Duskfall

1. Patrol

The aluminum baseball bat caved in with a dull thunk as it hit her head. Lia rolled her eyes and turned around to face the culprit. Bullets would have stung. But a baseball bat? That was just insulting. Lia snatched the bat and bent it over her knee--the whining creak of metal ringing through the night. The would-be robber at least had the grace to look scared when she clasped both of his wrists in one hand.

She towered over him. It wasn't that surprising. She towered over most people, but she had more than a foot on this sweating, trembling mess. A kid, she realized with sudden conviction. One look into his wide eyes, left visible through the slit in his ski mask, removed any doubt. Lia sighed as she dragged him to the front of the tiny liquor store and secured him to his two friends with a zip tie. The cashier was already on the phone with the police. He gave Lia a brief wary look, as if she might change her mind and take over the robbery herself--as if parading around all decked out in superpowers and spandex didn't mean anything anymore.

No, that wasn't true. It was as if it didn't mean anything coming from her. It was different for people like Aegis or Nightdarter or the Order of Defenders--famed phenoms who spent their time defending the populace from real threats. People who did real, calculable good in the world. Lia mostly spent her evenings trying to ward off kids who needed an after-school program or a community that cared about them far more than they needed a trip to juvie.

She slipped back into the night without fanfare. Two bounding steps and a leap took her to the top of a nearby apartment building, her combat boots thudding against the cement. It was a clear night. The lights of Kingston City shone bright against the cloudless sky and joined the moon in reflecting off of the bay. She couldn't even blame the weather for her poor mood.

In the distance, sirens rang out over the normal clamor of city sounds. For a moment, Lia considered leaving it. She considered going home to her tiny apartment and calling it a night. Lately, she couldn't help but wonder if this dream was a childish one. Ability didn't make you a hero. Intent didn't mean that you were making a difference. Wanting didn't mean that you actually belonged. For a moment, it all crashed down on her, a weight--a longing, a desperation, a loneliness--too much for even her to bear.

But only for a moment.

The privilege of her incredible strength was not--could not--be taken for granted. She had helped people. Not entire cities or countries' worth, but lives had been saved because she refused to stand aside. It wasn't everything she'd always dreamed of, but it certainly wasn't anything to regret. Or to give up on. Her parents had taught her better than that.

With barely a pause, Lia turned, jumped, and chased the sound of sirens.

#

The remainder of the evening brought: two fires, an aborted twelve-car pile-up, and a botched burglary that ended with Lia having to rescue the thief from a two-story drop. The exertion, and subsequent weariness, had chased away any lingering traces of maudlin thought. Her face and hair were streaked with ash even under her hood, and there was an ache beginning between her shoulder blades communicating very clearly: either catch a semi skidding out at 80 miles per hour or play support beam for a collapsing 30-story building in a single night, but not both.

The city wasn't quiet--that was an unheard of occurrence--but there was also nothing so pressing that she couldn't go home and soak in her dinky bathtub for an hour or six. She dropped into an alley a mile or so away from her apartment to make herself presentable. The chance of a 6'7" blue woman walking unnoticed through her apartment building was not one she was willing to take.

Her parents were the only ones who'd ever seen her change. She would never forget their terrified faces the very first time. Daddy had cried when she was finished, and Mama had wrapped Lia in her arms without regard for the physical differences, voice thick with emotion as she murmured muddled thanks that her baby girl was all right. It had been difficult to convince them that it didn't hurt. Lia wouldn't call it comfortable, but it looked worse than it was. She tensed and spasmed as she literally shrank, shoulders narrowing, muscles fading, bones shortening as she lost half a foot in height, the alien blue cast of her skin shifting back to warm brown hues. It was all only a buzzing under her skin, a paralyzing vibration that did its work then flowed from her before things like pain had a chance to register.