Vigilance #1: Zach

It had been weeks since Max had moved in and I barely even saw the guy. He worked as a handyman all morning, slept for four hours in the afternoon, and Superhero’d all night. Which explained why he wasn’t in the best mood when I stood in his way, blocking his suit.
“Out of my way.”
I shook my head and pointed to a scattering of papers on his stained yellow mattress.
“Why do you have police files on Vigilant? Don’t tell me-”
He cut me off.

“None of your business.”
“It is too my business if my roommate is gonna go get himself killed!”
“Move.”

“Look. I get it. You’re a crazed vigilante. He’s a crazed vigilante. You wanna get rid of the competition, I can understand that. Thing is, you’re paying for my TV right now and I’d hate to be the guy who let Maximum get killed.”
“Why do you care?”
“That doesn’t even warrant an answer. Max just ask for help. Carlos can gi-”
He shoved his way past me, got in the suit, and left without a word. Great. Got my first roommate only to lose him in less than a month. I can’t believe the idiot was going after Vigilant. He was almost a ghost story. Fast enough to dodge machine gun fire, tough enough to take a beating from Bonecrusher, and strong enough to return the favor. That, compounded with his myriad of other powers made him extremely deadly.

His kill count was in the triple digits, a fact made even more impressive since he had been operating for only about a year. If Max was going after him…
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Max probably wouldn’t even find him. Vigilant was hard to find, and generally only got caught when he wanted it. I grabbed my costume, and started jogging to Third Street at a casual five thousand miles an hour. When I arrived, The secretary in an even more outrageously tight shirt ushered me into a waiting room filled with old magazines. I had barely even picked up my copy of Cooking Weekly before she came back in. “The boss wants to see you now”, she said in a sickly saccharine voice. I smiled, nodded, and followed her back out of the room. She led me into the same office I had been in before, except a large and black body bag looking thing hung from a coat rack in the corner. Jason nodded and passed an envelope to me.
Inside of it was a fancy invitation to a fundraiser held by the Mayor Simon Hitz. He was a greasy little guy, well known to be deep in the pocket of multiple gangs. I looked up at Jason and he said “Our good Mayor has some items I’d like to acquire. This ‘fundraiser’ is just a cover for an arms deal, and I want in. I’ve procured an invitation for you and my agent. He’ll do the talking, and when the Item is displayed your job is to steal it and bring it to me before the building locks down. Once you grab the item you’ll have exactly 0.012 seconds until military grade shielding will block every exit.”
He handed me a sketch of a ballroom with a large square in the center. On the letter most side of the square was a circle labeled TRGT. Radiating out from it were escape routes ranked by easiest to hardest. The shortest one was through a large window on the east side, forty feet from the target. What was that like, I smirked and said “That’s easy. I can sleepwalk faster than that. Anything worth mentioning?” He shook his head. “A few villains will be there, but no-one who can touch you. Should be a breeze.”
“Don’t say that.”
“What?”
“Should be. It NEVER is.”
He raised an eyebrow before pressing a button on his desk. Almost an instant later an old and horribly wrinkled indian woman entered the room. Jason gestured to her and said, “She’ll be in charge of cleaning you up. You leave in four hours.”

She smiled and pulled out a wicked looking pair of scissors.
I glanced up at my tangled dirty blonde mess and gulped.

This was going to hurt.

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