My first thought upon leaving class was just to book it for the exit. Surely no one who care if I left. After all, I was just some useless girl with no friends who caused nothing but trouble. Who would really miss me? Even the school administration only cared about my attendance because universal education was a law and truancy was a misdemeanor. If they could get away with not enforcing said truancy law they wouldn't bother. Mr. Dancer had it right in the end. If I failed to learn what I needed to advance he wouldn't be the one who would suffer.
Though it was my first thought, the reality of my situation was that if I did try it not only would my mother suffer more from my misbehavior, I would most likely be caught before I could even leave the block. One downside to living in a city full of superheroes, is of course, the fact that there are literally a dozen heroes within earshot at any given moment.
To avoid being hauled back into the place I was trying to escape from, I decided that the most cliche hiding place would be the perfect one for my situation. While most schools in Mitt City do have an accessible rooftop, what with it being a city of superheros and all, students were not allowed to congregate up there. Something about it being a liability nightmare. As such, the rooftop access had a key-card access.
This trifling matter was nothing for someone who was like me though. I had long ago managed to come across a card of my very own. When things got too painful for me to deal with life, I would often sneak up there and hide in a covered nook that had supposedly been built to house a satellite up-link for passing superheroes. Why anyone would build something was beyond me. For the past twenty years access to Superia's Alliance of Heroic Societies had been available to anyone wearing their Link-comm.
With the advent of newer tech, there was simply no reason why any hero would bother to show up to disturb her. While its designer might be rolling over in his grave, the Sat-comm link at school was her haven, the one place where she felt like she could let her hair down.
Since she had found it, she had started storing all sorts of things up in the small room. At first it was just an extra stash of clothing, but months later she had a fully functional kitchen and storage. Reaching inside to grab the mini fridge she had salvaged from the local dump for an energy drink Kyri let out a sigh of relief. While school might be a lonly environment for a loner like her, at least there was a place where she could feel like she belonged, even for a little bit.
"Man, I just don't get it" she said to the empty room. "Why in the nine hells, did Mr. Dancer have to blow his lid just because I zoned out for a second or two? I mean it's not like his class was in the afternoon or anything. Eight a.m. classes should be banned under the Swartzheid Convention for being torture!"
While I was wallowing in my deep despair, I was unaware of what exactly was about to happen. Down at ground level a white van swerved violently down the road in front of the school. It was clear that the driver barely had enough control of the vehicle to keep it from rolling and plowing into the pedestrians on the sidewalk.
Just as the van reached the gate to the middle school, A plume of smoke erupted from the side of the passenger's side front tire sending the vehicle into a hard right hand turn. The resounding crash caused a mild shock wave to vibrate outwards towards the school building. Several glass windows vibrated from the resulting shaking but no damage came to any of the school buildings besides the gate.
"Dang it! Who let the idiot drive?" a man wearing a green hood swore. He and his men had been in the process of escaping a handful of street level vigilantes known as the Society of Secure Neighborhoods when their getaway driver had decided to play a game of chicken with this brick wall.
"Don't blame me, Boss" said simpleton replied."I was driving just fine when the tire blew up. There was no reason for it. None at all!"
"I am blaming you! Thanks to your carelessness, those costumed freaks are going to be on us at any moment and now that our getaway vehicle is toast. I refuse to go to Falcavana Penitentiary!"
"What's the plan then?" the third member of their crew asked. "We have to something!"
An evil smirk graced the leader of the group as he thought of the perfect solution to their problem. "We're going back to school, boys." The Society couldn't harm them if they had hostages after all.
The third member of his crew understood his plan immediately and joined him in chuckling. The getaway driver on the other hand stared on in confusion. "But Boss, if we go to school, won't those costumed freaks get to us? Shouldn't we just hightail it out of here while the getting is good?"
"Because you dolt, I can't afford to lose our precious cargo. It took ten months to track down. If I give it up now, I will never get another chance to use it. I was planning on waiting for the perfect tim, but I'm afraid that this school will have to do. Today I will launch the start of my grand scheme to take over Mitt City."
"You heard the boss, get a move on" his second-in-command ordered the getaway driver. "Open the rear doors and help me get this thing out."
"Oh, yeah, right away."
While this whole thing was going down, I was deeply engrossed in my own master plan. Rather I had decided that I could afford to pull an early study hall period today. While Mr. Dancer might complain to the Principal; my third period teacher, Ms. Jennica would understand. She was the only one on the teaching staff that seemed to understand me. Early on I had told her that the loss of my dad had really caused me a lot of problems. While this wasn't far from the truth, I did neglect to tell her the full story for obvious reasons.
After confessing to her that I was still suffering from unresolved stress and depression, she had worked with me to make sure that at least in this class, my trademark inability to get assignments turned in on time didn't effect my final grade. Throughout the first semester together, I learned to trust her and feel like I could depend on her just a bit more than your average person. I might even secretly believe that she might be the closed thing I have to a friend in this gods-forsaken place. But of course, I would never admit it if pressed. After all, I have my reputation as a dark, brooding loner to maintain.
With a pair of earbuds slipped in, I was listening to the local classic music station when the crash occurred so I didn't hear anything. It was only after the station's signal random cut out that I realized that something was terribly wrong. While a lost signal doesn't normally sound like something to freak out about, in this case my reaction was an accurate one. Just before the signal cut out the tone of a red alert news bulletin started to play. This tone was designed by the Alliance of Heroic Societies and doesn't sound unless you are near a category 4 disaster, otherwise known as a supervillain attack.
If supervillians were attacking the area, things were about to get really dangerous. Considering I was pretending not to have any powers, there wasn't anything I could do, but stay put and wait for the local Hero Association to arrive on the scene to fight the good fight. However, my plan to stay put was complicated by what I saw when I looked out the window.
Where normally there would be a bright blue sky, there was a shining green sky. A quick peak outside confirmed what I feared. The entire school building had been covered in a force-field of some sort. Adding to the desperation of the situation, it was clear that the local hero association was not going to cut it. In order to rescue the school, the Alliance would have to deploy at least Rank A heroes. Considering multiple factors, the time needed for heroes of that caliber to respond could be as long as four hours away. By then, the supervillians could have done a lot of damage. Who could tell how many innocent people could get hurt?
"No, the administration can handle it!" I scolded myself. What was I thinking? I couldn't go out there. I was no superhero. If anything I would just get in their way and get myself killed. Surely it was best to leave things to the professionals.
Yet deep within my heart, I could feel a familiar tug of guilt. I had the ability to help those in need, but I was refusing to do so. How was I any different from those who where actively harming my classmates? I may have done bad things in the past, but now I was being given an opportunity to make up for my past crimes. If I helped those who had ill will in their hearts towards me, perhaps I could finally take the first step toward redemption. At the very least, I could prove Mr. Dancer wrong.
While I knew I would hate myself for what I was about to do, I couldn't help myself. Surely one action wouldn't keep me from walking back into the shadows afterward? As long as people don't know that Kyri Carson was the one to save them, I could continue my life as a normal powerless middle schooler. Besides, as much as I hated my classmates, I didn't want them to die.
With my choice made for good or ill, I realized that I needed some way of concealing my identity. If my plan was to work, I couldn't allow anyone to realize that I was Kyri. A flash of inspiration hit me just then. If I wore my spare clothes from gym class, it would be a start.
I pulled out my Mitt City Marchers' hoodie from the bag that I stored up here in case I ever got cold. With its dark grey hood, my face would be partially covered. Now the important part was finishing the job. Digging around in the room, I found an old pair of black workman's gloves and boots. These would provide some protection from injury in combat. Suited up, I was about to head out when I noticed an odd glint of light from the corner of my eye. Following it, I found something surprising, sitting wedged behind the cabinet holding the Sat-comm link was a black plastic mask.
"This is perfect" I said, holding up the mask. The black plastic seemed to call to me, urging me to put it on. The only thing that seemed to be missing was the cord that would hold it on my face. Looking around I did my best to find it but to no avail.
Frustrated, I couldn't help but sigh. I wanted to use the mask, but it wouldn't do me any good if it wouldn't stay where it was supposed to. Just as I was about to cast it aside, something made me place it up against my face. To my surprise, I found that even after I tried to remove it, that the mask stayed firmly in place. It was then that I realized what I thought was plastic was in fact some sort of metal that was almost as soft as fabric.
"That's really strange" I said, startled by my discovery. However, I didn't have time to ponder what I had just stuck to my face. There were people in danger. With my hood raised up to cover the rest of my head, I was ready to spring into action.