"How... the hell..." Polarity said to herself, her voice barely a whisper. He's dead. He's dead. How the fuck is he not dead? Polarity herself would not yet receive an answer to this question, but she would have known, had she remained in Ottawa.
***
A few weeks after Stephen had arrived in Toronto, there was a special on the news. The special was run by quite a few affiliates in the country.
"...this double life was in fact, run in an extraordinarily secretive manner. We managed to secure interviews with most of young Ken's acquantances, but not one of them admitted any knowledge that Ken and the armoured vigilante known as Avenger, were in fact, one and the same. Not even the young woman closest to him," the television announced. The image changed to that of a teenaged girl... Alex.
"No... I never knew, he never told me..." she started to sob, her face red, tears in her eyes. "After all that good he had done... he couldn't even confide in me. Couldn't... even tell his own girlfriend... and... now... now he never can." The image changed back, Alex's face disappearing from the screen.
"Ken's life was a mystery, keeping secrets known not even by his friends... which leads to the question, why was he murdered? We tried to obtain an interview with Ken's closest friend, but the young man known as Steve Winters has not been spotted by anyone since the day of the murder. Without his help, it is hard to tell the extent of how possible it is that his murder was perpretrated by someone who Ken's heroic acts as Avenger might have hurt. It is unlikely..."
The special feature on Ken's death was around seven minutes long, and interrupted a normal bulletin to do so in the city of Ottawa; Stephen saw it from Toronto... but another person from Ottawa was also watching it. She stared at her television set... still amazed that she had found out much her boyfriend's life by a team of investigative journalists, rather from Ken himself. Weeks after his death, she still found herself crying.
And even more importantly... she found herself recalling a comment that Ken had made to her, not long before he died.
"Man, you wouldn't believe what shit I found that Steve had... you know that Magnet chick? Well, he's got her..." he started to tell her, but then stopped when he glanced at his watch. "Oh, shit! I'm really late, I gotta get to class. Seeya later!" Unfortunately, he never did get to keep the promise that he made in his last two words to Alex.
"It's gotta be him... that son of a bitch... had to have been Steven..." she found herself saying. Alex found herself connecting it all together... and in her grief-fuelled rage, it made perfect sense. Steve... if he was Magnet... then... of course. He killed Ken... killed him before he could tell anyone. That son of a bitch... I can't believe that son of a bitch killed Ken... she never stopped to wonder how Steve knew about Ken. She cried herself to sleep that night; much like she had done many, many times, in the last few weeks.
Two days later, she found herself standing in front of her locker. This wasn't an unusual occurence; after all, she did it every day. And then she looked at the nearby locker, one that the lock had been cut off, and currently wasn't in use. One that hadn't been used since Ken's murder, in fact. If, later, you ever asked Alex what the breaking point was, she'd say she wasn't able to tell you... but probably sometime around this point.
***
Alex walked down the street. The Ottawa sky had gone from its usual gray, and was now filled with snow, which wasn't particularly unusual for that time of the year. She looked around, but couldn't see much; a young boy, bundled up in ragged clothes, sat in a weathered box, in the alleyway beside her.
"Sorry!" The boy shouted to her.
"For fuck's sake..." Alex trudged along, down the street. Eventually, she stopped inside a building, a restaurant that she had been in many times. She took a seat; the same one as always, but the feeling quite different. This was the first time that she'd been inside it alone.
How fucking pathetic have I become? What the fuck has happened to me? she thought to herself. She ordered herself a sandwich and a beer. How the hell did one person manage to fuck me up this badly? How?
She was on her fourth drink when a familiar young man took a seat in front of her. She still hadn't touched her sandwich.
"Long time, no see," he said.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Alex snarled. She didn't recognise the voice, but she didn't need to; she'd never forget what Jake Powell's face looked like, not ever.
"Hey, man, I just thought I'd come talk to you... you know, after seeing all that shit about Ken on the news, I thought you might need someone to talk to," he said, cooly. Surprisingly enough, there was nothing but sincerity in his voice.
"Cut the bullshit, Powell, I'm in no mood for it."
"Hey now!" he put his arms down on the table, "This ain't bullshit. Man, I knew Ken... he was a good person." He said, thinking it would be encouraging.
It wasn't.
"Fuck you," she snapped at him. "He tried to kill you, I know you hated him. So just tell me what you want, so I can tell you to fuck off."
If Alex could have looked at it from any other perspective, she probably would have found it amusing that it was her that was angry and using the word "fuck" in every other sentence, while an important officer in a gang was acting civil. But, she couldn't.
"I had nothing personal against him, Alex. I'm not going to defend myself..." he said, trying to make a reassuring smile. "I mean... I shot you. I'm not going to make excuses, I should have gotten that jackass in front of you to move... I really screwed up there."
"What are you talking abo--" Alex started to demand, but trailed off, realizing that she wasn't going to get a satisfactory answer, anyway. When she got wounded by Powell's bullet, he had a straight shot at her, and Alex knew it full well. "Never mind."
"Look, what I'm trying to say is, sorry. I'm really sorry that I shot you, and I'm even more sorry that Ken had to get shot. I don't hold it against him, he thought I was just some murderous gang banger that we're overrun with," Jake sighed. Alex was still not at all convinced that his words were anything but bullshit. It'd take a fool or a madman to think otherwise.
He continued to talk.
"I know apologizing isn't going to make things better... but look, I can help you out, alright? You want to find the son of a bitch who killed him? I'll help you, man, it's the least I can do. I'm a pretty damn powerful man," he went on, arrogantly. "I can get you anything you need. Y'know... please, just let me know."
Alex paused for a moment, thinking about what he had to say, and picking her words carefully. Sanity prevailed in her response, using the same words she'd used several times before.
"Fuck you," Alex said angrily, fuming off angrily.
"Call me if you change your mind!" Jake shouted at her. Alex slammed the door shut behind her.
When she was gone, he shrugged to himself, and took her sandwich.
"Well, that went well... poor kid." Jake Powell said quietly to himself.
***
Alex sat on the side of her bed, silent. She'd woken up 20 minutes ago, but that was as far as she'd gotten. It'd been several days since she'd talked to Powell in the restaurant.
Maybe... maybe I could use his help after all, she thought to herself. Sure... he's trying to use me. He's a lying piece of shit, but... maybe I could trick him instead. Yeah... isn't that how Ken got the armour in the first place, tricking gang members? Fuck Powell... I'm sure I could just get rid of him when it's all over with.
She got up, and went to the bathroom.
"Yeah... sure, Powell. I'll accept your help," she laughed, talking to the mirror.
Oh, who the hell am I kidding... he knows what he's doing. He's fucking with me, and it's working. I mean, Ken beat the gang members he stole the armour from, and he beat Powell... could I?
She went back to bed; but she was pretty sure she already knew the answer to that question.
***
Alex looked down at her computer screen, a phone number and name listed on it. In her hand was her phone; she'd held it there for three minutes, still not calling yet. She'd been working herself up to calling the number all day, and had contemplated even doing it for many more days.
C'mon. I'm better than him. Fuck him, I can do it, she said to herself, taking a deep breathe. She dialed the number.
"Is... is Jake there?" she asked, quietly.
"Ah, Alex, you finally decided to call... good for you," was Powell's smooth response.
"Fuck you."
"And good evening to you too, Alex," he replied calmly, not missing a beat. "What can I help you with?"
"You..." she took another breathe, trying to stay composed. She knew that she'd screw up her chance of pulling anything off well if she didn't remain calm. "...you are going to help me find the son of a bitch who killed Ken."
"Darling... I'm well ahead of you. Steven Summers. I knew you'd ask... so I got some guys to check it out for you," he replied to her demand calmly.
"I already knew that..." her response had a slight hiss to it. "That's not what I wanted, though. You're going to find him for me. So I can bring the fucker to justice," she told him, angrily.
"I can do that."
"And for when you've found where he is... there's something else I want."
"Of course... what is it?"
"Avenger. I want the Avenger armour." she demanded quickly. Her heart rate quickened; she didn't know if he would actually listen to that demand of hers, but she had to try.
"I thought you'd never ask, dear." Apparently, he would. "If you can meet up with me near the police station... that armour-- and justice-- will be safely in your hands."
"I... thank you," she stammered. She certainly hadn't expected him to cave in instantly; she thought she would have to convince him to get her the armour. The thought that he'd just accept and agree so quickly to such a demand had never crossed her mind. "Is... how about tonight?"
"Tonight works just fine. I'll get the driver ready." he calmly replied.
***
I can't believe this is actually happening, Alex thought to herself. She was standing in a brightly lit garage, listening to what she could only assume was one of Jake's gang's mechanics (or engineers-- she wasn't quite sure what they were reffered to as) explain the workings of the Avenger armour to her. It'd at least a month, maybe two-- Alex wasn't sure-- after the armour had been stolen, salvaged in all the parts of it that they could find, from the police station. They'd been working on fixing it intensely, but the police had attempted to destroy the armour, to prevent it from being used again, so it'd taken a long time to repair it to a functional condition.
"...was part of the half that we managed to find..." the mechanic droned on to her, Alex only half paying attention.
The rest of garage was very quiet, and there wasn't a whole lot of movement; but it was still very easy to tell that it was rather busy. All sorts of large machines and mechanical bits, none identifiable by Alex, lay around the room. The only thing she had any clue to what it was, was the large armoured van that several people seemed to be working on; at the back, others were working at computers, but she couldn't tell what they were doing. She'd never seen so much junk lying around in one place, and if she thought she could get away with asking what the hell was going on, she would've.
Her attention was eventually drawn back to the armour again. It was just standing there, hanging by wires from the ceiling. Occasionally the mechanic would wave and put at it. To anyone who'd ever seen it when Ken wore it, it truly looked like a piece of shit.
Half the armour was gone entirely; it was missing proper legs, the right arm, and its wings. The worst part was that the mask part of the helmet was chipped and missing pieces; although it'd been in perfect condition when the police had it.
"Look," Alex finally cut in. "Just shut up. I really don't give a shit, okay? Just tell me how to use the fucking thing."
The mechanic looked rather pissed off at that, but fell silent anyway.
"Well!" Jake said rather loudly, with a huge grin. "You heard the lady... show her how to use it!"
The mechanic sighed. "Okay," he said, a slight touch of annoyance in his voice. "First, you might as well put it all on..."
It took Alex nearly ten minutes to put all the armour on. It felt heavy on her, even without the massive wings, and it made her more than a bit uncomfortable standing in it. Then she took a step forward in it, feeling the huge weight shift forward; and she was immediately distracted from the discomfort. Alex glanced down at the one arm that remained, looking through the broken mask, and she couldn't help but smile. She felt powerful!
So... this is it... this is amazing, she thought to herself. She didn't even conciously realize that she was still thinking about Steven.
"So... show me how to use it!" Alex told the mechanic, with command in her voice; she wasn't nervous any more, nor did she sound angry.
***
And finally, there she was, staring Ken's killer straight in the eyes. Over a year past his death, and at long last, she'd managed to track her down in person. Alex was finished with looking, finished with trying to scare her with written messages, finished with being disgusted at that monster still being alive. She couldn't help but laugh slightly at Polarity's confusion.
"Who the fuck are you?!" Polarity screamed at Alex. She still had no idea who was confronting her; only that whoever it was, frightened her.
"It's me, of course..." Alex replied, the armour's deep monotonous voice in a disturbing harmony with her own. She stepped towards Polarity, the makeshift boots of her armour clanging as she did.
Polarity was shaking profusely, but managed to back away. C'mon, she told herself, get it together. Get it to-fucking-gether!
"It's me," Alex said. And this time, there was no synthesized voice, no boom, no echo. Nothing but Alex's voice.
Polarity started to think, struggling to place the voice-- then she realized: it was her old friend, and Ken's girlfriend.
"Alex?!" she demanded, unable to even shiver.
"That's right," was the response, the armour's deep boom returning to her voice. Alex raised her arm, and Polarity then heard her commanding the armour; something she couldn't before it had been damaged by the police. "Computer, fire eight."
Bullets flew from her arm, and reflexively, Polarity blocked them, the line slowing and hitting the ground before reaching her.
"I'm justice," Alex started to say. She'd been preparing what she'd tell Stephen, before she killed him, for a long time now. To her, a very long time. "You destroyed..."
Polarity wasn't paying attention to her speech, though. She was shaking, trying to control her breathing, finally regaining her composure. She realized that her shorts were wet; but she had far greater concerns. That was the same armour that managed to take Jake Powell out, and he was far more capable than she was...
The next thing she knew, Alex had grabbed her by the shirt with her armoured hand, and had pulled her right close.
"Pay attention to me, you fucking piece of shit!" Alex yelled. "Computer..."
Polarity looked at the arm, where the gun was built in, and realized how close it was. She couldn't slow down bullets enough at that range. She let out a large magnetic burst from all over her body, and adrenaline took over.
By the time Alex said "fire," she'd already been knocked back. But she soon took aim again, and ordered, "Computer, change ammo, rubbet bullets. Fire! Fire five!"
Polarity was powerless to stop the six rubbet bullets; they hit her in the arm, and she screamed out in pain. She tried to think. If she could just knock Alex down, maybe she'd get a chance to run away. She tried to raise both her arms; if she were in any other condition, the pain from raising the arm she was shot in would have been overwhelming.
Polarity charged at Alex, who managed to fire another two rubber bullets before getting smashed into. Alex flew backwards as Polarity hit, and crashed through a glass store window behind her.
She looked around, and spotted a small car right near the store. She leapt to the other side of it, and bodychecked it, exerting as much magnetic push as she could against it. The car flew at the already broken store window, and crashed in.
Polarity ran, and ran, weaving through streets, alleys, and trying to stay as much out of sight as she could, her heart pounding faster than she'd thought possible. She'd been running for nearly ten minutes when it finally started to weigh on her what happened.
Oh my god... oh my god... what the fuck... what the fuck just happened?!
At long last, she arrived at her apartment, and didn't think she'd been followed. She ditched everything she was wearing, including all her clothes, on the roof of her apartment, and snuck in the window through the fire escape. She cleaned up, and bandaged her wounds, realizing that her arm was in fact, broken-- she didn't know what to do about that. And when she'd stopped the bleeding, she thought about what had just happened to her.
She cried through the night. For the first time in a year, she was genuinely scared, frightened out of her mind. She didn't know what she'd do about Alex; and she didn't know what else to do but cry.
***
By the time Alex regained consciousness, and got the car off of her, it was morning. He won't get away so easily the next time... she thought to herself, angrily.
***
Five days had passed since Stephen dared to leave the house, much to the alarm of his roommate. She'd tried to shrug it off; and when that failed, she loudly told him to fuck off, saying that her injuries and her reluctance to leave the house were part of something that he really shouldn't get into.
Jacob left Stephen alone after that.
Stephen wasn't just afraid of Alex finding her again-- although she still didn't know what she'd do about her, and she was still frightened of her. But her arm hurt, and her chest was swelling up. She couldn't help but wonder what would happen if her arm tried to heal itself, without the bone being set properly. She didn't know what would happen, but she certainly couldn't get any real medical attention, and after all the thinking about it that she'd done, she was rather scared of the possibilities.
It wasn't until the fifth day, though, that she got a call on her phone. Her new phone, that only one person knew of. She cleared her throat, making sure she got her voice at the right pitch.
"Hey, Polarity?"
"Yeah," she replied softly. "Right here."
"I got word just a couple of hours ago... about that person who was looking for you. Remember that?"
"Christ, do I ever. This had better be good," she told him.
"Apparently it's some chick from Ottawa in that armour. Came to us and was asking about you; way more politely this time. Wanted the Hunters to help us find you, and that some guy from who runs a gang in Ottawa could help us out of we did."
"Oh shit," she said to herself. She was about to ask who that guy could possibly be-- but she already had a hunch. The idea of the Hunters Pack being after her didn't bother her that much; it seemed inevitable anyway, and she had plans. "Are you going to help her?"
"Word in the ranks is, she's absolutely nuts. I haven't gotten any orders to co-operate, and I'd probably know." His words weren't particularly relieving. "Anyway, I got some other news, too. We're going to be advancing in--"
"Wait," she told him. She knew she wasn't going to be able to do anything with whatever information he was going to give... she wasn't in any condition to go out as Polarity. She didn't even dare leave her apartment. "Look, I really appreciate that you're helping me out, and all. But whatever you're going to say... I can't do anything right now."
"Why the fuck not?" he demanded. "I thought you wanted my help."
"I do. It's not that I don't appreciate it, a lot..." she sighed. Should she tell him?
Could it really hurt? she asked herself.
"It's not like there's--" she stopped. "Okay. You know that girl you were telling me about, that was looking for me?"
"Of course," he said, annoyed.
"She... I don't know how to deal with her. She... well, she kicked my ass," she told him, her eyes starting to water. "I've got a broken arm, and... fuck, I don't even know if it will heal. I'm just... I just can't go out as Polarity any time soon."
"Oh," he said. "Shit. That's not good."
"You don't say."
"And... hey, what do you mean, you don't know it'll heal?" he questioned. "What did the doctor say?"
"Doctor? You think I can afford to go to a hospital?"
"Guess not."
There was a pause.
"Okay..." he said, finally. "I think I can hook you up with a hospital. The Hunters've got one, East General, that certain ranking members can use. But... look, if I tell you how to get in, you'll promise, you're going to take out the Hunters when you heal?"
"I..." she said, trying to find words. She took a deep breath, calming herself. "I've been trying to take out those bastards for a while now. I'm not about to stop."
"...okay. Good enough for me," he slowly replied. "If you can pass for a man-- I mean, you don't need to look like me, they don't have thorough checks or anything. But if you can, I'll give you my number and shit, and you can just say you're me. They don't check pictures or cards or anything."
"Yeah," she said. "I can do that."
When he'd finished explaining how to get in, he said goodbye and hung up. Stephen just sat there, amazed.
Wow, she thought. It was somewhat comforting; at least she wasn't about to be disabled permanently by her broken arm, or die of an infection. A hospital. Wow.
She sighed. Now all she had to worry about was the crazed girl in the armour that was trying to kill her. Can I go out as Polarity with a broken arm? Probably not, she thought to herself. She sighed again. She knew she'd have to go back to school again soon, and keep going on with what she'd come to consider the least important part of her life.
"So..." she said quietly to herself, wiping her eyes dry. "What now? How the hell am I going to deal with her?"