Ignite

Rain danced on his skin, and the earth shook as cars raced by. Frantic voices sounded above him, and a wave of water hit his face as feet landed beside him. A hand reached out and pressed the side of his neck, checking for a pulse. As soon as it touched his skin, the hand jerked back, its owner issuing a yelp of pain. 
His eyes flashed open, blinking against the rain. He was lying on the ground, anxious-looking people peering down at him from all sides. Behind the crowd, a busy street bustled with evening traffic. The woman who had touched his neck held her hand to her chest, eyeing him warily. Angry burn marks scarred her fingers where she had touched him. He placed a hand on his neck, and a comforting heat spread through his fingers. Not only was his skin warm, it was also dry. 

He shot upright, and immediately, worried hands flashed out, urging him to take it easy. He flinched away from them, afraid he would burn them, too. The rain hissed and sizzled as it hit his fingers. He looked around. Everyone else seemed as confused as he was.

One of the onlookers smiled sympathetically at him. "What's your name?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but stopped. He didn't know. In fact, he realized, he had no idea who he was or what he was doing there. The jarring realization had him on his feet and backing away from the crowd. He didn't know these people. What did they want from him? At the sound of approaching sirens, he shook his head and backed away. One of the onlookers tried to grab him, but he quickly stepped back into the street. 

A horn blared and he turned, his eyes widening as he noticed the truck hurtling straight for him. Fear flooded through his body, and he put out his hands, closing his eyes to wait for the impact. 

Instead, a loud explosion crashed through the air and a wave of heat washed over him. He opened his eyes. Where the truck had been, there was nothing but ash and twisted metal. Cars veered away from him and the wreckage, hitting their brakes and crashing into one another. He looked at his hands in shock. Had he done that? 

The sirens grew louder, and police cars pulled up around him, officers leaping out and pointing their weapons at him. He threw his hands in the air. What was happening? The officers began yelling orders at him, but he couldn't hear them over the rising panic in his chest. A resounding bang filled his ears as a pistol was fired, and he reacted, turning toward the sound. As his focus landed on the man who had fired, the officer and his car exploded in a shower of sparks and metal. He gasped, taking a step back. He had killed a cop. Heat rose inside him, and his breathing became heavy. The rest of the police cars began exploding around him, and he screamed, sending out a wall of fire that melted the asphalt. The road began to bubble and smear, the cars and officers sinking into the mess. 

Suddenly, someone appeared next to him, grabbing his shoulder. "Whoo-ee, nicely done, kid!" 

He jumped, spun around, and exploded the person who had spoken. When the smoke cleared, an old woman grinned a toothy smile at him. She was a foot shorter than him, with matted grey hair and a floral shirt worn over striped, purple pants. Large glasses perched on her nose, and she was completely covered in ash. 

She spat out smoke, utterly unfazed by the explosion. "You're a jumpy one." She grabbed his arm, pulling a device out of her pocket. It was smooth and shiny, seamless save for a single button in its center. Compared to the dirty traffic lights and paint-chipped buildings around him, it stuck out like a rose among weeds.

He jerked away from her. "What is that?"

She gave him a look that suggested his complete idiocy and rolled her eyes. "It's a Timepiece, kid. Now let's go." She gestured emphatically.
He wasn't going anywhere with her, and he certainly wasn't getting near whatever a Timepiece was. He started to back away.

"Do I look like I could hurt you? You'll get your memory back soon, now let's go." She stretched out the last word with unsuppressed impatience.
She did look like she could hurt him. More sirens echoed in the distance, and he began to panic. "I'm not going anywhere with you." He turned to run.
She groaned. "Alex Carter, your drop-dead-gorgeous girlfriend is waiting for you at home."

He paused. "Alex? Is... is that me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, and if you'd stop panicking for a second, I'd explain in more detail." When he didn't answer, she continued. "You were born the year 2080, with the P-Gene, the gene that gives people like us the potential for extraordinary abilities. When the abilities first appear, your memory usually disappears for a day or so. Some people freak out and make a big fuss. You stole a Timepiece and travelled back to 2022." She said the last part with a touch of admiration. "The Timekeepers sent me to get you back home before you blow up more cops."

Alex tried to process the information, but for all his questions, he ended up asking, "you have powers too?"

"Of course. Why do you think my head didn't blow up when you looked at me? Now, are ya comin' or not?" She held out a wrinkled hand. 

Alex stepped forward and took it hesitantly. "Wait, one more thing," he added as she fingered the device in her other hand, "I have a hot girlfriend?"

"Naw, I just made that up to get your attention." 

Alex opened his mouth to protest, but the device began to glow, and the city stretched and dimmed, fading into blackness.