2.22

The three heroes were squeezed in the back seat. Gauzelle changed her shape slightly so they could fit more comfortably.

The interior of the cab was sleek with black leather and a screen at the back of each front seat headrest, playing the news. Soft velvet lined the inside of the doors and a sweet aroma filled the vehicle. The driver was wearing a fancy driving uniform and cap.

“Hey, how come your cab is red?” Silas asked.

“It isn’t now,” the driver replied. Silas pressed his head against the window to get a look at the car to see a rusted, beat up, silver car driving through the afternoon sun.

“What happened?” Silas asked. “Your car was red. A red cab.”

“A superhero taxi service. The car changes appearance to try and blend in so nobody suspects it’s a car full of superheroes.”

“Really? Wow.” Silas sat back in the seat. “Why hasn’t anyone told us about this before?”

“Is this free?” Gauzelle asked.

“Of course not. It’s a service ain’t it? Gotta make a living somehow.” A small glow around the driver’s face pulsed, showing she was smoking an e-cigarette.

“We’ve got no money,” said Hunter. The cab jerked to the side and screeched to a halt.

“May as well get out then,” the driver’s tone changed to gruff annoyance. She glared at the heroes through the rear-vision mirror.

“But we didn’t know this service even existed until we saw your car,” Gauzelle argued.

“That’s not my problem is it? Besides, the car clearly looked like a cab when you got in, didn’t you think this was something that had to be paid for?” The driver’s glare grew hot.

“Wait, wait wait. Can we get the fare charged to someone else?” Hunter asked.

“I s’pose you can. As long as their details are on our records then it can be arranged. Who do you want to charge this service to?”

“I reckon Stick would get really annoyed,” said Silas.

“Who cares? She’s our trainer. Do it,” said Gauzelle.

“Do you have Stick’s information on record?” Hunter asked. The driver tapped a few buttons on her display screen in the middle of the console.

“Nope.”

“She doesn’t seem like the type to use taxis,” said Silas.

“What about, Michael, Excelsior?” Hunter asked.

“Nope. You’re gonna need someone to charge this to soon otherwise I’m gonna ditch you’s.”

“You can’t do that,” said Silas.

“Your seats eject. I can do whatever I want.” The driver grinned at them in the mirror.

“Bulldog,” said Hunter. “He’d like to be driven around, make him feel like he’s important.”

“Yes, I have his information. Are you sure he’d approve?” The driver raised an eyebrow.

“He’s my uncle, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help family.”

“Good enough for me.” With that, the cab steered back into the traffic and continued toward Crooked Downs.

Upon arrival, the cab pulled up and the back doors opened on their own.

“Here you are, Crooked Downs. Do you want me to wait for you?” the driver asked.

“It wouldn’t really be safe would it?” Hunter asked.

“This baby has automatic defence systems built into it. I’d be fine. I’d slow down the charging rate for four minutes but then it’d go back to normal.”

“No, thanks. I think we’ll be fine from now on. If we ever need to use your service again, how do we do that?” Hunter asked.

“Oh, we’ve generally got a trained eye for that sort of thing. We’ll be around if you need us.”

“Any ideas on where to begin?” Silas asked.

“Don’t have the slightest clue. You?” Hunter asked Gauzelle.

“I reckon we look for criminal activity and we’ll probably come across Jimena.” Gauzelle suggested.

“Yeah, but we may come across Bulldog too,” Hunter objected.

“That’s a risk we’re going to have to take,” said Gauzelle.

“No, we aren’t.” Hunter narrowed his eyes and looked down the different streets.

“Then none of us have any ideas and this was a lot of fun,” said Gauzelle.

Something small and sharp struck the back of Hunter’s head. He turned around and saw an elderly man.

His pants were above his waist, held firmly by a pair of red suspenders. His plaid shirt hugged his bony shoulders, and he wore a slouched cap. He took aim with the second rock.

“We don’t need more of you costumed freaks. Your being here makes it worse for us.” He threw the rock with all of his might, but it went wide and skittered off.

“Hey, we’re here to help you all. That’s what heroes do.” Gauzelle stood there, pointing at the man.

“Bulldog says the same thing, and he’s the biggest larrikin there is. Why, if I was younger, I’d show him what for. Now get out of here before you make things worse.” The man shook his fist at the trio.

“Old coot, go home,” Gauzelle said, quietly. The old man continued to yell incoherently at them.

The group noticed someone approaching the man from behind. The person was holding a knife. Gauzelle unravelled herself and snaked to the person. She bound their legs and tripped the person over.

“What are you doing?” the person yelled.

“Stopping you from attacking that old man,” Gauzelle replied.

“That’s my grandfather. I was looking for him because he got out again, I’m here to bring him home.”

“Then why do you have a knife?” Gauzelle asked.

“To keep us safe. Crooked Downs isn’t the safest place in Athena City you know.” Gauzelle unwrapped herself from the ‘attacker’ and drifted back over to her teammates.

“That was awkward.”

“See? I told ye you no good around here. Don’t know what’s going on or what you’re getting into. We survive fine without the lot’a ye.” The old man and his family shuffled down one of the countless alleyways.

“You lot come across a bit stupid.” The three looked up to see Jimena was looking down at them from a fire escape balcony. Her arms were folded, and she was shaking her head.

“Nice to see you too Jimena,” said Hunter.