I helped Mom unpack and carried almost everything upstairs. I stacked the food and supplies in the kitchen. Everything else I put in one of the private rooms, giving her and Dad each a key. I told them to keep it locked up out of an abundance of caution and introduced Taylor to my parents. Danny showed up not long afterwards, and we repeated the process a second time.

  Taylor asked him for the paperwork from Carol, which he produced, now all filled out. I had a copy machine upstairs in my little operations center. One of those multi-purpose printer-scanner things that hooked up to computers. Taylor went upstairs to run off copies of everything.

  I stayed on the second floor and helped show Danny and my parents where to stash things and got him set up with a room of his own. We established ground rules, and I told Danny that if it came down to it, he could hold meetings here with members of the Union. I had that big briefing room downstairs, basically sitting empty; he could utilize it however he liked.

  That brought up the question of who owned this place and if we were squatting. I chuckled and explained the situation in very broad strokes. That I owned it outright, that I’d bought it from the city for a very low price, and had invested money in restoring it. There were about six hundred questions thrown my way, and I honestly told the three of them that, for right now, not to worry about it, because Taylor and I had a bunch of other things we had to address, and time was short.

  Danny was going to be busy contacting people and managing the dockworkers' situation. That left Mom and Dad. I figured that keeping her and Dad busy would be good for them. Mom worked as a software development manager in her day job, and she was good at it. I took her up to the mostly unused operations center I’d been working on and showed her around. I asked her to get the radios and scanners turned on, to start tracking incidents on police and PRT channels, sticking pins on the giant city map with noteworthy incidents, and to keep an eye on things using the security system feeds. She cracked her knuckles and got straight into it.

  I asked Dad to get started prepping the bunkhouse for guests because I had a feeling we were going to wind up with more people here in short order. I’d take in refugees if I could, but we’d have to be careful who we let in the walls. I also asked him to get a full inventory of our consumables so we could track how quickly we were going through things like food, fuel, water, and medical supplies. That was a big project itself.

  Danny was downstairs, setting up paperwork on corkboards and working on the whiteboards I had in the briefing room. He had lists of names and phone numbers he was working through, checking off people one at a time. He turned to me when I walked in.

  “Morgan, I’ve been able to get in touch with a few of the other managers. They’re all on board and are reaching out to the people under them. We’ll start getting people rounded up immediately. From what they’re telling me, the docks district of the city was hit hard by the tidal waves.”

  I nodded. “Yes, it was. Railyards, docks, and boardwalks were hit very hard. A lot of the big warehouses and larger structures like the mall were nearly totally wiped off the map.”

  He hesitated a moment. Bad news, I expected.

  “Where are we going to offload and store all the supplies?”

  “So… I’m going over to PRT HQ later to discuss planning stuff like that. That’s probably not a call I should make, but I can put you in the same room with people who can make it. Does that work for you?”

  He nodded. “That works. In the meantime, I can continue reaching out to people.”

  “Worst case, Danny, the place has been swept clean of intact buildings. We take a bulldozer or something, push building wreckage out of the way, and wind up making walls or something with it. A big area to store things that are offloaded before they’re moved out to the different parts of the city.”

  A thought occurred to me. “You think you could round up maybe like half a dozen to a dozen of those big shipping containers? Empty ones, I mean, and ones that are intact.”

  He cleared his throat. “I mean, we probably could, but people own those; they’re worth a decent amount of money, even empty.”

  I looked at him. “Do people own them, or do corporations own them?”

  “Mostly the latter. Sometimes a private party will order something from overseas, but yeah, mostly shipping corporations.”

  “Well. What I’m hearing is that there is a handful of containers that got damaged and lost in building wreckage or out to sea. They’re all insured, I’d have to imagine. They’re filing claims for damages anyway.”

  He frowned a little, but remained quiet for a moment. “Can I ask what this is all about?”

  “Of course. I just had a thought. We have food, water, and electricity here. There’s going to be a lot of people looking for those things and needing shelter. The shelters are going to get used, but if I had to guess, they’re going to get pretty bad in terms of overcrowding and lack of space quickly, right?”

  He nodded.

  “So I can lift those containers. Bring them here. We use them as shelters for refugees, the homeless, and people in need. We can make a little improvised apartment block out of them, you know, like how people were doing with the storage facilities years ago? But we can set up some latrines and a kitchen, maybe out in the parking lot, or hell, use the street outside.”

  He drummed his fingertips on the desk and glanced up at the ceiling, thinking about it. “I see what you’re saying, yeah. Stackable modular dry spaces, people can set up a couple of beds and stay out of the weather. We’re not really… stealing them so much as we’re providing people with safety and shelter.”

  I snapped my fingers. “Precisely. Nobody is going to give a shit about using lost materials to save lives. Some corporate bean counter will turn up sooner or later, look for them, and you just report them as damaged or destroyed, or if we’re no longer using them, as recovered.”

  That got a firm nod out of him.

  “We can get a little refuge set up here, outside the building or the walls, and then when people start turning up, we’ll be a few steps ahead of things.”

  “Okay,” he said, “I’ll relay the information, tell people to keep an eye out for some, and we’ll mark out the locations for pickup and transport.”

  “Thanks, Danny,” I told him, trying to project a smile in my voice.

  He looked up at me and sighed. “I should be thanking you right now, not the other way around.” I waved a hand and dismissed the idea.

  “I’m happy to help out, but more than that, what we’re doing here is building up a system to be able to provide relief and assistance for others. Pay it forward.” I pulled a gate clicker out of my hair and held it out to him. He took it.

  “This is to operate the gate. Open it for your people, but don’t let anyone in who you don’t know personally or trust. As soon as word gets out that we have supplies and a good shelter here, bad sorts are going to beeline straight to us. And tell your people they can bring their families here for shelter and safety, but everyone is going to have to contribute. And not to talk about it. I’m trying to get in touch with some people to help keep this place safe while I’m gone.”

  “Okay… Apex,” he said, testing out the name in his mouth.

  “Imagine I’m smiling right now,” I told him.

  “Why don’t you?” He asked.

  I demonstrated why.

  “O-oh. Yeah. Okay. I’ll try to picture a different smile.”

  “Put a big pot of coffee on, Danny. It’s going to be a long night for everyone. Supplies are in the kitchen.”

  He nodded, and I left. Faultline called me and we had a short conversation. She was in a similar boat to me. Getting the club secured and set up for the families of her staff who were displaced. She also had generators and equipment. All of her team had made it through the fight. Spitfire broke her ankle and nearly drowned, but had gone to the hospital with the rest of the Endbringer responders for treatment. Labyrinth was having a really bad day today, and they hadn’t risked taking her out to the fight. Probably a good call.

  That brought us to the two big things I wanted to talk to her about.

  “Faultline, I have an ask for you, and a question.”

  She was in her office or something, I heard paperwork and things being shuffled around in the background. “Go on,” she told me.

  “I’m going to be running relief supplies to the city from Boston starting tonight or tomorrow morning. Probably the latter. First thing I’m doing is bringing in some portable desalination plants, and then it’s going to be bulk essentials and consumables.”

  “Okay,” the sounds stopped for a moment. I thought I had her full attention.

  “I want these supplies distributed fairly. Meaning, I want some of them coming to the black hats and their people in the city.”

  “People like me, you mean?” She asked, but I could hear a slight tease in her voice.

  I chuckled. “Yes. But people not like you, too. If I bring you supplies, can you reach out to some of the other villain teams in the city and distribute them?”

  She hummed. “Who do you have in mind?” She asked carefully.

  “Undersiders for one. Maybe Travellers, too? I don’t feel comfortable doing things with Coil currently, and he’s so flush with cash it’s not like he couldn’t have things shipped in on his own dime, so I’m not worried about him. I… am not sure what to think about Empire.”

  She sighed. “Yeah, that’s my concern as well. Undersiders, I can do, sure. Travellers, if they’ll engage with me. They’re sort of an odd bunch, and I get weird vibes from their leader. Empire is probably more trouble than it’s worth. I get wanting to help people out behind the masks and costumes, but they were just razing the city, not even a week ago.”

  “That’s fair. There’s something else. I need you, specifically.”

  “Oh?” Her curiosity came through the phone.

  “I name-dropped you as a resource to tap for a project we need help with, ASAP,” I told her.

  “Who is ‘we’ in this context?”

  “Well. I was in a PRT meeting, and the White House was involved, too. I proposed a plan to get large amounts of disaster relief and reconstruction supplies into the city via the docks, but the shipping lane is blocked up with wrecks from the boat graveyard that are blocking access to big ships. But the ‘we’ in this context is the city. Hopefully, the government will write you a check for the labor.”

  “Mmm. Flattered that you thought of me, but I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Your power, Faultline. We need to clear the channel. Can you break the wrecks up into smaller pieces so we can get them moved out of the way? I told them you’d probably need dive gear, but can you do it? If you can’t, we can get someone else, but… You know, trying to spread the love.”

  “Ah, I see. I could probably manage that, yes. And I’d be surprised if some or most of the wrecks hadn’t shifted with the tsunamis, so they might be easier to access and not even require diving. And you’re right, this is to my benefit as much as it is to everyone else.”

  I lowered my voice some. “I think Brockton Bay is going to go from a city turned from a disaster area into something big, better than it ever was before.”

  “I could see that, yes. Potentially. Shouldn’t try and predict things like that, but there’s potential, “ she said.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m going to PRT HQ later. I can take you over there if you would like, to meet with them.”

  “Oh, no need. I have the Director’s number,” she said in an offhand fashion.

  That doesn’t surprise me in the least.

  “Two more things. First one is, can you spare a person or two to help me with security over here? I’ve got my family and some other cape families here, and I’m setting up a safe space like you’re doing. But I don’t have bouncers or guards.”

  “Hmm. I probably could, but the question would be, are you paying them?” I winced a little, knowing that this was going to come up.

  “I was hoping we could do a quid pro quo or something? You send me one or two of your crew to keep an eye on things when you can, and I’ll send some of my people to fill your needs. I can also… maybe cut you a bit more of the pie of relief supplies, if needed.”

  “I see.” The line went quiet for a moment. “I’ll talk to them about it. This would be on a voluntary basis, and I might need to recall them at any time to respond to any emergencies over here.”

  “That’s perfectly understandable. You can tell Newter we’ll have lots of cute girls over here. Hell, tell Spitfire, too. Maybe she’d like to hang out with people sometime.”

  She chuckled. “I’ll pass the message on. What was the other thing?”

  I explained the whole situation with the PRT, the Triumvirate, and their offer.

  She took a few minutes to ask me a number of follow-up questions and drew her conclusion afterward.

  “I’ll be honest with you, Apex.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Morgan, please,” I briefly interrupted her.

  “Fine, I’ll be honest with you, Morgan,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Faultline.”

  There was an extended pause. “It’s Melanie.” I felt warmth in my chest at hearing that, and she continued. “What I was going to say was, I don’t know if you truly have a choice in the matter. I think it’s more than they’re being courteous and respectful in asking.”

  I tilted my head. My phone buzzed.

  “One second, please,” I told her.

  A text message had come in. It was from Chess team.

  Big Gamer: Out of contract as of last week. If you’re providing room and board, and there are functional amenities, we’ll cut a large discount on rates.

  Me: Food, water, electricity, gym, and a place to stay that’s dry and secure.

  Big Gamer: Just to be clear: this is for security and potential field deployment, both? If so, we’ll agree to 50% of our previous quote for a minimum of 90 days, and require bonus pay for field ops.

  That was more than agreeable. I imagined that whatever hotel or accommodations they had previously had were probably hit hard if they were willing to cut that much of a deal. Getting out of the city wasn’t going to be an easy prospect either, if they had equipment and potentially spicy records with law enforcement.

  Me: Pack up and head here as soon as possible. Bring transportation if you have it, and consider stopping to pick up supplies on the way if the opportunity presents itself. We have a good stock, but more is always better.

  Big Gamer: Heard. En route. Expect two vehicles, off-road capable.

  Me: Sounds good. If you can get here relatively quickly, I can help you get settled in, but I have to leave soon.

  Big Gamer: Copy.

  “Hey, still there?” I asked.

  “Yes, still here,” she replied.

  “Sorry about that. That was the mercs reaching out to me. I just hired them. Still would like to have a cape or two over here if possible on top of them as a deterrent from anyone getting big ideas.”

  “Yes, that’s a good idea, and I agree.”

  I took a deep breath and thought back to what she’d said. “Can you explain what you mean by not having a choice in the matter?”

  “Sure. There are two angles to this. First is that the PRT isn’t going to want to have someone that they want to credit with taking down an Endbringer running around loose, or worse, as a villain. So right now, they’re being nice and polite, but if you give them a reason to act otherwise, I do think they will put the squeeze on you.”

  I grunted.

  “The second angle here is what you should be concerned about by not taking the offer,” she said carefully.

  “I’m listening,” I told her.

  “Well, let’s say you cut a deal to remain independent and neutral, right? And Apex is the biggest name in the headlines. Have you stopped to consider the sheer level and number of clout-chasing villains that are going to drop what they’re doing to beeline straight at you to try and boost their own rep off taking you down?”

  Oh shit. She’s right. My involvement in this is going to make me top-tier villain bait.

  “That is… certainly a lot to think about. I had considered the first part, but not the second.”

  “There is something else that I’m picking up on that I don’t think you’re capitalizing on, maybe because you haven’t thought of it yet, or because you’re distracted with so many other things, so I’ll just say it. The power dynamic here is flipped entirely on its head from what you used to understand. You have an enormous amount of soft power and weight to throw around now.”

  “Hmm… I see where you’re coming from,” I admitted.

  “Don’t get me wrong, and don’t mistake this offer for what it is. It is a collar and leash, to be certain. But while you might have the collar around your neck and they’re holding the leash, that doesn’t mean that they’re in control of you de facto. You have clout. You can make things happen that wouldn’t happen otherwise. Political capital. Now– I’m going to make some predictions here…”

  She trailed off a moment, humming.

  “If you sign on, and I think you absolutely should, they’re going to want to do all sorts of fun and innocent-seeming things with you. Leadership and politicians coming in and posing with you next to a dead Endbringer. You’re going to suddenly have five thousand friends asking for attention, offering you things, asking for little favors. You need to be smart, Morgan. Smart and ruthless. I truly cannot stress that enough to you.”

  “What do you mean by ruthless? I have some ideas of what you mean, but I’d like to hear it put in your words.”

  “Sure. And the fact you’re asking shows that you’ve got the smart down pat. You remember how the PRT tossed you out because you were the weakest link on the team?”

  I sighed. “Yes.”

  “Good. You need to keep that firmly planted on your mind. Because this isn’t about personality, or a good cause, or doing the right or wrong thing. This is business for these people. It’s all transactional. Politicians, both civilian and in the government with the PRT, they’re sharks in suits. Like a CEO. You need to understand that the people coming to you, no matter what they’re saying or doing, have a goal and an agenda, and want to use you to further it. Do you understand?” Her voice was level, but deathly serious, and I took what she was saying in with similar weight.

  “You’re saying that I need to make sure I’m not just getting used, and that I’m getting my agenda items pushed in exchange for their agenda items getting pushed.”

  “Exactly.”

  I mused for a moment. “I need to treat these meetings like it’s Somer’s Rock all over again. They might be on the opposite team, but everyone’s in it for themselves.”

  “Sure, but do keep in mind that heroes, by their very nature, tend to be more idealistic and moralistic people. Not that they won’t try and use you for their own ends, and you should be wary of getting backstabbed–again–but I’d probably give them a little more trust and faith than you would a room full of hardened villain criminals and murderers.”

  I chuckled a little. “I see where you’re coming from. You really think I should take the offer, though?”

  “Yes, I do. I think you need to not play any games, go in there, tell them you’re ready to sign, but you expect to get things done. The things you care about. The less you mess around, the more goodwill you’re going to have going into things. And that does matter. But keep in mind the relationship you have to them, the leash and collar. You need to behave and be a good pet sometimes, and you need to pull on the leash other times to remind them that you’re not their puppy dog.”

  I tapped a claw on the floor, thinking about ways to apply what she was telling me. “Any suggestions?” I asked her.

  “They are probably going to dangle something shiny in front of you. A lucrative pay and benefits contract, a title or position, something along those lines. My suggestion to you is two-fold. Obviously, negotiate a good contract. Get a lawyer in the room with you, a good one you can trust, and don’t sign anything without them going over it in detail.”

  I nodded along. Sound advice, I was committing it to memory.

  “Secondly, you’re extremely idealistic. It’s a strength and a weakness of yours. If you actually want to see the things you care about getting done, then you need a leadership position. They might offer you one right off the top, make sure it’s not one in title only. If you’re playing second string to someone else, you’re not going to accomplish what you want as effectively. That's both the advantage and the cost of being at the top. Just how the cookie crumbles, Morgan.”

  That gave me pause.

  “I’m eighteen, fresh out of high school, no university, and I have a year of experience in the Wards. There’s no way they’re going to go for that.”

  “Listen, while you’re not wrong in what you’re saying, and while it’s true that you lack experience, there’s no reason you can’t tell them to give you some solid mentors to help you make decisions, say that you’re on the training track for development, whatever. I saw Armsmaster leaving the hospital in handcuffs this morning. As of right now, they might not have anyone actually running the team.”

  She paused a moment, then continued.

  “But the fact of the matter is, most of the Triumvirate was barely older than you when they founded the Protectorate. There are more Wards now than there are Protectorate members. All the members but Armsmaster and Miss Militia are very young themselves. Having you front and center helps them; it doesn’t hurt them. All I’m saying is, do not allow them to install you as a figurehead while others call the shots, okay?”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay, I hear you. I’ll see what Legend wants to talk about later. The other advice about making sure I’m representing myself and getting what I want out of things is very good, I’ll keep that firmly in mind and try not to let myself get star-struck. I know a lawyer I can talk to, also.”

  “Good. Make sure it’s someone who knows cape affairs very well, or who has that as their primary specialty,” she said. “Is there anything else you needed help with?”

  “No–I–” I hesitated a moment. “Thank you, Melanie. You have helped me keep my head above water through many things so far. I’ll make it up to you at some point, I promise.”

  She chuckled. “Careful with promises, Apex. People will hold you to them.”

  I laughed a little with her, and we ended the call.

  Wrapping up the call with Faultline, I decided to give Vicky a call to see how she and her family were doing. I knew it wasn’t going to be great. Shielder of New Wave had died, and Gallant, her on-again-off-again boyfriend of the past two years.

  I left the garage and hopped up onto the rooftop where the landing pad was. Rock solid. I stretched out in the sun and dialed. It rang so long I didn’t think she was going to answer, but she did, finally.

  I heard sniffling from the other end.

  “Hey,” I said softly.

  “...Hey,” she replied, her voice thick with phlegm.

  “I’m sorry for your losses, Vicky. I… wished I could have done more. Saved them,” I sighed a little as my own heart grew heavy. The unfortunate burden of empathy.

  “We… all did what we could, Morgan. What really matters is that fucking… thing is dead. I know Dean would have–” She sobbed, and her voice cracked. “–He would have died happy knowing that it meant something. That the world was a better place because of it.”

  I’d never been particularly close with Dean. I was a bit standoffish with him because of how he’d often hurt Vicky, and with his ability to read others' emotions, he would have known my reasons for it without having to say a thing. Still, we’d enjoyed a perfectly fine working relationship and were on friendly terms.

  I hated the fact that he had a hard time keeping his eyes, hands, and other bodily parts to himself, and that he had cheated on her several times. But as a teammate and member of the Wards? He was a good guy. Dependable, cared about his team, and fought hard.

  So it surprised me a little that I found myself getting deep into my feelings when I told Vicky, “I’m going to miss him, too. I wasn’t close to him as you were, but I think everyone on the team is going to be mourning his passing."

  So quiet it was nearly a whisper, she said, “Thank you, Morgan. I know you two weren’t close, but he respected the fact that you stood up for me.”

  “Of course, Victoria. You know I’m ride or die for you and your sister. Melody is, too.”

  She sniffed. “How are you holding up?” She asked me.

  I sighed. “I’m doing okay. I’m too busy doing six hundred things at the same time to really sit down and process things right now. I just… I don’t have the time to let myself grieve right now. Trying to save the city. Organizing laborers to make that happen. Trying to make sure our families are kept safe. Coordinating with the PRT and the government.”

  “Jesus, Morgan. Take five for yourself before you have a stroke,” Victoria chided me.

  I sighed. “I can’t. I hear you, I agree with you, but I can’t. There are extremely time-sensitive things going on that are life and death for thousands of people.”

  “Don’t you think you’re being a bit hyperbolic at the moment?”

  I rested my head on my forearms. My left forearm was aching. I don’t think it had been able to fully heal yet, and my running around on it wasn’t helping. Aches and pains were starting to accumulate all over. I needed sleep, but it had to wait.

  “No,” I told her after a moment. “No, I’m not. We’re getting a big container ship of disaster relief in, but we have to get the bay open and port operational ASAP for that to happen without delays. Food, water, generators, medicine, and more, for the whole city.”

  “Wow… how did you pull that off?” She asked me, her voice clearing up a little as we talked.

  “Right place, right time, I guess. Speaking my mind, which pissed some people off, but fuck them, right?”

  “Is there anything I can do to help out with that?”

  “Yes, actually. You and anyone you could get who wants to help would be a huge help. There are several things I need at the moment, and I wanted to ask you how your family is faring, in terms of, like, living arrangements.”

  She sighed and told me, “Our house got hit. Part of the first floor flooded, the basement is full, and there’s no power. We didn’t lose anything too serious. My cousins aren’t doing as well. Their house got shifted off the foundation, and part of it is very iffy in terms of being actually safe to be in.”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay. Tell your family, all of them, Dallons and Pelhams. I have a place, food, water, safety, and electricity. I want you all over here with me, and no isn’t an acceptable answer. It’s filling up quickly, but on top of this being a safe and sanitary place to live, we’re also starting to coordinate some of these big projects out of here. They want to help the city; they can do that while staying here.”

  “I–okay. I can do that. Mom is probably going to be uncomfortable with that arrangement,” she told me.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “She doesn’t like feeling like she’s in debt to others,” she said quietly.

  “Okay. I understand that. Tell her that everyone here is working and contributing. We need hands for stuff as simple as cooking, and as complex as making sure gangs don’t attack us, and working on these other projects. And I need her services as a lawyer urgently, and it’s very time sensitive.”

  “Why, what’s going on with needing a lawyer?”

  “I’m probably signing on to the Protectorate later. I’ve been told by someone whose advice I trust that I need a good lawyer to look over the contract details and fine print to make sure they’re not trying to pull a fast one on me.”

  Her voice brightened up a little with the news. “What, really? Morgan, that’s… great news. She’ll probably be happy to hear about that and help out.”

  “Well, there’s probably more to it, too, but yes. Like I said, so many pots on so many fires right now.”

  “Okay. I’ll try and do what I can to help out, and I’ll get everyone rounded up.” Victoria was sounding better for having clear objectives and things to do.

  “Thank you, Victoria. We’re going to be running out of nicer places to stay here, but I think I can get you, your sister, and your cousin in one room, and then each of your parents into two others. We might be a little cramped, but one big happy family, yeah? I have a bunch of bunks, too, but I figure you guys probably want a little extra privacy.”

  “Yeah… good call. How are you on space for other things?”

  “Bring all the food, water, fuel, and medicine you can, and all your valuables and heirlooms, paperwork, stuff like that. We can lock them up here; there’s plenty of space for that kind of stuff. Maybe tell your cousin and Amy to pack some entertainment. I imagine people will be pretty busy, but having outlets for people to take their minds off things is probably… really good, too.”

  ”Sure, I can do that. And bringing some media is a good idea,” she replied.

  “Alright, some people are arriving, I have to let you go. I suggest moving sooner rather than later. There are a lot more people out and about moving around now than there were earlier. I don’t want any weird stuff happening to you or your family.”

  I looked up at the sky. It was progressing through the early afternoon already. Insane how time was flying.

  “Sounds good. Talk soon.”

  She hung up. I think I nodded off briefly, because I came to with my phone ringing next to my head. The front gate it was Chess team. I opened the gate and hopped down to have them pull their vehicles in if they desired. They kept them outside in the lot. It was just the five of us out in the lot at the moment, and when they got out in their full strapped and packed war gear, it gave me pause. Bishop approached me, looking around and taking in the sights, the wall, the posts, and the two main buildings.

  “Afternoon, boss. This is a good setup you have here. I can see why you wanted some extra eyes and ears.” I nodded.

  “So, before we get into business, some things have changed on my end, and it impacts our arrangement.” He regarded me with his balaclava, helmet, and goggles on, hands folded over the butt of the rifle he had strapped to his chest.

  I cleared my throat. “I don’t think it’s serious, but it’s worth mentioning. We’re taking on refugees and displaced people; there might be kids and the like around. Would it be possible for you all to work without ah…”

  I paused a moment, and he raised a hand.

  “Don’t need to say anything else on the subject, we’re used to it. Plain clothes, or something comparable?” I hesitated a moment, rocking my head from side to side.

  “Maybe some light gear for your own protection, vests, helmets, maybe, that sort of thing. But maybe more like… police or military vibes than super tactical mega-mercs?”

  His helmet bobbed up and down. “You expecting trouble?”

  “To be honest with you? Yes, I am. Nothing has been said, nothing I’ve seen or heard, but just the fact that we have things that are soon to be in very short supply around here? Yeah, I imagine some bad sorts might come knocking once they get a handle on where the good shit is being kept.”

  Rook, Knight, and Pawn were moving containers into the garage from the vehicles. Those big pelican-type cases with robust locks on them. They had one souped-up four-door SUV, a big monster of a vehicle that probably got eye-wateringly bad gas mileage with a ton of storage. The other vehicle they had was a similarly outfitted pickup truck stacked with cargo boxes in the bed.

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re not wrong. Have you been in situations like this before?” Bishop asked me.

  I shook my head.

  “Well. It’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better, and you’re smart to take security seriously. This is a good location, a damn good location. We can have a spotter on the roof with a rifle, people in the towers, or on the walls. Might consider putting some things to walk on on the inside, so we can reposition as needed. How are you on supplies?”

  “I had about two to four weeks of supplies in terms of food, and probably about a month’s worth of clean water at the start of this, when it was just me and one other. We’re taking on a total of four families, which, with you, is about sixteen people or so. They’re bringing their own food and supplies in as well, so those numbers aren’t going down too hard, but the big news here is that I’m going to be flying in freight and relief supplies with the PRT. So some of that is coming here. I’m not concerned about people going hungry–currently.”

  “So, just my suggestion, you’re the boss here,” he said.

  “No, please, I want to hear what you have to say.”

  “Food and medicine are good, fuel usually becomes the second biggest concern, and then after that? It’s clean water. From what we’re seeing on the way over here, that’s going to be in short supply.”

  I nodded. “Yes, you’re correct. I have intel on the status of city infrastructure, and it’s dire. However, the very first supplies I’m shipping in tomorrow are going to be a total of ten desalination plants, the kind in full-size shipping containers. Along with them, generators and fuel, then from there out we’re hauling food, water, fuel, and medicine. There’s a big freighter with longer-term supplies arriving next week that we’re coordinating on getting docked.”

  “If you don’t have a good plan for water use in place, it will get wasted right away. We’ve got experience in survival scenarios like this. We can tell your people how to make the most of it and set up limits for everyone.”

  I nodded quickly. “Yes, please. That’s an excellent idea. Follow me, and I’ll get you a set of keys, gate controls, and show you around. I’m short on time, you’ll have to go about introductions and catching your team up later.”

  “After you,” Bishop said, and we headed inside. After a quick tour of the place and introductions were made, just the two of us were on the top floor. Introductions had been… interesting. I could tell there were going to be talks at some point in the future about how I knew someone strapped with body armor, carrying a machine gun, and dressed like some kind of SWAT officer.

  Bishop and I went over expectations, and I paid him in cash, which put a solid dent in my holdout funds. Expectations were simple. Keep the place secure and safe. That meant the four walls and everything inside, and they had my permission to handle threats outside the walls if they posed a danger to the people inside. Non-lethals only, lethal force allowed if it was a literal life-or-death situation and something that couldn’t be ignored. They had free range of the place, excluding the private rooms, unless there was a need for them to enter, in which case they came to me about it first.

  Twenty-four-hour coverage, access to the security system, and gate controls both inside and outside in the guard station that had been set up, keys and clickers. Security was the primary concern, and if they had downtime, a helping hand around the place would be appreciated, but I wasn’t going to press the issue. He told me it was pretty normal in situations like this for everyone to contribute a bit more than they would under more normal circumstances.

  When that was all said and done, Bishop said he’d draw up some rules and guidelines for me about things like water and food use to make sure we were getting the most out of things. Vicky texted me and told me New Wave was on their way over and should be there within half an hour.

  Bishop turned to look at me before we parted ways. “Apex, can I ask you how old you are?”

  I chuckled. “I’m eighteen.”

  He grunted and glanced upwards. I had a feeling he had something on his mind, so I waited to see if he was going to say anything further.

  “You remind me of something I haven’t thought about in a little while now,” he said at last.

  I tilted my head at him.

  “I was on a peacekeeping and relief mission in the late 90s. South Africa. Place was rough. Not quite hell on earth, but not too far off it, either.”

  I remained quiet and let him work through it. This clearly wasn’t a topic he was fond of.

  “There are a lot of people like you in Africa. Capes, parahumans. Way more than here, but they also burn bright and get snuffed quickly. Short life expectancy. You remind me of some of the child soldiers there.”

  I was… honestly stunned by the comment, and not sure what to make of it. I kept quiet.

  “Not saying you’re a kid, just…” he sighed. “You’re eighteen, you should be worrying about graduating from school, going to parties, and enjoying your life. Not… running a refugee camp, fighting to save cities from walking armageddon, and coordinating disaster relief efforts.”

  I got what he was trying to say now. It made me wonder if he had kids out there he was worried about taking care of, what their lives might be like when they’re my age.

  “I hear you, Bishop, and I appreciate the sentiment. I told my sister the same thing before she became a parahuman, too. Enjoy a life of having mundane things, and where your biggest worry is who’s dating who and how to when the next game is going to be. She was always envious of me, having abilities. Until she got her own, and realized what it was like, what it meant.”

  I chuckled, but it was a dry thing.

  “When?” He asked me.

  “Last week. Purity attacks dropped a building on her. My apartment, actually. She was out looking for me because I wasn’t answering my phone. Two weeks ago, she was worrying about her grades and scholarship. Today, she’s worrying about saving the world from city-destroying monsters. You’re… you’re probably exactly right in what you noticed, with us, the way we have to change and adapt to our new realities as parahumans.”

  He reached up and adjusted the strap on his helmet, clicking it loose and taking the helmet off. “I’m not sure if I should congratulate you for that, or give you my condolences.”

  I glanced out the window. “I can’t speak for her, or how she feels. We haven’t really had the time to talk about it, and it’s so new for her, she wouldn’t have very good context to explore her feelings on it yet anyway. But I think it’s both, not one or the other. The only thing that changes is the ratio.”

  I turned to look back at him. “As for myself? I’d be lying to you if I said I hated this. I thrive on it. I wish that weren’t the case, but I’m drawn to it. I’d rather be doing this, saving people, figuring out how to fix problems, or worst case, be out there fighting, than doing virtually anything else.”

  I turned back to look out the window, and he did as well. “It’s similar for mercs, people in the military, stuff like that. You live your life doing it, hating every minute of it and wishing things could go back to normal, but then when you do leave it, and get back to normal, it’s not normal any longer. It changes people. Makes them crave the excitement and danger. The stakes for everything are higher, life and death stuff.”

  “Yeah,” I breathed out. “Yeah. I think it’s really not too dissimilar at all.”

  Are we all just child soldiers? I’d like to say that we aren’t, that we don’t choose to become parahumans, only to make the best of our situations that we can. But I suppose that it isn’t different than being orphaned and either being conscripted or volunteering for it to make ends meet.

  It’s a pretty chilling thing to think about.