Immune (NaNoWriMo2014)(Wattys 2014)

2) The Vegan Menu

Nathan inhaled, the smell of the 'clean' night air causing him to wrinkle his nose. The air was so impure, with residual scents of marijuana, blood, and pollution in general, it almost caused him to retch in the middle of the street.

They call this 'pure' air. Try Mother's garden, maybe they could smell something without upheaving their lunch.

True, his nose was way more sensitive then theirs. They being... everyone, but how they lived in this place was beyond him.

He turned to a sidestreet, where what seemed to be a gang was beating up some poor soul. They saw him approaching, and any onlooker would have thought that he was in massive amounts of trouble. The gang, consisting of several bulky Black men and a couple of skimpily dressed Latino women, parted like the Red Sea for Nathan.

He walked deliberately in between them, stopping as he reached the man on the street. He was a young black boy, around sixteen or so. Presumably his cap was lying a few feet away from him, and his face was a bloody mess.

Nathan calmly lifted him up by the shoulders, bent down, and handed the boy his cap. He was crying, red tears streaming down his bruised and battered face. Nathan felt a part of him grow angry, even though most of him didn't care eitherway. Human beings harbored an ingrained fear of him; they all knew that he was something not worth it to anger.

For a damn good reason, too. Trip.

He could feel the earthy tendrils sliding up from underground, the loose vegetation beneath and around the surface rising to Nathan's need. Simultaneously, all of the gang members fell, pulled by the ankles to the floor. Before they could see it, the vines and long grasses slithered back into the ground, sheltered from the outside world.

Nathan looked at the gang, satisfied that he had done two justices in one day. Of course, one justice he card about much more, but he was feeling generous. He slung an arm around the victim boy's shoulder, and steered him away. One of the Latino girls wore a skirt commando, and that was a view Nathan didn't need him nor his new companion to see.

"Were gonna go eat something, and you'll clean up your face. Then we'll find out where you live, and we'll get you home. Sounds good?"

The boy shivered, both from the brisk air and at Nathan's unsettling touch. "N-n-nah, I'm g-good. R-really, you don't gotta do nothin'."

"Isn't that a nice story. Come on." He navigated the boy across the street, knowing that if he really wanted to, he could lift the poor boy to wherever he wanted. He wasn't all that good with human relations, even though he wasn't too different from them. He was really the only one of his kind, but that was besides the point.

"What's your name?" Nathan asked, deeming that the boy was too scared to run or resist. Prolonged exposure to someone like him could do that to a person.

"Reysaun," the boy replied after a moment. "Wh-where are w-w-we going?"

"Bueno Nacho," Nathan said. Maybe with that hundred dollar bill, I can actually pay for it, too he added silently. He usually just made the people there forget. It was a cinch, really. It made him feel a little dirty tampering with human beings. Using the earth against them was one thing, but actually interfacing with them was another deal.

They turned into a more populated area, the quaint little houses, government projects, and apartment buildings giving way to more modern shops and food joints. There was an open food court area for somewhat of a small college town. Bueno Nacho, a small Mexican food stand some college kids built and maintaned for the hit Disney TV show, Kim Possible.

Nathan pushed open the doors to the restaurant, the smell of processed meat and overly - preserved vegetables assaulting his virgin nose, making his recently violated eyes water.