The Vigilantics by Kevin Moyers

The Vigilantics, Chapter 1 by Kevin Moyers

The speaker stood at the lectern of what seemed like her millionth meeting. She was a young woman in her late twenties. Margarita Araceli Kele Luna went by Maggie most of the time, but her full first name haunted her. She'd thought about having it legally shortened, but she was named after her grandmother, and she couldn't ever bring herself to go through with it.

Maggie was just over five feet tall. Her straight almost black hair framed her usually scrunched tan face and ran a good six inches below her shoulders. She referred to herself as thick, a term she immediately latched onto the first time she heard it. During her drinking days, she struggled to maintain a healthy weight, as the nausea from frequent hangovers destroyed her appetite, sometimes for days on end. Two years, three months, and eleven days into sobriety, Maggie felt physically healthier than she ever had. She still struggled with anxiety and a lack of confidence, but she actively worked toward a more positive view of herself. Helping others with their recovery was an important part of her journey.

That's not why Kyle was here. He kicked his habit nearly two decades ago, though the trauma that it led to still weighed heavily on him. He attended for a specific reason, and alcohol abuse wasn't it. His eyes were fixed on Maggie as she spoke about what led her to that podium. He was half listening as he thought about how ironic her name was, considering the situation.

He had other things in mind when it came to Maggie. He studied every inch of her throughout the meeting. While he recognized that she was very pretty, his purpose wasn't objectification. He needed to identify her. In the video he watched, the woman he was looking for was only shown from the back. If he was right, and this was her, Kyle was sure he could convince her to be an ally. Everything about her seemed right, including her mannerisms and her girl next door apparel. She wore very dark straight-legged jeans, a white raglan t-shirt with light grey sleeves, and white slip-on sneakers with ankle socks. She wore a small pendant around her neck. It was a simple rectangle with an X carved out of basalt stone and tied with a black cord. It was handed down from her grandmother. As Maggie spoke about future meetings and people staying around to stack chairs, Kyle slumped down in his seat and rubbed his completely shaved white head with his right hand.

Kyle had circles under his eyes from a lack of sleep. He was a decent enough looking guy, but nothing special. He kept his beard trimmed as neatly as he could manage up to the tops of his ears, where the sideburns finished to a point. A few grey hairs began to appear, but he hardly noticed. His shaved head concealed the male pattern baldness he'd inherited from his mom's side of his family. At five-foot-nine, he wasn't particularly imposing, physically, but his demeanor could flip from jovial to serious in half a second. The lines in his face showed the four plus decades he'd experienced, and the lack of definition in his chest and abs shared the sentiment. His typical attire was a black t-shirt, jeans that looked like they had been to battle, and a ratty pair of cheap royal blue and white high tops. He looked like an ordinary loser, but he was far from it.

Kyle stood, nodding back at one or two people that acknowledged him. He began stacking chairs as he kept an eye on Maggie. He couldn't let her leave without talking to her. Having seen what she was capable of, he knew that he needed her help. As he arranged his last stack, he watched as Maggie slipped on a purple hoodie. That was the clincher. She was definitely the woman from the video. A knowing grin formed on Kyle's face.

Maggie walked over to the snack table and poured herself a cup of watery coffee with powdered creamer for the road. As always, she would be left to clean up while everyone else scurried from the church rec room. "Good meeting," Kyle said as he walked up behind her. Maggie turned suddenly, splashing piping hot coffee onto Kyle's left arm. He didn't even blink. "Oh, god, are you okay?" she asked. "You startled me." Kyle grabbed a flimsy paper towel from the table to wipe the mess. "It's okay," he said. "That's completely my fault. I shouldn't have walked up behind you like that. I wasn't thinking."

Maggie watched as Kyle wiped the liquid from his arm. The coffee was scalding, but he wasn't burned at all. His skin wasn't even red. She started to feel nervous. Something about this guy wasn't right. "Are you alright?" she asked. "Oh, yeah. This is nothing," he consoled. She didn't feel any better about what she had just seen. "Anyway," Kyle said, changing the subject, "I saw your video. Pretty impressive." Maggie looked confused. "Video?" "On YouTube," he nodded. She clearly had no idea what he was referring to. "Wait, you haven't seen it?" Kyle asked. Maggie shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kyle held up a finger as he reached into his pocket for his phone. "I'll show you," he said. Maggie became more nervous as he looked for the video online. "Here it is," he said, flipping his phone sideways as he handed it to her. She took it with one hand and watched. The video showed some kids playing basketball at a park. A couple with a dog walked by in the background, and a car or two went past on the adjacent two-way side street. She initially thought nothing of it. "What is this?" she asked. "Keep watching," Kyle insisted. His eyes didn't leave her face. The game in the video was fairly uneventful, but Maggie kept watching, following the ball. Her eyes went wide when a woman in a purple hoodie came into frame. The woman's head was down, and her dark hair covered her face. Kyle noticed Maggie's reaction, and he began to smile.

While the woman in the video walked past the game, a car on the far side of the street started to veer to the left. Another car appeared in the near lane, and it swerved hard right to avoid a collision. That's when the woman in the video looked up. The swerving car was going too fast and hit the curb hard. It started to flip and was most certainly headed for the kids on the basketball court. "Oh, no," Maggie mumbled as she watched. It wasn't because she was concerned about what was going to happen. It was because she already knew.

As the car became airborne, the woman in the video held her hands up. The car stopped midair. She seemed to struggle as she pushed her fingertips forward, rolling the car back toward the ground. It dropped onto its tires, and the woman dropped her arms. Everyone in the video was frozen, their eyes all fixed on this extraordinary hero. She noticed, and quickly ran off. The video stopped. Maggie was frozen as an anxiety attack began to take over her body.

"You saved those kids and that driver. Someone probably would have been killed if you hadn't been there," Kyle reassured. Maggie snapped out of her daze and shoved his phone into his chest. "That's not me," she said. "Really?" Kyle replied. "That's interesting, considering you have the same build, hairstyle, and fashion sense as the woman in the video." Maggie pushed past him. "I have to go."

She bolted through the front door of the church, and the late afternoon Arizona sun blinded her. She felt shaky and disoriented. She doubled over and put her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Kyle cautiously walked out behind her. He pulled a pair of cheap sunglasses out of his back pocket and put them on. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out," he said. "Just go away," Maggie gasped.

Kyle stood silently for a minute. He crouched down near Maggie and spoke quietly. "You're not alone." Maggie turned her head toward him. "You noticed that the coffee didn't burn me. That's part of my gift, curse, whatever you want to call it. You're not alone." Maggie's breathing started to slow as he spoke. "I'm not here to hurt you or out you. I need your help." Maggie straightened up, still catching her breath. "Help with what?" she asked.

Kyle stood and rubbed his head. "Well, I've been staking out this warehouse near downtown. They're storing some kind of chemicals in there, and I'm fairly certain that they're using them for human DNA experimentation. Armed guards go in and out of the place day and night. I need to get in there and find out exactly what they're doing."

Maggie showed disapproval on her face. "That's a crime. Breaking in is a crime. I'm not going to be any part of this. I need to go." She reached into her pocket for her car keys and started to turn away. "I just, I can't do this. This is crazy." Kyle reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "Wait, please." Maggie spun around angrily. "Why?" she barked. "Why should I get involved with this mess?"

Kyle hung his head. He slowly slid the sunglasses off of his face. "Because," he said with desperation in his voice, "I think these are the people that made me what I am." "What are you?" she asked. Kyle looked up at her. "I'm an absolute train wreck." Maggie looked him over for a moment. Part of her wanted to help, but she was too afraid. "I can't," she said. "I'm sorry." She turned and walked to her car. Kyle didn't say another word. He watched her go, but he knew he couldn't stop trying to convince her.

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