Vigilante

When the great shock happened, the entire nation stood still. Very few events I can remember had brought such silence to an entire country in such little time. The entire state of California had been ripped from the mainland, and the coastline of North America changed overnight. The aftershocks went on for weeks. Hundreds of thousands of people were never found beneath the rubble, millions were evacuated to makeshift camps in less-affected bordering states. Some even went as far as the Midwest, as government agencies fought to find places for temporary refuge.

And in the ruins, people who had been outcasts and fugitives became the new sensation, heroes who worked as hard as anyone from emergency services to save lives and avoid further damage. The spotlight had shifted, and the time of innocence was over. Overnight, social media sparked a massive movement that hailed the superheroes as something akin to gods. And in the aftermath, a counter-movement also arose, seeking to out these 'gods' and referring to the thousands of comic books and movies showing the kind of damage and danger such powered people would bring with them.

"And I vow to you with all my powers as the President of these United States of America, that this city will be rebuilt…" The voice of the President sent a passionate wave through a stadium full of the sick and the now-homeless. A podium with a few microphones had been set up at one end, and the media were hovering around it. Men in black suits roamed the crowd, looming over the terrified civilians and trying to keep the President safe. You could just barely overhear the crackling of the radio transmissions to their earpieces, buzzing with reports from all around the stadium.

"And this city will stand stronger and more beautiful than it ever has before!" the President concluded, the destitute crowd applauding as if a sign above his head had given the order to do so. The President thanked the people and left the podium, leaving the press buzzing.

Just after he had stepped off the podium and towards the exit from the stadium, a scrawny man in a tailored suit approached and shook his hand, a warm smile stretching across both of their faces as they greeted one another. Ren recognized the man as Benedict Reissman, billionaire CEO of Reissman Industries.

"Fine speech, Mr. President. It will be a true pleasure working with you and FEMA on the rebuilding effort," Mr. Reissman said as he continued shaking the President's hand.

"Thank you for all your efforts, Mr. Reissman. Without your pledge, I'm afraid Congress would tear me apart. Even in such horrible circumstances, my opponents will seek to undermine me," the President said, nodding weakly.

"Of course, it is election season," the tailored CEO stated and released the slowly greying President's hand.

The two marched into the tunnels of the stadium, and Ren could no longer hear them.

A few hours later, Ren was walking down to fetch some water from a nearby logistics depot established by the National Guard. He had missed the delivery from the truck that offloaded both food and rations to the people in the stadium, and someone had managed to take his share in all the commotion.

A begging trip was the last thing Ren wanted to do, but he hadn't had a single bite to eat all day and his water bottle had just gone dry. There was a family living in a ruined house nearby as well, so he might as well try to grab a box for them too, if the people at the depot would allow it. From the looks of the family the last time he had seen them, it was clear the National Guard didn't know of their location.

As Ren walked, he suddenly heard screaming from up ahead.

"No! No, you asshole! Get away from me! Get…the f**k…away!"

Three shadows stretched over a wall, painting an absurd picture of what was happening just behind the wall. The checkpoint established in the middle of the avenue was empty, the light jingling of barbed wire echoing the eerie emptiness in the streets. Menacing laughter emanated from a set of male lips just behind the wall.

Ren's entire body trembled as he took deep breaths and walked forward. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he got closer. Among the weakening protests and deep laughter, a new sound joined the mix. There was a sharp whistle as something moved through the air very fast, followed by a squishy bludgeoning sound. Occasionally, a quick crack joined in, only to bring out a louder scream.

With swift feet, Ren rushed ahead, past the corner of the wall and down the alley. Light glistened off the wetness flowing over a black club. White knuckles wrapped a set of fingers around the grip of the club, and a strong arm brought it down time after time against a frail and cowering figure on the ground.

The next few moments were a blur of motion that even Ren in the midst of it could not keep track of. He moved very quickly, his arms and legs shifting by instinct more than command. At the end of it, he alone was left standing, his knuckles bruised and bloodied, his clothes torn, his breathing heavy and ragged.

Two men in camouflage were in the paved alleyway, their chests heaving with heavy breaths, their eyes closed, and their faces cut and bruised. Near them, the whimpering form of a small man began shifting, then moving towards the back of the alley.

"No…no…no more. Please, don't hurt me!" the cowering figure muttered with swollen lips as he crawled away from Ren and the unconscious soldiers.

With somewhat trembling legs, Ren got closer to the broken man. The light reflecting off his eye as he looked up at Ren painted a frame around the horrific fear shining from them like a beacon. With one hand, Ren reached down to touch and reassure him, but the man swatted the hand away as he scrambled to his feet and ran towards the other end of the alley.

With a sigh, he let the man run.

The entire state of California was a mess and had descended into madness and chaos. For a time, Ren bunked with the less fortunate before feeling the urge to move on. Looting was rife throughout the city of Los Angeles, and strict curfews had to be put in place to contain the situation. The world needed more heroes.

This was his time, a spark that kicked him into action. One evening, he slipped into a closed-off mall. Although mostly ransacked already, he found everything one might need to be a budding vigilante.

There was a clanking sound from outside the store. Ren had just gotten his outfit ready when he saw flashlights flicker on, and a few male voices began talking in slightly hushed voices. Someone was ransacking the sporting goods store he was in. Again.

Ren stalked towards the entrance but made sure to be as stealthy about it as possible, just to find out who these men were before jumping into any action. The shutter shook as the men tried to open it, then went around through the broken window as he had done before them. They walked on the broken glass, filling the store with a light crunching noise. The spotlights of their flashlights moved around the store, illuminating the surroundings for a brief moment before continuing.

"Hey, Jack, I think we've got something here," one of the men said, walking almost directly past Ren towards the back of the store.

"Yeah! These look to be in pretty good condition. These tents seem to be intact, and we've got all the poles. There were mattresses and sleeping bags too," the man at the back of the store called out. At the front, the rest of the men were quiet for a moment.

"I don't like this. Is this really what it's come down to? We're stealing?"

"It's not stealing, Jack! It's survival. Do you want your kids to keep sleeping without a roof over their heads? They'll get pneumonia, or worse!"

"Yeah…but this still feels wrong. We could just find a building that's at least somewhat safe, right?"

"We've been trying to do that for two days, Jack. Every place is either full or cordoned off as structurally unstable. We've looked everywhere!"

The man at the back of the store was shuffling around. Ren could hear the clinking of backpacks and then the sound of something being stuffed inside them. From the front, he heard another crunch of glass, followed by three gasps. A dark voice murmured, "Leave. Now."

"Oh god…Nightreaver…please, this is for our families…" one of the men said, his words followed by a nasty-sounding hit and a groan.

"Stay down," a rough, gravelly voice announced to the whole store. The voice was accented and harsh in a way that reminded Ren of certain German and Austrian actors. It was a voice that stood out as very distinct.

Ren quickly stood up and stepped out from between the shelves. Ren saw the man in black standing in the middle of three men, his fist clenched, with one of the men bent over and reeling from a punch in the gut. Ren could see Nightreaver scowling mouth, the rest of his face hidden behind a mask that was attached to a sleek bodysuit with some kind of padding inside to reinforce against attacks.

With Ren newly fashioned vigilante outfit on, he stood up to this already-infamous figure and saw a smirk stretch across his lips.

"Stop this," Ren uttered, and the smirk grew wider.

"I've seen a dozen vigilantes rise up since the quakes, along with little Miss Aura's appearance. What makes you think you have what it takes to take me on?" the masked man said. Meanwhile, the civilians were quickly making their way to safety outside the store.