"Here, you can sit here," I say.
"Oh thank you, you sweet handsome young man," says the old woman in the bus.
"Yeah, no problem," I reply.
I move towards the back of the bus, trying my best to not attract attention to myself. That's right, right now I'm on a public bus, I must act like a regular person so that no one will find out about us. At least they let us go outside and experience the real world when we're not busy hunting down rebel groups. I understand why all this secrecy is necessary too; it's because I'm not normal. I look normal; everything about me looks normal. But that's the thing, I look normal but I'm not normal at all.
My code name is number ten but my real name is Jason. I look like a regular human but I'm much superior to regular humans in every possible way. My strength, intelligence, speed, vision, hearing, energy, healing and infinite other abilities are more than that of the average human. Ten times more to be exact. I am equivalent to ten human beings. Basically it'll take at least ten people to take me down but probably more since I trained all my life to be the perfect soldier.
So what is a super soldier like myself doing in a random local transit bus? Well I'm glad you asked. I'm just so done with all these special missions that even being in a bus is so fun. My favourite pastime is riding the bus and acting like I'm normal. At least over here I won't get shot at on sight. That's what I was thinking as two men in hoods entered the bus. They were super tall, muscular and wore all black clothing. They had huge backpacks on; I wonder what's inside. Actually I don't, I don't care. I am a regular person right now and regular people don't think beyond what's necessary.
But it's second nature by now for me to be aware of danger at all times. Therefore, I can't stop observing the two men that just entered the bus. They keep looking at each other, as if they are waiting for the right time to do something. And then it happened all at once, so fast that I'm pretty sure no one else but me knew what was happening. The two men zipped open their bags with no wasted movement and out came what looked like two fully loaded assault rifles.
I was already standing, fully ready to intercept them but dare not do so incase they fire and hit somebody out of surprise.
"Every single person here just give us all your money and we'll leave, simple as that," said one of them.
"You sure those are not fake?" asked a passenger and as soon as he said that my heartbeat went up ten folds.
BANG! The man dropped to the ground, lifeless in his own puddle of blood.
"No, they're not fake, anyone else asking?"
Some lady started screaming nearby, a horrible screech. BANG! BANG! BANG! The bullets roared towards the ceiling of the bus.
"No one fucking speak, unless you want a bullet through your head."
That shut her up real quickly. My head started throbbing as I started to think of all the possible ways I can subdue the pair. But I did nothing, absolutely nothing. It was the absolute law that us numbers can't engage with the common public in any way that will expose our true selves. Those who made us made this law. I don't know what the consequences are for breaking it and I don't really want to find out. One man died; it breaks my heart but there is nothing I should do in this situation. We'll all just obey these fuckers and they'll leave killing no one else.
"Get in line all of you."
People hurried and got into a single file line like a bunch of sheep. I was all the way at the back. I think people just want to get this over with so they prefer to be at the front rather than at the back. People hand over their belongings and the line moves on until a lady with a two year old looking kid gets stopped.
"I want the necklace on your neck."
"No please this was the first gift my husband ever gave me," said the lady.
No, no, no, no, no. Don't these people understand?! Just give them what they want and no one else will die. Is it that hard to understand? Think about your kid for god's sake, woman!
Just then, one of the guys began to move their gun. The gunpoint was heading downward and my heart dropped. They're going after the kid! I know myself well enough to know that I can not live with that kid's blood on my conscience.
I will regret this, I know I will but I zip through the line towards the front as fast as I can. About halfway there, I see the bullet leave the gun, headed straight for the kid's head. I didn't know I can go faster but I went faster, stretching my muscles past their limits. I'm not going to make it but I must; I was made for moments like this. The bullet is whiskers away from the kid as I jump right in front of her.
The bullet rips through my chest and digs through my muscles all the way to my heart; it buries itself there. I'm on my knees, still, trying to figure out what to do next. A handful of seconds pass.
BANG! BANG! Two more bullets dig through into me. Now it hurts, kind of.
"This psycho wasn't going down after one bullet. A couple more should do the trick," says one of the men.
I laugh when things are actually funny, like right now, "If you want me to go down maybe put like seven more bullets in me."
I jump to full height, knee the closer of the two men in the stomach and extend my legs to kick the one further away right in the face. I hope I used a tenth of my strength or else these two are done for good.
I smash through a side window and drop out of the bus. I hear screaming behind me but all I do is run as fast as I can away from all this.
I messed up.