The Undoing of Sidekicks | ✓

prologue

prologue

IT WAS THE KIND OF HOT, scorching sun that required ungodly amounts of SPF. It required ice-cold beverages, a hundred parasols and the presence of water. It required grit and endurance, for in order to survive it you needed to be prepared. It seemed that the majority of San Helios' inhabitants had come prepared, however, as they were  armed to their teeth with sun-screen, coolers and wide-topped parasols. 

All of these materials ensured they had a lovely day at the beach. In my case, however, they provided excellent barriers — ways to keep me from pursuing a criminal on foot. 

"Out of the way!" I called, leaping over an open wine cooler. "Move, people!" 

Idiots. All this for skin cancer in 20 years?

I whirled by a family hauling a lesser army of foldable chairs, then ducked low to avoid being speared in the stomach by a pointy, closed parasol. It astounded me how willingly people flocked to these massive, over-populated stretches stuffed with millions of small rocks. Beaches were overrated, in my opinion.

Or perhaps that was just because my catch of the day had proved adept at hiding among them. The man of the hour — a stocky guy in his thirties — was a thieving, lying, racketeering son of a trash bag. Despite all this, he worked for the tax department (of all places.) Well, that and the mafia. I'd disliked him from the very beginning, but even more when he'd run away from me. And here I was, actually attempting a peaceful approach for once. 

Apparently my usual approach wasn't very 'nice'. I thought it was efficient enough.

Punch first. Ask questions while punching. 

Growing tired of dodging red-faced toddlers and bumbling families, I veered off of my path. He was still running straight ahead, headed south along the famous stretch of beach that placed my city on the vacation-al map. I headed straight for the sea, instead.

This slippery fish I was chasing was very much a nuisance. I was not about to chase him down this entire public beach, in suit and all. It had been enough that I'd been required to even go outside today. 

I'd first attempted apprehending the bastard at the Italian place he'd been dining — pants unbuttoned, wine belching and all. It hadn't helped when his friends had drawn firearms on me. Being fired at when in pursuit hadn't eased my temper, either. 

Doesn't matter now, anyway. I thought, since his friends are currently stuffed in said restaurant's freezer. Realizing this, I winced internally. Hopefully someone finds them. 

With quick steps, I neared the edge of the beach. Soft, blue waves frothed white as they broke into waves, rolling unhurriedly toward the beach. There was a languid calm in the way it moved, one I completely disregarded as I broke into the sea with wide, long steps. The water swirled around my ankles as I stepped further into its deep. 

Then I glanced down, angled my wrist and made the water shift. Just the surface, just enough for it to harden. I grinned, angling my hand forward. With my new sprinting track in place, I took up pursuit again, this time in the water. Like a neat little katamaran I sailed over the waves in quick fashion, my nimble steps swallowing up the distance between myself and my huffing, puffing criminal. As pot-bellied and wine-favoring as he was, he sure had stamina. 

Too bad he was still weaving through the crowds, while I did the remainder of my race atop the water, heart throbbing as I neared. A quick, shark-like grin crossed my lips. 

Gotcha, sucker. 

I threw my hands out on either side of me, water streaming to form a comfortable barrier beneath my feet. Then I lunged forward, carried by the water's moment as it swept in across the beach. Sure, there were some outraged cries as my sudden tidal wave swept across adults and children alike, but they were here for water anyway, weren't they?

With maniacal glee, I watched as my small wave swept the arrogant thief off his feet. With a cough and more than a few spins, he lost his balance and tumbled headfirst into what had been a sandcastle. 

Coughing violently, he attempted getting sand and water out of his lungs. I calmly strolled up beside him, placed my boot on his back — effectively drowning the sap in sand once more — and spoke up: 

"We can either do this the hard way or ... wait, no. There's just the hard way." 

I patted his back with a hard boot, and smiled. 

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a/n: here we go guys! i'm excited. are you?