Influx (Book Four)

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Tinkering at my lab table, I check the clock and see it almost six at night. The deadline on my one project got pushed up significantly but I don't mind, I am used to working long hours and I've hardly seen Click all week because of her final exams. I had spent most of the weekend cooking so that she could just eat as she needed to. Finally finishing up for the evening, I stretch a bit before packing everything up.

Rewrapping my heavier scarf around my neck, I peer into Aviva's lab and find it empty. We have been mostly communicating via email these last two weeks, ever since I came back with my arm torn up from a bullet, even she has been avoiding me. It's probably for the better anyway, I shouldn't continue to mix myself up with the craziness they bring. Walking out of work, the air is thick with humidity and the cold is bone-chilling. Pulling my coat closer, I tuck my watch further in my sleeve and take off my glasses.

When I finally arrive home, I can see a note from Click on the counter. She went back to campus to study and get work done, I shouldn't expect her home for a while. Drumming my fingers on the counter, I watch as the storm clouds continue to roll out. Whipping up dinner with ease, I leave the leftovers in the fridge and I send her a text. Plopping down at my small desk, I work on my laptop and review the schematics for the boots and start ripping the apart in my notebook. I write down and sketch schematics for a while before I grow bored. Every day feels harder and harder to focus.

Changing into an all-black outfit I rip my scarf off and pull my hair back. Yanking the mask into place, I don't hesitate when I head towards the roof. The winds are still pretty uneasy, but I should be fine to fly, I've certainly gone out in much worse weather. Hooking my feet onto the board, I see that it has a full charge and my watch has half, I should be fine.

As I take off to the sky, I can't help but think about all of the stress Click has been under, but how happy she seems. I know she started talking to the three Metac kids a lot, but she hasn't told them yet that she is the child of a survivor of a Metac camp, it's a conversation she really wants to have but hasn't figured out how to approach yet. I wish I could give her advice or guidance, but I have no clue on how to tackle that sort of conversation.

Wiping around a corner of a building, I slow down slightly not wanting to be blindsided by an oncoming helicopter. Continuing to just cruise the city, I do some large laps and become lost in my thoughts.

It's been almost three years since I first saved Click, I am sure she could have handled the situation, but what I saw just made me snap. I can still picture the side street I used to cut through on my way back from the grocery store, there she was, hand pinned to the wall and a knife to her throat. I didn't know she could turn her skin to metal at this point, but I was irritated and not in the mood to see some punk hurt a girl because he didn't know boundaries.

I don't remember what obscenities I started screaming at him, but I practically started sparking on the spot as I marched forward, groceries still in hand. He turned his attention away from her long enough for her to sucker punch him in the jaw and knock him off. I dropped my bags and without hesitation kicked the knife out of his hands and brought the kick back and kicked him in the temple.

He dropped to the ground from the shock of the blow and I didn't even have a moment to breathe before Click wound up for a powerful kick and knocked him into a wall five feet away. I was shocked by the sudden display of superhuman ability, but I wasn't fazed, strength like that was something I grew up next to. The asshole tried to get up, so I gave him one very large and healthy shock to knock him out for a long time.

Click looked at me with shock and respect as I picked up my spilled groceries. I still remember her kneeling next to me, trying to help me gather my spilled apples, as her blood dripped right onto my hand. I lifted my gaze and saw a one-inch slice on her neck, it didn't look particularly deep or concerning, but I wasn't taking any chances.