Vigilante (Under Construction! Please Excuse the Dust!)

Chapter 4: unknown past.

Chapter 4:

Charm:

        “Should I apprehend her?” Dawn asked from behind me. I tapped against the counter covered in dials, switches, and buttons as the camera focused on the girl stepping onto the deck at ground level.

        “No, not yet, I want to see what she does.”

        The girl swiveled her head from the right to the left repeatedly, a look of surprise on her face when nothing happened after she took a second step onto the deck.

        “What’s on her back?” Mach Seven pointed to the monitor, to the dark lump she carried over her shoulders. The further she moved out, the clearer the image became that broadcast from the in-wall cameras that watched the ground level constantly. The automated system had sent me an intruder warning.

        “Is that-?” Mach began, leaning back and then leaning forward again. “No, it can’t be. Can it?”

        Upon closer examination, I recognized the dark Kevlar suit and mess of wavy hair, his face buried in the girl’s shoulder.

        “Rain Maker,” I answered Mach. “That’s Rain Maker.”

        “What’d she do to him?” Mach asked.

        Rain Maker looked mostly unharmed aside from his obvious unconsciousness. I bit my lip, brow furrowing.

        “How’d she get the better of him? She doesn’t look Powered,” I asked nobody.

        “She may not look it,” Dawn replied, voice steely and cold. “Should I go?”

        I hesitated. “No, I'm sure that the three of us can handle her, even if she's taken Rain Maker hostage." I was curious to see what she was doing here and with Rain Maker.

        The three of us intently watched the screen as the mystery girl moved carefully across the deck and set Rain Maker down against the wall. When he shuffled, rubbing at his face, she stilled like stone, eyes wide. That's when I knew she wasn't here to attack us. Only to return our passed out comrade to us.

        Her body visibly relaxed after a moment without movement.

        Then, without a backwards look, she turned and ran. She was gone in a matter of seconds.

        “Computer, reverse security footage,” I said aloud. The video moved backwards slowly, ticking through each frame. “Stop footage. Magnify forty percent.”

        The monitor zoomed in on the girl’s face as she was looking from left to right.

        “Clarify image.” The picture cleared to a mostly precise three-quarter view of her face.

        “I don’t recognize her,” Mach said, Dawn nodding in agreement. The girl wasn’t familiar to me, but I was ninety-five percent sure she came from the Outer City judging on her attire of baggy jeans with holes worn in the knees, a ragged white shirt, two-sizes-too-big flannel over shirt, and white running shoes with red stripes along the sides. Her hair looked dirty and she had a smear of motor oil on her cheek.

        “Computer, face recognition search: ICPD database and social media,” I ordered. The computer silently brought up the ICPD databank and began a search, comparing the face from the footage to the stored mug shots.

        “Ninety-four percent match found,” the computer dinged. “Ninety-eight percent match found.”

        Two mug shots appeared on the larger monitor. In the picture on the left, the girl looked like she’d just gotten in a violent fight. Her eye was swelled shut, her lip was split, grime was smudged on her face and in her hair, a line of dry blood came from above her hairline, and a bite mark marred her bare shoulder. She had a very small, very disturbing quirk to the corner of her mouth, like she knew something that we didn't.

        In the right, her eyes were downcast and her knuckles were bleeding profusely, eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed, like she’d been crying.

        “Would you look at that?” I breathed, leaning back in my chair. “Computer, subject information.”

        The picture on the right zoomed in.

        “Name: Giliana Guerrero. Age: fifteen years old. Reason of arrest: contempt of court and attempted manslaughter of Morton Faciliado. Sentence: ten months in juvenile detention. Sentence lifted three months early on grounds of good behavior,” the computer rattled off. The first picture disappeared, replaced by the second.

        “Name: Giliana Guerrero. Age: seventeen years old. Reason of arrest: murder of Morton Faciliado. Sentence: four years in Etcher Women’s Prison with parole. Sentence lifted six months early on grounds of good behavior.”

        “She killed someone?” Mach exclaimed. “Who’s Morton Faciliado?”

        “Computer, search: Morton Faciliado,” Dawn told the computer sternly, staring at the screen. A number of news articles and an arrest report appeared from oldest to newest.

        FAMILY OF THREE MURDERED, PRIME SUSPECT UNDER INVESTIGATION.

        ARRESTED: MORTON FACILIADO.

        FACILIADO CONDEMNED TO LIFE SENTENCE.

        THREE YEARS LATER, MURDERER FOUND DEAD IN PRISON CELL.