Misadventures in Reporting

#2 - No Language Barrier

It happened again.

Robbers were fleeing from a jewelry store when a large rock broke through the street, making the criminals crash right to it. Last time it happened, it had been in Los Angeles. The time before that, Paris. This time, Chicago. Lucky for Melinda, she was the one sent to cover the scene.

This was the first time she got to write anything about the emerging superheroes. She figured it was only a matter of time before one showed up in this city. They did have a knack for making appearances in large cities. But perhaps that had something to do with the higher crime rate in them.

Melinda and her coworker, Kevin Myung, arrived about fifteen minutes after they received a call from one of the policemen working the case. By the time they got there, the perps had just been placed inside a cruiser and driven away. While normally they would follow to the station, in this case, the crime was not the story.

"I was wondering when we'd get to see this in person," Kevin said, checking on how the last picture he took looked in his camera.

"The guy has to be close," Melinda muttered, as she inspected the scene.

"Nah, doubt it," the photographer said. "It's been twenty minutes already. Guy's probably halfway across town by now."

Melinda tapped the pen to her chin in thought. There was something she was missing. She could feel it in the tip of her tongue, but couldn't remember at the moment. Great timing to forget important details, she internally kicked herself.

Okay, let's recap, she started, moving closer to a lamppost to write in her notepad.

The first time it happened, the wreckage was left in place, causing an outrage from the city's citizens and workers. That was in Paris, right? Yeah, that was the press conference that needed translation.

Then the second time was in Los Angeles. But in that one, the big thing disappeared almost immediately. That's the one where there's only one picture of it.

Both times it was criminals. In Paris it was a guy in a bicycle, and in Los Angeles it was a car. Hmmm, she tapped the end of her pen to her chin, reviewing the notes she wrote. That makes three times these appear in what turns out to be a crime scene, so I guess the superhero theory may actually be accurate. But we've yet to see this supposed Cronus guy. Although, if last time—

But her train of thought was cut off when her notes were suddenly dark.

Damn light, Melinda mentally cursed. She sought the next lamppost, close to the alley. The light had just reached her notepad, when movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention.

Yet, before she could properly look at whatever it was, the ground underneath her shook and a loud bang resounded behind her. Immediately, she whipped her head towards the noise, just in time to see the giant rock sink back into the ground.

Melinda didn't wait to see the shock on the cops faces. She turned her gaze back to the alley, where she now saw the silhouette of a man jump, startled, and start running the opposite way.

"Hey!" she called, starting to run herself.

Of course! Melinda thought excitedly. Last time he fixed the damage, after being called out for it the first time!

The knowledge was enough to give her the needed adrenaline to chase the guy deeper into the alley and around a corner. She was so absorbed in not losing the person from sight, that she didn't even hear her coworker call out for her.

Instead, she continued running and running, turning a corner, getting back out into the sidewalk, hitting people's shoulders, getting several insults, turning into an alley again, jumping over several boxes thrown in the way by the man...

Finally stopping when they reached a dead end.

He was trapped.

"It's you," she let out, forgetting to be professional. "You're one of those superheroes that go around the world. The earth one—uh..." she snapped her fingers. "Cronus."

The man looked at her nervously, fidgeting his fingers.

"Eeeh... Lo siento, no hablo inglés," he said.

Melinda's eyes widened as she listened to her native language, but with a different accent. Now that she looked at him properly, she realized he didn't look Caucasian. His skin was tan, his hair dark, and eyes slightly squinty.

He was Latino.

In her excitement, she started speaking Spanish.

"¡Sé español! Eres Cronus, ¿verdad?" she asked again about his identity.

"Aaaw, shit," the man said.

Melinda arched an eyebrow.

"Wait, you—ARGH" But she didn't get to finish her sentence, because a circular barrier of hard earth trapped her in her place, covering her whole body and leaving her hands stuck in front of her chest, holding a pen and the notepad.

"Sorry," Cronus said in a thick, Spanish accent. He then turned to the dead end and placed his hands on the ground. The ground shook once again, but this time, a large pillar grew from it, lifting Cronus high enough for him to jump to the emergency stairs of the building. The earth then went back to its place, while he continued to climb and disappear.

The journalist stared, gaping. She didn't even notice when she dropped her pen. Her notepad would've also fallen, if it hadn't been stuck between the rock and her chest.

This. Is. RIDICULOUS.

"KEVIN!" she screamed for her photographer.

Nothing.

"KEVIN!!!" she tried again. "ANYBODY?!"

After several more tries, Melinda started to lose hope anyone would find her. That was, until...

"Melinda?!" She heard in the distance.

"KEVIN!"

She started stomping her feet inside the cocoon, yet her upper body wouldn't budge. The two continued calling each other, until the photographer was finally behind her. Melinda heard his steps slow down, each time closer. When she turned her head, she saw him stepping to the side, jaw dropped.

"Hey," she said sheepishly, wiggling the fingers of the hand that used to hold the pen.

It was all the man needed to double over in a fit of hysterical laughter. Melinda immediately pouted.

"Ruuude!" she complained. "Please, help me outta here!"

"What—" Kevin cackled again, trying to regain his composure. "What the shit?!"

"I found Cronus!"

"What did you do to him?!"

"Nothing!" Melinda stomped her foot again. "I can tell you what happened later, after you help me outta here!"

"Wait," Kevin snorted, while starting to open his backpack.

"You've gotta be kidding me," the reporter deadpanned.

"It's just too good!" he laughed, bringing his camera up to his face.

"Kevin, you prick!" Melinda huffed.