II: A City at War

13 1 0
                                    

June 8, 2012
<{(o)}>

The most jarring thing was how quiet it became. When we saw the portal, it felt like a dream. Like something out of a video game, or an old comic like I used to read.

The four of us, I can still recall, were listening to a weather report on our battered television, an old Trinitron from the turn of the century. The reporter, an older woman, wearing a white dress with frills on the skirt, was droning on about highs and lows, and a high pressure system that seemed to really get on her nerves.

Yet, the longer she stood there, pointing at the swirling graphics, the easier it became to notice the lines mapping her face becoming more defined, and the genuine horror forming in her hazel eyes.

Without so much as a word from her, the channel cut to a black screen, and voices could be heard, but not quite made out, before the camera came back on.

The screen flashed on, the broadcast jarring and honestly quite alarming. Lakeesha and Mama had stopped what they were doing. Brayton had looked up from his book. We'd all taken an interest in the strangeness of this moment, and had turned our attention to the frightened news anchor standing in the studio.

Like his female counterpart, his eyes were wide and his expression was that of sheer terror. I had not a guess as to what could be so upsetting that a major news network, especially one as uptight as this, would allow such a broadcast to remain on air.

He cleared his throat. "Breaking news!" he all but shouted, the tremors in his voice blatantly obvious. "I—uh, there's something in the sky." The newsman couldn't seem to find his voice, and all attempts to speak ended in failure.

"I can't do this, I can't—I can't read this story," we heard him whisper. Another voice spoke in mumbles, not coherent enough to mean anything. I let my mind wander, my interest piqued and adrenaline was already pumping through my veins, as if I knew something life changing was about to happen.

The newsman sighed. "Alright, alright. I'll try, but I can't, I don't know—fine." I watched, tilting my head as I observed the man's behavior. A byproduct of taking a class in psychology a year prior, I had already become an expert on body language.

I saw the twitching of the man's left eye. The way he rolled his pen between his fingers, tapping nervously on its metal surface. His eyes darted around, as if he were expecting death to greet him at any moment.

Yet, I watched as he schooled his expression and took a deep breath. "Breaking news! Just moments ago, citizens were shocked to see what looked like a massive beam of blue light shoot into the sky above the new Stark Tower."

I had to blink twice before I could breathe again. It took four before I could bring myself to move. My sister, a girl too small for the twelve years she was aged, had already run to the window and began to open the blinds.

Lakeesha was too young, too innocent to feel the nervousness that had forced the rest of us into silence. Brayton, who was nineteen and looked every bit the part, seemed frozen where he stood next to Mama.

My mind offered up a warning, a remembrance. The Stark Expo, how easily wonder could turn to terror. Before that, the destruction of that warehouse and that infamous press conference. Knowing Stark, his history, the knowledge that he may be behind this did nothing to slow the rapid beating of my heart.

Matters of Heroes (Delayed)Where stories live. Discover now