Anomaly

Insubordinate

The city bus hurtled through the starless sky before falling back to Earth with a metallic crunch.

I looked to my team members, who were huddled behind a postal truck trembling in fear, and sighed.

Great. We're going to be here for hours.

"Nichols!" our team leader, Agent Shankar, whispered angrily. "Is this boring you?"

Truthfully, yes, it was. The Anomaly we were facing today didn't even scratch the surface of terrifying. I had been in simulations before with ones that could turn themselves inside out or conjure up your worst fears. One even vomited acid. That had been a real treat.

This one had superhuman senses. Like I said – not even close to terrifying.

But my team for this sim was comprised of five brand new agents, so I understood why most of them looked like they were about to cry. Our Academy had ridiculously powerful technology, making it easy to lose track of the fact that everything around you was computer generated. And this sim was set in an abandoned city at night, which was definitely a setting on the creepier end of the spectrum.

Maybe I also should have cut Shankar some slack, given that she was as new as the rest of them. It wasn't her fault that the Academy had chosen to make her the leader for this sim instead of me, the person who actually had experience. Past me would have protested the decision, but I stopped doing that years ago after I kept receiving the same response:

"These agents will be out in the field in six months, Seth. You can't go until you turn 18. They need the leadership training more than you do right now."

The rationale didn't make it any less infuriating. And it also didn't mean I had to sit idly by as Shankar led us down a path of certain failure. 

"Just wondering if the plan is to wait around while this creature goes on a rampage," I asked pointedly.

"Shut up, Nichols!" Shankar whispered.

"You all need to relax." I didn't bother to lower my voice. Why would I? If any of them had studied our pre-mission file or had an ounce of commonsense, they would realize that this Anomaly's superhuman senses included superhuman hearing. It could definitely hear the agents' hearts beating out of their chests.

Hell, I could practically hear that.

"You might not care about this assessment, but the rest of us do," Shankar shot back.

Well, I was going to let you lead this mission, Shankar. Until you said that.

"Of course I care," I snapped. "I care so much that it's probably best I handle this myself."

"Nichols, don't you dare. Nichols!"

But I had already emerged from behind the postal truck.

The block was eerily empty – litter blowing across the abandoned road like tumbleweed, streetlights flickering ominously – but the creature was nowhere in sight. I'm sure it could see me, while I couldn't see it.

Let's level the playing field, then.

I lobbed a grenade as far ahead of me as I could. A brilliant flash and deafening explosion followed.

That was the trick with Anomalies: figuring out how to turn their strengths into weaknesses.

Sure enough, a gnarled figure stumbled into the street, eyes closed, hands covering its ears, mouth open in a silent scream.

Gotcha.

The thrill of the chase flooded through me as I nimbly navigated my way towards my target. Obstacles were opportunities: A bench became a springboard to vault myself through the air, scaffolding became bars to propel myself forward.