Second Class Supers – Page 37

Read Second Class Supers – Page 36
Kya tried to catch her breath and stop herself from crying. The mysterious man in gray continued to rub her back and soothe her. After a moment, Kya wiped her face and tried to stand up straight. She clutched her middle as it still ached, but she wanted to appear strong, despite feeling confused and alone.
“You will probably be sore for a while.” The man said as he stepped in front of her and watched her struggle with the pain. “I don’t think anything’s broken though.” He shook his head quickly as he spoke.
“Oh?” Kya groaned. “You have much experience with broken bones and people getting hit.”
The man chuckled. “I guess you could say it’s an occupational hazard.”
The man’s voice was smooth, and gentle. It wasn’t too low, or too high in pitch or volume either. It was warm, caring, but also strong and masculine. The fabric of the scarf, across the lower half of his face, was made of a thin enough material that it didn’t seem to muffle his voice and as Kya could not see his face, nor any of his skin, she only had his voice to go by. Judging by that alone, she thought he might be around thirty years old.
“What occupation is that?” She asked.
“I guess you could say I’m a sociology professor of sorts.” He shrugged his shoulders before he touched his temple with his right index finger.
Kya stared at him, unsure what to do with that answer or the gesture that followed it.
“I can’t take away the pain, but is there anything I can do to help you?” The man asked after a moment of silence. There was a jovial tone to his question that was also sincere.
Kya laughed in a less than happy way. “Not unless you have enough money lying around to buy me some Supers.”
Tapping his chin, he tilted his head to its side slightly. “You know what’s funny?” He didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “In all my time as a sociology professor, I have learned time and time again one inalienable truth about humanity.” He folded his arms and nodded, as if he was satisfied that his point was already made.
Kya shook her head and stared at him, she waited several seconds, her breath baited while she still clutched her middle. “And, what is that?”
“We always want what we don’t have, and we never fully appreciate what we do have.”
Kya stared at him with her mouth closed, unsure how to respond.
The man sighed slightly, and then began pacing back and forth slowly. The alley was silent for several moments as the man gestured wildly. As if he came to a conclusion, he stopped, turned and threw his hands up in the air. “What if I knew a way that you,” he pointed directly at Kya with both hands, “could get powers that didn’t involve the Black Market or any of the conventional means?”
Kya raised an eyebrow, the world melted away as her mind became fully focused on the stranger in front of her. “I’m listening.”
“Of course, it isn’t without catches.”
“Of course not.” She commented dryly.
“You would be given a random set of powers and only as many and of a variety that your body will naturally tolerate. At least that is what past examples would lead me to believe.” He shrugged again, then walked over to the red brick wall to Kya’s left and began tracing his finger along the mortar lines.
“What’s the cost?”
“No money crosses hands. All you would have to do is find out all you can about the history of Supers and then let others know what you find. If you are willing to do that, I would consider the trade to be fair.”
“Okay…” Kya rolled her eyes. “Look man, I have had a really stressful time of it recently, and I really don’t know what you’re playing at.”
“What’s your name?”
“Kya.”
“Kya, I’m not playing at anything. I’m immune to Supers. They could inject me with the whole rainbow and none of them would take. But I am, for lack of a better term, a carrier. My genes carry the mutations for pretty much every ability, but none of them manifest in me.”
“Sure.” Kya said and took a step away from the man. She found that it was easy to not believe someone with such an odd appearance, and a love for being melodramatic. However, she couldn’t force herself to leave. She had hoped, in some small place deep inside of her heart, that there was a chance to get what she wanted – what she felt she needed – to help herself and her friends.
He opened his hands wide, and spread his legs shoulder width apart, as though he was giving Kya an opportunity to get a good look at him. “I keep myself covered so I don’t accidentally pass on anything to an unsuspecting passerby. You see, one touch from me is all it would take to give someone superhuman powers as well as the limitations I talked about before and two more biggies. Anyone I touched would, like me, be immune to the Supers injections.”
Kya stood firm, more than a little intrigued by his story.
“And any child of said person would also, like me, be immune to Supers and be a carrier.”
“How do I know you’re not just some crazy drama student or some other whack job?”
“You don’t.” He shrugged. “But if you think that Supers will help to solve your problems, and you are willing to do as I ask to find out all you can about Supers and tell others your findings…” With his left hand, he began picking at the material at his right wrist and a moment later Kya watched as he began to unravel the fabric from his right hand. The skin underneath shone white, as if it had never seen the sun before, pale and soft looking. His nails were trimmed short. “This is your choice, Kya. If you want to, touch my hand.” He looked around and then stretched out his palm to her.
Kya thought for only a moment before she reached out with both hands, her heart racing in her chest.
His skin was warm, and soft. There were no callouses on his hand, but it felt strong and powerful. Kya stared at their hands and saw nothing. There were no dazzling colours filling her veins, no rush of energy, and thankfully no sensation of pain. She felt nothing other than the warm touch of a stranger. A normal hand.
Kya bent and squinted, hoping to see underneath his hood to see his face, but even arms length away, she found him to be covered in shadow.
He shook his head. “Hey! Not yet. You will see my face soon enough, I’m sure. But not yet.” There was still an expression of happiness to his voice that resonated with Kya. “When you’re ready, go see Marge. She’s at the diner to the west of the last stop on the South street bus line. It’s before the turn around. You’ll know it when you see it.” He gave her a thumbs up with his right hand and then began to wrap it up again.
“Um, thanks.” Kya said, sticking her hands in her pockets.

Read Second Class Supers – Page 38

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