Heroes and Zombies

Chapter 1

Santiago had always taken care not to get too much into the papers. Not that there was a good chance of that, in cities like this. There were some big-time heroes out there, and no one payed much attention to the common liquor-store stickup prevented by a random do-gooder. Now, perhaps if a bank was being robbed, or some important politician being dangled out a window for the fifth time that week, or yet another release of robots or magical monsters, that would make the papers. But still, he tried to keep low.

He wasn't in it for the attention, for anyone to laud him for anything that he did. It wasn't a good reason, in his opinion.

Santiago was walking down the gigantic and ever-crowded sidewalks of the simply named 5th Street, one of the largest roads in town. It was also the oldest, evidenced by the slightly decaying bricks of the buildings that were pressed together going up the street. Some were still houses, or apartments, but most were renovated. This was, after all, the artistic sector of town.

Many of the faded red bricks had been painted over, replaced with shocking blues or yellows or oranges. At least two buildings had artistic graffiti over it, big faces and whatnot, some with murals that seemed to change as he walked past. Trees, placed at even intervals and carefully pruned, had colorful lights woven through the branches, even though Christmas was long gone. There was always music coming from somewhere, and different melodies wove together to create the street's characteristic ambiance. 

This was a rather slow route to work, but he loved walking through the art district. Though there were many galleries and studios, there were also little restaurants and coffee shops he visited when he had the money. They were hellishly overpriced, he had to admit.

Santiago carried his heavy backpack slung over one shoulder, though his fingers grasped the strap tightly, nervously even. Brown eyes flickered back and forth between the faces passing him.

For a few seconds, his gaze lingered on a thick wallet, straining against the confines of a woman's pocket. He instantly realized that there was no chain, nothing holding that wallet in. He could estimate there was at least a hundred in there, maybe more. 

His fingers itched to wrap around the leather, worn soft and faded with use. It would be so easy to pluck it out of her pocket, and then disappear into the crowd... He almost reached out, but instead just tightened his grip on the strap of the backpack, biting his lip. 

No. He wouldn't do that anymore, he'd promised himself. The money wasn't his to take. The girl, whoever she was, probably needed it a lot more than he did. He had a good living.

Sighing to himself, Santiago ducked his head as he kept walking, keeping his eyes up just enough to avoid smashing into anyone. He now wanted to hurry, to push through people in his journey to the lab where he interned. He wasn't going to be late, but there was no harm in getting there early. 

As it turned out, he would never make it to work.

At first, it was a shriek that caught his attention. Then, it was the murmuring that moved in waves through the crowd. He looked up, seeing one person perched atop a building. It appeared to be female, though it was tough to judge, laying calmly on the very rim of the roof. One leg was splayed off, and her hand was up, finger pointed, idly moving. He couldn't see much besides that, her face and body obscured in thick clothes. He thought it looked like she had a bandanna wrapped about the lower part of her face. 

As he saw what she was doing, he understood the screams and shrieks that were beginning to pick up. Floating midair, several feet in front of her were some purses, wallets, and then, terrifyingly enough, a crying toddler. 

He took a step towards the scene, stopped. 

It would be so easy to just walk away. Better, in fact. He had places to be, things to do. He was going to be late for work. This wasn't his business.