too fast.

"He says you took the knife right outta his hand. That true?" I scoffed, raising an eyebrow, even as my pulse jackhammered my throat.

"That dude's out of his mind. He dropped it when I shoved his hand." He was still looking at me with skeptical eyes. I put my hands out, palms up.

"Does it look like I have cut marks?" His eyes glanced over my perfectly smooth, not-a-slice-on-them hands. Then the toothpick pointed directly at me.

"Well, you called that old lady over there Robin Williams, so maybe you're the crazy one, huh?" My mouth hung open for a while.

"There's a movie … and…um... I'm actually just… extremely rude. It's a problem." Wood Chewer stared at me, thinking it over.

"Hey Stan," he called out, not turning his head away.

"We got super back up coming?"

"Nah, they said Ramrod's across town, trying to blow up a bank or something. Everyone's busy." He gave me a final study.

"Alright, Miss Rude. Guess you're off the hook. We're grateful you were around to help." I was about to turn my heel and escape when I heard a soft cry of "Wait!" The old lady had ambled over and reached out to hold onto my arm.

"Thank you! They explained everything to me. I couldn't see it all when it happened, but you saved me. Can I ask your name?"

"Cass," I said before I could think about it.

"Thank you, Cass. And God bless you."

"Oh." My hand reached out to give a strange pat on her arm. I can feel a smile growing on my lips.

"You're welcome. Just glad everything worked out." She shook her head, wisps of white hair rising in the breeze.

"I don't know how you overpowered him, you're so small." The cops were near the patrol car, but sound carried well on a city street. Toothpick turned his head towards us. That was my cue to exit.

"Mall walking," I tell her straight-faced, starting to walk backwards.

"Highly recommend. You'll get jacked in no time." Her perplexed expression was the last thing I saw before turning. —----- I stalked my way home. All around me, the city lights and signs became streaks of Kandinsky color because my body wouldn't stop shaking. My mind kept replaying what happened on endless loop like an infomercial at two AM. Here was the good: I didn't die. I'd give that aspect an A+, particularly for its surprise element. My power was less atrophied which had to be a good thing.

I also saved the day, which was another shocker. And to top it all off, I wasn't arrested nor found out by the police. This felt like the biggest heist of the century. But then there was the bad: I was very nearly caught. My power almost didn't come in time. If I get involved in another altercation, the police would definitely notice. If this was my future, these problems had to be fixed for the next time. A mask to hide my identity shouldn't be too hard.

There had to be plenty of teenage henchmen and junior heroes running around, it couldn't just be me. Then there was the problem of wait time. Right now I had no control over when my power started and that left a lot of loopholes for criminals to do nefarious things. I could use some type of distraction or even a weapon, something to fall back on in case my power didn't activate in time. Fortunately, I knew someone who might be able to help.