The Night Vigilante

XI. Cole

Chapter XI - Cole

            “We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another. ” –Dauntless Manifesto

            Latching onto the iron bar above the cement staircase, I swing myself up onto the ledge above it where there’ a small ridge before the glass forms a wall of offices.

            Years ago, this old building was undertaken by the leaders of Vigilante, turning it into a training area.

            Even though the outside looked just like an ordinary warehouse, too dark, too mundane to even be considered as anything exceptional, this is where the vigilante trained.

            Inside, the first 23 floors were filled with empty office rooms, the ornate glass offices not starting until the 24th floor.

            I stand on the ledge of the glass office wall, the balls of feet resting on it, Half a step back and I would plummet down 24 flours to the ground level.

            Salem sits in his big office chair, only a sheet of paper on the large desk in front of him.

            He is on the phone when he looks up and sees me.

            His eyes flicker past me, already used to me just showing up right out his window to be scared.

            He nudges his head to the right, the look in his eyes ordering me to get down but I just stare at him, my jaw clenched as I slam the post it onto the window.

            It’s makes a satisfying thud.

            10th floor, fire exit. Ten minutes. Now.

            And making sure that he’s looking, I do a mock salute, stick my arms to my side and let myself fall back.

            My body twists, plummeting down like a bullet through still air as the rush of falling fills my ears.

            There is nothing remotely homely in this building, not the people in it, not the structure, not even the idea of it.

            This was a training center.

            A center or combat, of courage, and of strength in individualism.

            When I see a flash of brown eyes and auburn hair, I almost think it’s her, but when I reach out for the metal ledge, my hands ringing with the sharp impact of force against metal, It’s only Christine standing in the empty hall, with her arms crossed.

            Straining a bit from my side, I swing myself back and propel myself into the tenth floor.

            “Reckless traveling system you’ve got there,” she mutters sarcastically.

            “Yeah? Well, I like it like that. Keeps things interesting around here,” I tell her, in no mood for her sarcastic half-remarks as I stride through the halls.

            What was so dangerous about jumping off a window sill only to save yourself from hitting the floor by reaching out and grabbing the hallway rails?

            She scoffs behind me, walking just as swift. “Interesting enough for you to risk getting your body splattered like a tomato onto the last floor?”