Re: Zane [Sensitive Content]

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the M E G A

I thought this might be a good exercise in utilizing my powers during a real crisis, but right from the get-go I noticed something was wrong. As the van rocked around and my captors held themselves still by holding onto metal bars welded onto the interior walls of the vehicle, I fell flat on my back at such an angle that I could see under the potato sack on my head. The strange equipment lining the walls of the van looked almost identical to the computer-processors that were present in the van during my first kidnapping, except this time, there was a ridiculously loud whirring sound coming from them and all their display bulbs were blinking like the lights at an intense rave party. Shades of green, red, and yellow flashed on the masked men, who hardly paid me or the machines any attention, instead choosing to maintain a firm grasp on their bulky and menacing-looking assault rifles. It was different this time… no matter how hard I concentrated, my abilities wouldn’t activate. At first, I chalked it up to nerves and the fact that I really wasn’t prepared for such a high stakes scenario, but after almost five minutes of strenuous thought provocation, I realized my powers had remissed, and I was in some serious trouble.
I began to panic even worse when a sudden flash of light poured in from outside and the whole van violently rocked from side to side for a few seconds. The last thing I wanted was for anyone else to get hurt on my behalf, and if the cops became involved, there was the chance my dad could be in danger again. Powerless and frustrated at my dismal situation, I started to cry, hoping that either my captors would evade the police without any bloodshed or that they would be taken down before it evolved into a deadly shootout like the last time. Another flash of light followed by the vehicle’s heavy rocking made me curious as to what weapons the SPD were using — and whether they cared that the people inside made it out in one piece.
We sped along what I guessed must have been a highway for no more than another minute before the back of the van tipped abruptly, as if something were weighing it down. I turned around and shook the bag off my head in time to see the back door of the van be ripped off its hinges and tossed out into the street behind us. We must have been driving at least 90 miles an hour, but my eyes saw him clear as day: a tall, muscular blonde-haired, blue-eyed man dressed in a white kevlar uniform, standing effortlessly on the back bumper of the van. The man hunched over to peer inside and scowled at the masked men, who must have been scared out of their minds behind the thin cloth hiding their faces. Their fear only lasted a couple seconds, for a spray of bullet fire soon found its way heading in the superhuman vigilante’s direction. The heroic aryan retaliated by sliding back behind the door that was still intact and flipped onto the roof. A pattern of holes in the van’s metal walls followed the man’s movements, pausing only after being blinded by the bright sun when the roof of their vehicle was suddenly torn off in similar fashion to the van’s back door. With a flip, the mysterious savior jumped majestically onto the floor of the back room and got to work disposing of the criminals; a swift karate chop to the neck incapacitated the kidnapper on the driver’s side, and an almost simultaneous axe kick sent the thief on the opposite side of the van spiraling into the back of the passenger seat. As if ignoring me, the man of action marched toward the space between the front seats and relinquished the key from the ignition, initiating the van’s immediate deceleration. One more karate chop and the driver slumped unconscious in his seat. All threats taken care of, the man in white turned and kneeled down to untie the rope around my wrists.
“I hope you’re alright, son… these hooligans shouldn’t bother anyone else for a while.”
His voice was deep and somehow comforting, and I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the ensemble that was his combination of handsome features and chivalrous mannerisms, all with the spryness and strength of a true-to-life cinema action hero. I wondered, at first, if he had been something I wished into existence in my desperation, but looking upon the still running machines in the shell of an automobile the two of us sat in, I deduced that this fellow was of an entirely different nature.
“Who… who the heck are you!?”, I stammered, still amazed by his feats and the perfection of his appearance.
“If you must know, I’m Daniel–“, he said with a quick smile. “–and you must be him: son of Adams. Zane, I believe?”
“Yeah… are you with the police?”
Daniel chuckled and helped me up to my feet. The van had finally gotten down to about ten miles an hour and was moments away from coming to a complete stop. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked disdainfully back at the distant string of police cars with their blaring sirens.
“My affiliation with organized law enforcement is, uh… complicated… so I’ll have to talk with you in depth later. The people I work for have been keeping keeping tabs on you for a little while now, and we’ve found your “condition” to be of dire interest to us. Still, we wouldn’t want you to do anything against your will — I’m not sure we’d be able to anyways, with the kind of skills you possess — but I’ll tell you what: if you ever feel like you need answers, come visit us here–” Daniel pulled a business card out of his pocket and planted it in my hands. “That’s currently the only address of our headquarters. We hope you’ll consider investing some time with us very soon, for all our sakes.”
As the van finally stopped moving, the whine of a small engine crept into our ears from somewhere not too far away, and a reflective winged device soared into position above Daniel, who propelled himself into the air and grabbed onto a pair of control sticks. The gizmo’s design was not too far removed from that of a hang glider, except it appeared to be souped up with a myriad of technological gadgets and doodads. A single miniature jet engine adorned the back of the futuristic glider, and Daniel started to slowly fly away when I finished reading the card.
“Hold on, these are just coordinates and a map of the Gobi Desert… how am I supposed to find you, let alone get to Mongolia!?”
Daniel flashed me one last smile and gave a thumbs up.
“I’m sure you’ll find a way, Zane… remember, you can do anything you put your mind to!” With that, the white-garbed superhero flew off into the distance, leaving me to be retrieved and questioned by the cops yet again.
“Anything I put my mind to, huh…? Boy, that’s never been more true…”