The weather was cooler, it had rained through the night. The rising sun evaporating water from the deep green grass at the memorial park.
Volta sat on a bench near the white monument watching as children and families moved through to the school beyond.
He was tired, a restless sleep full of questions about his family and thoughts of ethereal Karen. His stomach flipped every time someone walked over the bridge and into the park, he wanted to see her again, he wanted the answers he'd been looking for. He was excited, and scared for what was to come.
He wore a white shirt today, he never knew he had one until he opened his closet this morning. Bob used to try and get him to wear other colours but had given up a long time ago, this was probably the work of Sage.
Change was nice, he hoped the white made him look more inviting. He hoped it shouted 'you can trust me with your small children'.
He shook his head.
Maybe too much change was bad, he was starting to lose touch with his inner badass.
He drummed his fingers while he waited. Surely she would be here any minute.
His phone vibrated on the bench next to him.
"What?" he said, arms crossed.
"Volta?" came a small voice, shaking, whispering.
Volta stood up, a chill down his spine.
"Daisy?" he looked around the park, heart racing.
"Volta… mum's gone…" Volta's stomach dropped, "Volta I'm scared."
"Where are you?"
Daisy started to cry on the other end of the phone.
"I'm in the underground." the connection crackled and cut out.
Volta ran as fast as he could, dodging around people in the park.
Over the bridge and into the underground carpark of the mall.
He stood at the entrance, a thousand parked cars spreading out in front of him.
He paused, attempting to slow his breath.
If he was going to find her he had to focus.
He closed his eyes, picturing a carefree Daisy waving to him from across the council forecourt.
A car screeched into the underground.
Volta's eyes flew open, muscles tensed.
It was the Discovery. His friends running towards him, pained faces.
"We've got Daisy," Sage called out, holding her laptop, "she's on the other side of the lot. You have to get to Karen."
They came to a stop in front of Volta, out of breath.
"Track Karen," Bob said doubled over, "she just went off our radar a block from here."
"Volta," Joey wheezed, clapping Volta on the shoulder, "this is what we've prepared for. Get the fuck out of here."
Volta didn't need any more convincing, in the blink of an eye he ran from the underground and up onto the street.
Cars and people everywhere, unaware of his dire situation.
He pictured Karen as he ran, letting his feet guide him as he bounded between cars and bikes. People shouting profanities and children clapping in his wake.
He slowed as he rounded the corner onto Queen, alarm bells ringing loud in his ears as his body braced for something.
This was more than the usual Nambour happening; a stabbing, a shooting, a fistfight… they didn't feel like this. Nothing had felt like this before.
He blended into the wall of the bank on the corner, edging along to the aqua coloured alley.
His heart flopped around in his chest when he saw it.
It was Karen, she was alive. But not for long.
The thug from Velvet's kitchen was there with two others, backing Karen into a corner.
"We just want to talk," the thug said, grinning through the bandage on his face, "there's no need to be violent."
Karen balled up her fists, Volta could feel her energy growing stronger, angrier.
The two men on either side of the thug pulled out guns and trained them on Karen.
The thug pulled out an oversized syringe from his pocket, snickering to himself.
Karen let out a yelp, face turning white in fear.
Volta had only seconds to act.
"Hey now," Volta appeared out of thin air right behind the two men with guns, "where are your manners?"
He grabbed them and smashed their heads together.
The thug spun around in shock, liquid dripping from the syringe.
He laughed.
Volta's face fell as the men with guns straightened up, unaffected by getting their heads beaten together.
He punched one in the throat.
Nothing.
He punched the other in the nose.
Nothing.
Karen edged her way further down the alley in search of an escape.
The thug continued to laugh, thoroughly amused.
"This must be Volta," he said, cradling the syringe, "boss has told us so much about you."
The two men with guns held them up to Volta's head.
"Tell me, do you still heal when your head is blown off?"
Volta's nostrils flared.
Ok, time for Plan B, he thought.
He blended again, narrowly missing the first shot from man with gun number one.
They looked around, confused.
"Keep shooting," the thug said, "he's still here."
They fired off more shots.
Volta wove between them and went right for the thug.
He whacked the syringe from his hand.
Reappearing behind him, punching him in the kidneys repeatedly until he fell to the ground.
The thug laughed, his men training their guns on a now visible Volta.
Volta looked further down the alley, Karen was now safely over a dividing fence and running onto the main street.
"It has been so long," the thug said as he gathered himself, standing up to his full height, "since I have had a good fight."
He flicked his head at this men.
"Get her. I've got him."
They ran from the alleyway, hands on ears as they spoke to their team.
He turned around, slicking his hair back with a comb produced from the pocket of his jacket.
Volta stood, hands behind his back, waiting for the first hit.
The thug was fast, coming in with a jab to Volta's chin.
Volta moved slightly, barely dodging the hit. Trying to conserve energy.
The jabs came faster, Volta still out maneuvering the thug.
He ducked down and delivered a blow to the thugs stomach, weaving under his arms and slapping him on the side of his head as he moved past.
He was now in a better place to escape the alley.
He had to leave and find Karen before the men with guns did.
But he had to destroy that syringe first.
Nothing good ever came in a novelty-sized syringe, especially not one wielded by a laughing thug.
"I like you…" the thug said, turning around, smiling, "you fight good."
He punched Volta right in the sternum.
Volta flew backwards in the air, gravel tearing his white shirt as he skidded along the ground.
He lay there, winded.
Well, that was unexpected, he thought.
He jumped to his feet, ready to go again.
Footsteps rushed into the street, more men with guns surrounded him at the alleyway entrance.
The thug pushed through the line of men holding his syringe.
"Did you know Volta, that you are number one on Boss' list?"
Volta stepped backward.
He stopped, feeling the barrel of a gun pressed against his head.
He ran the calculation in his mind.
It would take too long to recover from a head wound.
"I'm going to be rich." the thug laughed, stepping closer.
Volta rolled his eyes, shaking his head, trying to buy time.
The second time in 24 hours he had to think quick.
This time to save the life of a woman he might just love.
This thug had a large team, undoubtedly with resources beyond Volta's fathom.
They would keep coming, this was his last chance to save Karen and find a way to hide her.
"What is it Volta?" the thug crooned.
Volta shrugged.
He still didn't have a plan.
"I guess I just don't feel like getting caught today." he said earnestly.
His mouth went dry.
Time was up.
Time to wing it.
He clicked his fingers, blending with his surrounds again.
He stepped to the side, grabbed the hand holding the gun to his head and without hesitation pulled the trigger.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
He shot them all.
The men with guns went down, screaming on the ground.
Some weren't screaming at all.
Some were dead.
There was blood. Everywhere.
The thug stood in the middle of the carnage unharmed, slack-jawed and glassy eyed.
Volta didn't have time to think, just run.
He could still feel Karen.
He still had time.
His hands shook as he ran from Queen up onto Howard.
His breath was ragged.
His thoughts raced.
He could feel her on this street.
He just had to keep on going.
A line of black town cars flew past him, the thug at the wheel of one.
Further up the road were more men, all in black, running through the sidewalks.
Pushing people out of their way, guns drawn.
It was pandemonium.
She was slipping away.
He couldn't do this alone.
He had no choice.
He slowed as he reached the block of the deli.
Now or never, Volta.