The Original Chronicles of the Nightshade

Flight

The half-moon loomed in the midnight winds, resting on a blanket of twinkling stars, that smiled down on Tsunami Bay. They didn't have many opportunities to shine like this, but when they did, they were a sight. Blues and whites, reds and yellows. Celestial beings in the sky or just balls of incandescent gas?

The air was crisp and the night was ripe. Nightshade couldn't enjoy a minute of it. Heavily breathing she recovered behind a bus stop down an empty street, a stop sign reflecting a red glare of white anger from the moon's grin. All of her life she has lived in this city, and she has never felt so lost in her life. What street was this? How far was she from the water tower? Was she even on that side of the Bay? Why was she even running?

Nightshade peeked past her temporary barrier and saw about a dozen guys limping towards her with chains and knives, metal pipes and guns. She had nightmares about stuff like this, only they all had guns and there were women and children among the mob. The radiation of mutual and unanimous hate was contagious and spread faster than a flash flood rose.

They had found her sleeping in an alley, catching her off guard. Orange bandanas were the first thing she saw, and she smiled at how silly they looked. That was before she saw them all with weapons. She stayed still, hoping she'd be ignored so she could return to her stupor, but it became evident that their target was her.

"Thought you could mess with the Flames?" One them said and Nightshade shot up, stumbling out of her makeshift bed of cardboard, rags and trash bags.

Then she had found herself here. Out of breath and unable to rest. Running from a bunch of guys bent on her...actually she didn't know what they were bent on. Was it her death or just to rough her up a little? She didn't think to stop and ask. Normally she would just defend herself...

She watched as the Flames started to fan out, looking for her, walking in five groups of three and two. No plans were coming to mind, and her instincts were on full panic mode. It wasn't long before she found herself cornered at the dead end of the street, buildings where she couldn't find handholds, and waiting them out was going to be a problem.

She had no idea how much time had passed. As as her luck would hold, the Flames seemed to be giving up, but there were a few strays—

"Trouble with the Flames?"

Nightshade jumped at the silky voice and whipped towards it. She jumped again at the sight of the black and gray clad hero, lurking in the darkness, just outside the ray of a street light. The hat and trench coat he wore was a dead giveaway. She growled in disgust, but wasn't going to risk leaving. I suppose being with him is better than being hunted out there...

"Hey don't be frightened, duckling, I ain't gonna hurt you." He took a car out of the brim of his hat and made it fly across the air into Nightshade's line of vision. "The name's Jack. Jack of Spades."

Nightshade swiped the card away. "Yeah, I know who you are," she hissed and turned away, trying to pinpoint the nearest Flame. She had see him in the News too. Two years ago he had been given four medals of honor and the year before that, something called a Nobel Peace Prize. Whatever that may be. She didn't exactly feel peace fun around him.

"Hey, no need to be touchy, I'm just here to help."

Yeah, right. Nightshade remembered the last hero who wanted to 'help' her. "Don't need it." She spotted one down the sidewalk, dangerously close to her.

"Come on, duckling," He took a step toward her. "Don't be—" She must have shifted in her hood or he just suddenly became three times more aware of whom he was talking to and put all the pieces together. His voice faltered and he took his step back. "I wasn't expecting ya to be the Nightshade."