Chapter 1
When I get back to the van, Skye is gone. The only thing left in her place is a sticky note pinned to the steering wheel that reads: “I’ve been kidnapped by SHIELD, don’t worry, this is all part of the plan, I’m fine and will be back soon”
Well, that is decidedly not ideal, because at the moment I am being chased by the police, and I was really counting on Skye to drive me away. I can hear the police sirens somewhere in the distance. Shit, they’re getting closer . They will probably be here in only five minutes. Or ten. Or three. Honestly, I don’t really know I’m not great at calculating time. Either way, the police are getting close, and I really need to hide the van, because a very large purple van parked in the middle of an alley is conspicuous, and warrants a search, and I really can not afford the police searching the van.
Theoretically, I know how to drive. I’ve seen Skye do it, I know where the break and gas pedals are, and I know how to shift the gears.
I nod to myself. With my decision made, I jump into the driver’s seat. Very quickly, I learn that theoretically knowing how to do something and actually doing that thing are two very different concepts. Because of my lack of driving experience (God damnit why did I never ask Skye to actually teach me?) I have to go very slowly down the nearest side street. I am careful. If I wreck the van, Skye will be really pissed. As soon as the purple monstrosity that I call home is fully hidden from view of the main street, I struggle to put it in to park, then wait, hands clutching the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turn white and my green bracelet presses gently against the skin on my wrist.
Some time later (I don’t know exactly when because once again, I am very bad at calculating time), I hear the sirens move past me, and I let my body relax, hands slowly unfurling from the steering wheel. Oof, well, that was a close one. Stealing from a pharmacy in broad daylight was not one of my best ideas. Although, to be fair, I really didn’t expect the pharmacist to be in the back, having sex with a police man. That truly was one of the most awkward experiences ever, jamming a window open and hopping inside only to see the two men with their pants down, I truly was only able to grab what I needed because they took too long tripping over themselves trying to pull their pants up. Mark will probably be glad to know I survived, at any rate. Oh shit! Mark! I frantically pat my body, trying to find the bottle of meds that I practically risked my life for. My hand lands on a hard cylindrical shape that I then pull out of my pocket. Thank god it’s still there, or else all of that would have been for nothing.
With that, I decide that I should probably put the van back, I don’t want Skye to come back and worry that someone stole it. I look out the window to assess my situation. Damnit, this alley is really narrow. After a long arduous process, I am able to drive the van back to the street it was in before, and if there are a few new scratches in the paint, then Skye doesn’t need to know. I get out of the van and lock it behind me. It’s definitely not worth it to try to drive to Mark’s place, I would much rather walk.
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Mark owns a tattoo shop about ten blocks from here. It’s still daytime, meaning that it’s way too risky to fly there. I grab an old iPod that I found on the street and was able to bring back to life with my meager engineering skills, make sure that the bottle of pills is still safely in my pocket, and set out on a brisk walk.
Listening to music makes the time pass quickly, and it feels like I’ve arrived at the tattoo parlor in no time at all. Mark immediately spots me when I walk in, and he waves me to the back. I follow him into a room and close the door behind me. Mark turns to face me. He looks stressed, dark skin furrowed, and the bags under his eyes seem just a little bit bigger than they were last time I saw him.
“Were you able to get it?”
“Yeah” I pull out the bottle to show hime. Instead of relaxing, or looking relieved, Mark just tenses up more, and looks at the floor.
“Hey man, I know that we agreed on fifty bucks, but I only have forty” Well, that is slightly disappointing but definitely not the worst thing that could happen. Plus, I know that business hasn’t exactly been booming, and it’s not like I can’t get money elsewhere. His younger sister is sick and I can’t be picky about money. The exact amount of cash that I have is twelve cents that I found on the sidewalk when walking here.
“It’s no problem, Odette is a cute kid, she shouldn’t have to stay sick because of corporate greed” I smile at Mark. Finally, he exhales in relief and thanks me. I zip up the cash he gave me in my hoodie pocket and hand him the bottle. I start to head out the door when Mark stops me to thank me again.
“It’s no problem, we have to stick together right?” I give him another shaky smile, but inside I am seething. Any system that forces a large amount of its population to have to turn to crime to even have a chance of survival is extremely flawed and broken, and the people most affected by it, like me and Mark, don’t have a chance in hell of changing it, the only thing we can do is try to keep going, by any means necessary.
By the time I make my way back to the van, I am still mad. It is however dark enough now that the risk of me being caught if I go on a flight is much lower, and I really need to calm down. I drop the money in the glove box of the van and once again make sure that it is locked. I then step a good distance away from the van, unfurl my wings, and with a giant leap, take off.
I have had my wings ever since I can remember, but I am definitely not a mutant. I am a science experiment, I spent most of my formative years locked in a cage in some secret facility in Brazil, being prodded and poked and experimented on. I was one of the lucky ones, one of the “successful” experiments, most of the others just died, while the rest were killed off once they were no longer deemed useful. I only knew the passage of time by the different guards passing by my cage. I asked one how old I was once. I had heard one of the guards talking about how it was his son’s birthday, and I had become curious. He kicked me, and I thought that was going to be the end of it, but I think he felt bad for me, and told me that I was eleven years old.
A few weeks after that, I was finally let outside for the first time. It was overwhelming to say the least. I had seen pictures and videos of the outside, since the scientists had taught some of us more “promising” experiments (they probably didn’t want us to be too stupid), but I had never experienced it in person. There were so many sounds and smells and colours, and I wanted to explore it all. My wrists had been shackled, and the scientists probably thought that that was enough to deter me, but they had underestimated my strength, and I had seen the outside world now, I had no intention of going back in my cage. So I ran.
I was able to snap the shackles of my wrists, and with a desperation I had never known before, I sprinted through the forest. The dirt on my feet felt heavenly, I had never felt something so soft, but the debris on the forest floor ripped my soles to shreds. I remember reaching a waterfall, and deciding to just jump. I didn’t know if I would be able to fly, I had never tried before, but at that point I would have rather been dead than go back to the facility.
Flying was hard, the first time. It was awkward trying to maneuver my wings. I’d never had this much space to move around in, and my wings were weak and unable to support my weight very well.
That first flight was short. I had enough strength to make it to the ground with only a few cuts and bruises, but I could not fly further than that, at least not until I built up some strength.
After a few days of walking with no food, I had reached a small village. People had been suspicious of me, because it was such a small community, everyone knew each other, and a random kid showing up out of nowhere covered in cuts was weird. I remember the first day, asking someone for some food and being laughed at. I resorted to stealing to keep myself alive, but after a few weeks, I was caught and was forced to run away again.
I had run until I reached a port, and was able to sneak on to a cargo ship. I survived the journey by killing rats and eating them raw. It was horrible, and disgusting, and I was sick more than a few times, but it was the only way that I would live. The journey was long, and my advanced metabolism was working against me. I was lucky in that I was able to find an empty barrel and that it rained a lot, so water wasn’t a major issue.
By the time I finally reached shore, I was practically skeletal, and so weak that I was having a hard time walking. I was able to stumble off the ship and make my way to a side street. I was incredibly overwhelmed. Everything was too loud and bright, and I had only been outside for a few weeks, most of that time I spent on a cargo ship in the middle of the ocean, where there was barely anyone, and this new place I had found myself in was very busy, and I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying.
That was how Skye found me, slumped against an alley wall, practically just skin and bones, and wearing a ripped and dirt grey jumpsuit that was now much too big on me. She was only fifteen at the time, and she had just run away from a bad home. She had nothing to her name but a stolen van painted the most garish purple colour I had ever seen. (Although, to be fair, I hadn’t seen much colour before that time) Skye took pity on me, and was able to coax me to her van. She shared with me whatever she found to eat, and even with the language barrier, I started trusting her. Eventually, I learned english, and found out that I was surprisingly good at stealing, during my weeks in that little Brasilian village I had learned how to come off as unassuming. Plus, no one expected the little kid in a school uniform (something that I also stole) to be taking food from the store without paying, especially when that kid had had a shower and was no longer quite so skinny.
Eventually, I earned a bit of a reputation, and started stealing for other people in exchange for money. Nothing too big, and nothing from small businesses, but it helped to be able to buy almost enough food to keep up with my metabolism, and get a membership at the YMCA so that we were able to sake showers and clean ourselves somewhere more private than the public park. Which is how I ended up stealing a bottle of pills almost five years after Skye first found me. After all, it’s really hard to get an honest job when you legally don’t exist.
By the time I start heading back to the van, the sun is starting to rise, and I have been out for hours. I’ve come a long way from that first miserable flight, and can stay in the air for almost a full day before I tire. I touch down a street away from where I parked the van, then walk the rest of the way before practically catapulting myself inside. God I really need some sleep.
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When I wake up, the sun isn’t in the sky anymore, and I feel well rested. I check the date on one of the numerous computers that are in the van, and realize that I’ve slept for an entire day, which, honestly, makes sense; the last few days have been really busy for Skye in terms of Rising Tide activity, and I had stayed up helping her as much as possible. Skye still isn’t back, which hopefully doesn’t mean that she’s being tortured at a SHIELD blacksite somewhere. Actually, I should probably get some food, I haven’t eaten anything in two days, and Skye will probably be upset if I don’t eat anything the whole time she is gone. After my time on the cargo ship, I learned to ignore any signs my body is giving me that I’m hungry, which is really not good because if someone doesn’t remind me to eat, I won’t.
Anyway, there’s a Burger King near me, and I have forty dollars to spend. In the end I only take ten dollars, because two burgers will not be that expensive, and if I get mugged I don’t want to lose all my money. By the time I get back with the two cheapest burgers I could buy, the sun is finally starting to rise, and the van is gone.
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I stand there for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to do. If the van is gone, that means Skye probably took it, unless someone broke in and hotwired it, but that seems unlikely since there is no glass on the floor. And if Skye took the van without waiting for me, that means she’s probably still doing SHIELD stuff. I can find the van with no problems if I fly up and search for it, it does have a very distinctive colour after all; the only problem with that is that the day has just begun, and the sun is shining, I will definitely be noticed if I go flying now. I could also search the city on foot, I hate being idle, and I don’t want to have to wait until nightfall. Or, I could spend the day doing whatever, and just having fun before searching for the van. I like that last option the most, it’s been a while since I’ve had time to myself. Not that I’m complaining, I like helping Skye with her Rising Tide thing, but I do have other interests.
I had some art supplies in the van, but it’s gone now, and my money with it. Guess it’s time for some crime . I rub my hands together, I feel like an evil villain, I absolutely love planning “heists”. There’s an art supply store a few blocks away that’s part of a chain so I won’t feel too bad about stealing. I only need a watercolour kit, a pencil and maybe a pen either way, it's not like I’ll be stealing too much. Goddamnit stop feeling guilty over your criminal acts and just get it over with. With my inner voice egging me on, I make my way to the store.
When I get there, I grab a cart and try to act as not guilty as possible. My pants have very deep pockets, so it’s not hard to stuff a few small things in them. I add some random paint brushes and paints to my cart, then go to the check out. When the lady bagging my items asks for a card, I make a big show of looking very frantically through my pockets, and not finding anything.
“Aww man, I’m gonna have to come back another time I completely forgot my card. I’m so sorry for wasting your time” the lady just continues to look bored, so I wave goodbye, and walk out, stolen goods securely in my pockets. By the time I’m a good distance away, I realize that I’ve forgotten to buy an eraser, but it’s too late to go back now, It will be an interesting challenge to not be able to erase anything.
I’ve lived in this city for the past five years, so I know my way around fairly well. I also know where the libraries that will let me paint in them are some ways away, so instead of walking I take the public transit. It’s an easy thing to hop the turnstile, and I spend my trip listening to music that Skye pirated for me. I get to the library, and end up spending the whole day just listening to music and painting on the sketchbook I stuffed down the front of my pants to steal. Watercolour dries quickly, so you can’t work on one piece for too long, meaning that I fill almost half the book by the time the librarian tells me that the library is closing and I have to leave. It’s only 6pm, so I still have an hour or two before it gets completely dark. I go to the nearest movie theater, then wait for the guy who checks the tickets to switch with someone else, then I go in. When I try to pass through without a ticket, the guy stops me and asks me what I’m doing. Because of the fact that I’m short and have a higher voice, but have a masculine haircut and wear mostly masculine clothes, I can pass for a young boy sometimes. I lay on my accent very thickly, and tell the guy that I just went to the bathroom and my parents have my ticket. He lets me through with no problems. There seems to be horror, action and romance movies being shown right now, and I opt for the action movie. The plot is simple, but the action sequences are fun, and by the time the movie is over, it’s dark outside.
As soon as I am out of the theatre and in a secluded area, I fly up over the city and start my search. I end up finding the van very quickly, which for some reason was at the train station. I really hope this doesn’t mean that Skye abandoned me . I giggle to myself. I know she would never leave me, at least not without good reason. I check to see if anyone is nearby, then fly down to the van. The door is ripped off, and now I’m worried. I hope Skye’s okay. Right now, I’m too tired to worry. I locate the van door, put it back as securely as possible, then crawl under the pile of blankets at the back. I know that if anyone comes into the van, I will just look like a random pile of blankets.