Chapter Four

I apolagize for any typos Xx CC

Chapter Four

Walking down the street, everything is quiet. The little flakes hit my hat and I pause and look around. The snow had started a few hours ago but that didn't stop me from wandering around. I don't get cold very easily, so I don't mind walking in the snow if anything I relish in the calm, quiet that falls over the city in this weather. Sitting down on a bus bench, I look out at the sky and it seems so foggy. A smile slides onto my face and I feel my phone buzzing.

"Hi T," I say happily.

"I see you have eaten, but, where are you?" She asks me confused.

"It's snowing," I say.

"Yes, and you should be here, where it's warm," she says.

"You know I don't get very cold," I say with a laugh.

"Where are you?"

"I'm not in some alleyway, I'm on the main road, watching the snowfall," I say.

"You've always had a thing for winter," she muses.

"Yes, it's just so much more peaceful."

"Please come home soon, it's getting late," T says, and I can hear her reheating dinner.

"I'll be home within the hour," I say, and we bid goodbye.

"Home," I say out loud to myself.

The word feels foreign on my tongue. I've been on the streets since I was thirteen, I think, so I haven't had a place to call home for a while. A lot of my memories from before I wound up in the hospital are patchy and blurry, even the reason why I ended up in the hospital is a blur.

Staring down the street again, I see a figure at the end of the road, standing in the middle of the empty intersection. I can see the appeal of standing there because no one is around, but it is still dangerous considering the visibility in this area isn't exactly the greatest. Glancing at the clock on my phone, I see that it almost ten o'clock and I shake my head at my behavior. Why am I such a nomad sometimes?

The crunching of boots in the snow catches my attention, but I don't lean forward. I sit back on the bench and put my phone away and keep my eyes set straight forward. The crunching comes much closer, and I tug my hat slightly lower. The person figure is visible through the semi-transparent bus shelter and I can figure out it is a man. Slowly the man walks past me, and he glances in my direction for a split second, but that is all I needed. That silver hair, it is the man that shot me.

Keeping my face neutral he continues to walk past, never once glancing back in my direction. His boots continue to crunch in the snow, and I don't move until I can't hear him anymore. Breathing a sigh of relief, something inside me becomes uneasy. Standing up quickly, I glance out of the shelter and see it is empty. I dart up the main road and cut back over towards the apartment complex. I am thankful when I am finally inside and back on the couch. T comes over and hands me a cookie and I give her a strange look.

"What? I can't splurge on some cookies?" She teases munching on her own.

"I'll never turn down a cookie," I say grabbing it from her happily.

Sweets are a luxury for me; I needed to save my pocket change to do laundry, not buy sugar. The cookie is soft and melts in my mouth slightly and I enjoy the gooey soft texture it has. I eat it very slowly and relish in the sweet flavors. Relaxing. T helps me turn the couch into my bed and we say goodnight.

Lying there, my mind is wide awake and racing as that uneasy feeling from earlier continues to eat at me. Of all of the places for that man to show up, he showed up on the street I stopped to rest on. His silver hair is etched into my memory, and a fire burns within me. I should have followed him, he's a murder, he would have killed two people if I wasn't me. I should have gone after him, but it is too late now. Rolling over I struggle to fall asleep.

T and I are up early the next morning, I am going to help her at the shelter this morning. She flicks on the news as we sit and eat cereal. A brutally destroyed building comes on and I am taken aback by the damage. Rather then it being burned by fire, it looks the hole front was smashed in, almost as if it was hit by a vehicle.

"This damage was done by one-man late last night; he is believed to be a metahuman with unmeasurable power. Here in this video, you can see him absorbing the metal of the light post and then using it to destroy the building. The camera never caught a glimpse of his face, but because of the snow the police do have his footprint," the lady rambles on.

A picture of the footprint pops up and I choke on my cereal. Looking at the pattern on the tread a shiver runs down my spine, images from last night flash through my mind and I can still see the silver hair man's boot prints in the snow as he walked past me.

"Zana, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," T says grabbing my bowl from me and putting it on the coffee table.

"I'm fine," I say, and she puts her bowl down.

"Spill," she orders me, and I give her a look.

"Please?"

"I saw a man last night while I was out wandering around in the snow, that had boots that created that same exact tread pattern," I admit, and T's eyes widen.

"And?" She pesters, knowing that there is more to this story.

"He was also the man that shot me," I admit and T's eyes narrow.

"So, you are saying that you know the description of the man that destroyed that building and stole that fancy metal?"

"What?

"He stole Pheasium from that building," T says, and I must have spaced out for that part.

"Well that can't be good," I say clueless to why that metal was any more important than aluminum.

"You don't realize the severity of the situation, do you?" T asks me, and I shake my head no. I wasn't very caught up on the science scene.

"The metal is unique and dangerous because it can mend its shape and form whilst maintaining its hardened structure, almost like a metallic rubber," T says, and a chill goes down my spine.

"Okay?"

"Pheasium also can't be detected by metal detectors because of its slightly organic property," T continues, and I wonder why she knows so much about it.

"Okay and you are badgering me about this because?" I ask confused.

"You know what this man looks like and the police don't Zana! You need to go and give them a description, so they know who to look for," she says seriously, and I laugh.

"I am not going to the police," I say shocked she would even suggest such a thing.

"Zana," she says sternly and my temper simmers.

"I can't go to the police T! I'm a runaway, the only reason I can even attend school is because you enrolled me, and the government never caught on. I can't go to the police and risk them realizing where I am supposed to be," I say furiously.

"I doubt they would notice,"

"I'm not taking any chances, I am not going back to that orphanage," I growl out and her eyes widen.

"Zana," she says softly.

"You don't know what it's like T! I can't go back, I won't go back, not for the sake of the police finding some thief. I am sure they will be able to catch him all by themselves," I say stepping away from her.

"Zana, you need to calm down," T says, and I resist the urge to snap at her.

"Can we just go? I have homework to do," I say bluntly, and she sighs before going to change. We walk in silence down to the shelter and I am thankful when I am finally in the kitchen cooking. The knife in my hand feels familiar and the rhythmic chopping helps soothe the anger and agitation I am feeling. I almost go into a trance cutting up all of the food and throwing it into the soup. Soup was easy to make for a lot of people and it also helped warm everyone considering how drafty this old warehouse can be. As I throw the last of the vegetables in, my trance is broken.

Thinking back to last night, my stomach churns violently and I can still see that unnervingly silver hair as it passed by me. I could have never imagined the damage that man was about to do even though I know exactly what he is capable of, he shot me point-blank in the chest without so much as a grimace. My hand tightens on the ladle as his red eyes burn into me.

What could I even do to stop a man like that? He can absorb metal, and that is why he stole the Pheasium. Something like that would enhance his abilities' tenfold with its elasticity. I wonder if the metal could potentially make him bulletproof. I don't know all of the properties of the metal but maybe if I had time, I could do some research next time I am in the library.

"Hi, Zana," Agnes's voice calls out and I smile.

"Hello,"

"I heard you moved in with T," she says coming over and hugging me.

"Yeah she's letting me crash on her couch," I say with a faint smile.

"She had always been smitten with you since the moment she met you, that's why she let you stay here so long," Agnes says, and I chuckle.

"I am very thankful for everything she has done for me," I say seriously.

"She seems a little tense, is everything alright?" She asks me quietly and I nod.

"It's been a little bit rough for both of us, trying to live with another person," I admit. I'm trying to be a good house guest but it's certainly proving to be more difficult then I imagined.

"Hang in there kiddo, living with someone is always a little rough at first, whether it is a college roommate, moving in with your partner, or just sharing an apartment with someone, it will take both of you some time to get used to it, but one day you will," she says softly and I smile.

"Thanks, Agnes," I say, and she chuckles.

"Get back to work why don't ya," she teases before walking away.

Agnes is probably in her seventies at this point, she retired in her sixties and volunteers at the shelter three days a week. She is an amazing woman and the only person I have ever been inspired to be like. She got her law degree and eventually got her masters while interning at a huge law firm. She spent the first twenty years of her career handling a lot of large, public cases before spending the rest of her time as a defense lawyer for victims of abuse.

I don't know if college will ever truly be in my cards, but if it is, I want to be just like her. I don't know if being a lawyer is my calling, but it has been something I've been thinking about more as my senior year approaches. I want to be able to help people, especially because so many people turned a blind eye to me so young. Blurry memories pop up and I try to ignore them as I usually do. I don't know what happened, but I do know that it is probably best if I just forget.

I help serve dinner to everyone tonight and I see a few familiar faces that I make quick chit chat with before continuing to serve everyone. It is strange to leave with T at the end of the night, and sleep elsewhere, even if the apartment is only four blocks away. The walk back is quiet again and I sigh.

"I'm sorry," I say as we continue.

"I'm sorry I pressured you like that, I know there is a lot in your past you haven't told me about and it didn't even dawn on me that they could have you taken away," she says quietly, and I link my arm with hers.

"I told you, I am home, nobody is taking me anywhere," I say as we walk into the old, rickety, building.