[TheFightingSpirit]

Incursion Eight: Bad Day, Good Day.

Robert slid the current order onto the hot plate and called, “Service.” A waiter rushed over to whisk the food away into the depths of the busy dining hall.

He grabbed the next order as if on autopilot, read it and clipped it onto a ‘current’ peg.

Even though he’d not been working at the restaurant for long, he knew the menu back to front, front to back. He guessed he could probably cook it in his sleep. So as he prepared the meal, he thought to himself.

He was honestly pretty bummed out. His friends took him for an idiot, for someone who couldn’t understand a damn thing.

I’m not insensitive… I’ve lived through plenty of attacks since the meteor shower.

He flipped the two burgers and chuckled.

You don’t have to be parentless, or homeless, or frickin’ shirtless to get the magnitude of the situation…

But maybe they had a point.

Robert had never asked for it, but they looked to him for leadership, he knew that. He didn’t want to accept it, but he saw it. Ken didn’t trust himself to break free of his sister’s shadow, but Allison? When Robert did something stupid, sure, she knew when to rein him in, but that wasn’t the same as leading.

He assembled the two plates—burgers and fries—directly in the service area and called for someone to deliver it to the customers.

He paused. The time had come to try something different. They didn’t need a red ranger who wanted to lighten the mood. The world was at war with a sentient plague.

They needed a man who was plain, simple and to the point. They needed a military man.

Robert felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He tapped another chef on the shoulder, apologised and made a break for it out back before the manager noticed.

“Hello?”

“Rob. It’s Allison.” An explosion sounded in the background. “We’ve got trouble on the UFL campus.”

“I’ll be right there.”

He hung up and glanced back through the door into the kitchen. He sighed, tore off his apron and threw it over the lid of the trade recycling bin, and ran.

It’s only a job...

o0o

When he arrived at the university, Robert noticed the panic first. Though he had nothing to go on, he felt certain that following the loudest noises would lead him to the others.

Sure enough, he found them on the football field already morphed and engaged in battle with No-one; the mutated, bandaged and blindfolded almost copy of General Bryant with an obsession for oblivion.

Finding a secluded spot, he morphed and dashed into the fray. He distracted the mutant with the hottest stream of flame he could muster

“Next time,” he yelled. “Go on a rampage after my shift ends. I’m so getting fired for this.”

He hesitated, imagining White Cross’ derision of his quip. No-one took the opening and slammed his bulging, oversized arm into Red Cross’ stomach.

He crumpled to the floor. It felt like being hit by a falling tree.

The rangers regrouped, and helped him to his feet.

“Point taken, Allison.” He readied himself for the next attack. “I’m not going to be that guy anymore. No more messing around.”

“That’s really not what I meant…”

“No. My mind’s made up. I’m all guts now.”

He stepped forward and swung his arms out to the side. “Iron advent!” His arms hardened, taking on the appearance of metal, and seemed to glint with unseen edge.

“Hit me with a wind, White.”

She was about to protest when realised what Red Cross was up to. She launched a whirlwind straight for him, hoping he knew what he was doing.

The wind picked him up and spun him until he was nothing more than blur of shining metal grey and red, a vortex of death. The tornado advent tore toward No-one. The mutant jumped from its path, but White Cross used her power to curl it back.

Robert’s blade arms sliced into No-one, rending flesh and bandage alike. The gauze fell from his regular sized arm to reveal bad scarring across the entirety of the back of his hand. His usual air of nonchalance broke and he frantically attempted to hide it.

This gave Blue Cross a chance to launch his own. “Flood Advent!” he roared, and a torrent of water gushed forth from his hands washing No-one off his legs.

He hit the grass with a dull whump and melted instantly into a pool of Black Water that seeped down into the soil.

The grass seemed to double in size in his wake.

Red Cross moved to demorph, but they’d drawn somewhat of a crowd. He didn’t know what he thought would happen, but there were no cheers, no clapping or whooping at their victory, only whispers and uncertainty.

“What crawled up their-“

“Let’s get out of here,” said White Cross.

o0o

Almost as soon as mobile phone footage of the battle on University grounds had leaked to the media via social media, General Bryant had called Lieutenant Moses in, and he didn’t sound happy.

Then again, he never did these days.

She skulked down the corridor in the Agency’s mountain HQ, saw his office door open and knocked as she entered.

General Bryant shot up, and pulled on his gloves. Catherine thought she’d just seen a glowing symbol on the back of his hand, but quickly shrugged it off. His skin was a lot paler than last she’d seen him.

“Lieutenant. You have some explaining to do.”

“If this is about the university…”

“It’s about your ranger’s tearing around a billion dollar campus and failing to put down the enemy. We can’t afford to look like fools.”

“But no one outside HQ can link the Cross Rangers to the Agency.”

“Someone soon will, Moses. The public aren’t stupid.” He slapped a crisp newspaper down on the desk. No doubt he’d had it pulled it fresh from the press before the story ran to the entirety of Steele City. “The media are already slating them for the damage they did to the football field.”

“What do you expect me to do? Tell them they can’t do their job?”

The General’s voice rose to a roar, ricocheting out into the corridor. “Keep them occupied and out of the way! Understand?” He choked on his anger for a second, before pushing onward regardless. “We have trained professionals on hand to deal with situations like these in a safe, and more importantly cost effective, manner.”

“But-“

“I hate the Black Water as much as the next,” he interrupted. “but if you don’t keep the rangers on a short leash, I’m going to be forced to cut the project loose.”

Catherine’s mind flashed back to the magi symbols she’d glimpsed—had he noticed? She wondered—and the continued appearance of the Black Cross in the city since they’d relocated. He’d been more than forthcoming with his hatred for the ‘untrained menace’ as he called them.

Did he want them out of the way so he, his fellow darkness clan member the Black Cross, and the Agency could claim all the glory? And what, if anything, did this have to do with his decreasing health after being engulfed by the Black Water?

In a way, she didn’t want to know—the longer the Cross Rangers could do their thing without interference, the better—but she suspected, in the end, she mightn’t have a choice.

A torrent of threats later, many painted in colourful language, he dismissed her and she headed straight for R&D. Now more than ever, she wanted to find the next magi.

o0o

The Rangers had gone straight back to the flat. Robert cooked diner out of sheer habit, and they ate in silence, before turning in for the night.

Had he surprised them with his decisiveness? In all honestly, he hadn’t felt any difference. Joking around, no joking around… as long as he got the job done, what was all the fuss about?

He could tell however that Allison was still miffed with him.

What good would his knowing suffering do? Did it help her get through the day? Robert would much rather attack from the high ground. Stay in high spirits that is. What helped him get through it all was a dogged, stubborn belief that they had the power to make a difference, no matter what.

Why else would they have been given such a chance?

There was a knock at the door but before anyone could answer a key slid in to the lock and there stood their new landlady. She marched straight over to Robert who was still in the kitchen washing up and slapped a contract down in front of him.

“Shape up, Lam. I can’t negotiate every time you get yourself fired.”

Almost as quick as she’d appeared, she disappeared back out the door.

A quiet, groggy voice came from the bedroom corridor. Allison followed. “Robert? Who was that?”

“Our landlady.”

“Landlady?”

“Yeah.”

Allison rolled her eyes and spun on her heels. She trudged straight back to her room.

Honestly, that summed it all up for Robert. It was difficult keeping track of everything they were supposed to be, so difficult in fact it encroached on the crux of the matter. They, as Rangers, existed to save people from evil. That was all, it, the one and the only.

He saw that now, and if General Bryant wanted to keep them on their toes with personnel changes then so be it.

o0o

Lt. Moses burst into the flat at eight in the morning the next day.

A groggy Robert stopped shuffling around the kitchen island, and set the milk down on the side. It took him a moment to realise who he was looking at.

He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Good morning, Catherine…”

“Robert, are the other’s awake?” she asked. “I have some great news.”

Ken and Allison stepped out of their bedrooms as if on cue. “We are now.”

“I stayed up late last night scouring through DNA records. It took a while but after matching it all against the electoral roll, I found him.” She grinned and held up a manila folder. “I actually found him, and you won’t believe who it is.”

“Really?”

They gathered in the kitchen and Catherine pulled a picture from the folder. She slapped it down with a flourish.

Robert’s mouth hung open. “And there’s no way you’re wrong?”

She folded her arms. “Not unless my father’s theories are wrong—did I mention he devoted his life to this?”

“Still…”

“Brad Reiter.” Ken blinked, rubbed his eyes and took a second look. “Brad is the next magi?!”