Chapter 3: Chapter Three

The road the van follows is bumpy as hell. Which tells me all I need to know to keep being frightened.

Xoxia may be a boiling cesspit where the poor and depraved gather, ruled by corrupt vagabonds and riddled with wannabe Heroes and Villains, but it's anything if not strict with civilised infrastructure.

I'm not sure if the Mayor gets off on allocating huge funds towards repairing roads, constructing bridges and building dams but the city has it all.

Though, if I do think about it deeper, those funds could just be another excuse to embezzle more and more Federal credits, not that it matters in the end, the Villains, specifically Steve and his rivals, will keep wrecking the place with their gang wars.

Either way, the point remains that I am no longer in Xoxia. The city never leaves untarred or broken roads to get worse, certainly not this bad.

For half an hour of driving, I've been tossed between the metal doors of the van and the steaming bodies of the unreasonably cherry folk sardined with me.

It seems they still don't understand enough to be afraid. This entire thing is sketchy yet all they can prattle about as they barely keep themselves from flopping about each other as the van traverses the land, is how large their pay is going to be.

Not that I doubt that it would be large if this operation was even slightly legitimate. The Vertigo Gang has long since nestled itself as one of the four major gangs in the city rivalling for total control.

The territories Steve and T.V have managed to snatch continue to baffle me as their powers aren't really all that anyway, at least, not compared to the Lynx.

The Lynx leader possesses a rather terrifying power to transform into, you guessed it, a lynx, albeit a giant, ferocious one with strength beyond reasoning. The man-beasts lieutenant boastfully wields some sort of emission power.

I'm not sure what to call it other than blasting lasers out of his fingers.

Whereas Steve just makes people want to puke their guts out and T.V has X-ray vision. Neither are particularly cool or flashy powers but, I suppose in a brawl all that matters is immobilising your enemy.

And the urge to puke out your guts is as good a tool as any to achieve that, Lynx or laser firing creep be damned.

But, metas aside, the Gang can only maintain it's status for so long like this. I suppose that's why Steve has gather us metas with shitty powers.

Maybe he wants to make a new crew of expendables or sell us to an external, more widespread gang for protection and aid. I honestly wouldn't put it past the blubbery man.

Still, these are all speculations. The truth could be worse, I know he's desperate for a change, the gang has been losing territory to the other three, two of which have come to work together in some fashion.

I don't even need to be an official member to know that's bad news for Vertigo. Normal humans with pistols and rifles can only do so much against metas with proper powers, powers that most of the time render them invincible to a mere human.

My head is tossed about like a ragdoll as the van comes to a halting stop and I'm not the only one groaning in discomfort once things slightly settle down. The front door slams shut, and I hear voices, some shouting and even some rustling.

I guess the driver must have come down to see what's up.

The other schmucks and I stew in the van as we wait with bated breath, bated because there isn't much in the way of ventilation at the back of a van with eight people sardined together.

"What do you think is happening?" A woman asks, she's the only one whose been slightly sceptical about the nature of this 'job' the Veritgo Gang suddenly has in store for us less than mediocre metas

The man directly opposite to her snorts, he's been the naïve antagonist the whole ride here, "I've told you; I've done this kind of jobs before. Chances are we just need to carry out some crates or in a worst-case scenario, clean up after them when their done killing whoever it is they're here to kill."

"If that's the case then why don't they just say that?" She argues. And for the most part it is a firm argument. If it's something as simple as manual labour or clean ups, why not just say so?

"Besides," she continues, "I don't think they'll bring in children too for carrying crates and cleaning up corpses." As she says this, I can feel the stare of everyone else in the back land on me.

"I'm Fourteen, basically Fifteen and technically Sixteen. I'm an adult." I'm not sure why I bother arguing but the whelming feeling of indignation at being called a kid after all I've been through is rather hard to resist.

"You heard the kid." Antagonist says with perk. Still feeling chipper about his prospects, "Either way, none of it matters, they're going to be paying us far more than we could pull off on any of our jobs…if some of us even have any."

That's the driving force of this blinding ignorance. Financial insecurity. If any of them were even just a bit well-off, jumping into the back of a van and being driven to some far off, undisclosed location would ring alarm bells.

But desperation does things to a man.

The back doors swing open before anymore conversation can be had and we're once again greeted by lights, although the snow and the dim glowing moonlight provide only a little.

"Get out." The man at the door orders and sets himself to the side, moving off to mingle with T.V who's standing in the middle of the rather empty and barren snow-covered plains of rocky road.

As we file out of the van, jumping off the back, I keep my eyes trained on T.V. Chances are the man has a lot to dude with whatever Steve has in store.

"Line up, all of you." Another man barks loudly.

My set hears this and rather roughly gets in line.

My eyes are still on T.V, although the line of people more than a foot taller than me doesn't help my view. He's been looking forward, I can tell he's using his powers; he's got his sunglasses on.

Behind us is the source of all the smoke and noise that's been prevalent since we passed a certain point in our journey to…nowhere.

Undoubtably it's a factory, the smoke and sound of cogs and gears churning and chiming away will let anyone in on the fact. But it's certainly more than that if T.V is staring at it with his X-ray vision.

I catch a glance of Steve meeting up with him, I'm too far away to get the gist of anything they're saying but as soon as they're done, Steve has a smile plastered on that dirty mug of his.

"Alright folk!" He claps. "Gather around, neatly, make sure not to go past T.V over there." He chimes.

Like mindless drones, the temporary employees of the gang troop up together, organized as much as they can manage.

Shortie that I am, I'm pushed to the front with other people of similar stature, even that girl, Cynthia from before is on the first line with me; still chewing gum like an idiot though.

"Perfect!" Steve declares just as T.V approaches from behind, giving him a thumbs up. "Now, I'm sure you're all wondering what job I, Vertigo, have in store for you lot."

He huffs, his smile growing even wider as he thinks about it. He points at the factory behind us and heads turn to have a look, "That building has something we desperately want…and they know that we, as well as some thousand others want it, so it's guarded behind a fat load of security systems."

"None of which we can break through, given our powers." T.V chirps in, his sunglasses off. Which could either be a good or bad thing with him.

Sunglasses on, he's actively trying not to kill people with the extremely cell degenerating rays that his eyes produce when he uses his powers. If they're off, he's resigned not to use his powers or to turn your brain matter to mush.

You can never really tell with the long man.

Steve nods, nonetheless agreeing with his lieutenant, "Just as T.V said." He presents and open palm in which T.V deposits a remote with a single button on it.

Ah shit…what did they inject us with again?

"The drug we injected you with was a booster…a highly volatile booster for the meta-gene..." he shrugs, "Well, the speculated meta-gene. The point is that it works…a bit too well for us to take it."

Finally, it's begun to dawn on the fools around me what Steve was saying.

"What…what do you mean?" It's the sceptic, "You're going to…"

"Turn you into living weapons? Yes."

"I'll kill you!" Surprisingly, it's the man from before the antagonist. He bursts out charging ahead like a bull with a large rock in hand, it's purpose to smash Steve's head in.

Withing a second of his mad charge the man, as well as everyone else gathered doubles over.

Ugh, fucking Steve. Vertigo…

Fortunately for me, I've come under the mans powers many times and have enough of a resistance not to puke up my lunch immediately. The others however, do not.

"Steve!" I call out desperately.

The man directs his green glowing eyes to me, raising an eyebrow, "Hello? Do you have any questions child?"

"Why are you doing this?" I manage to pull out. "I've worked for you for years!" Anymore and I'll be endlessly puking.

With his head tilted he sneers, "Begrudgingly…plus, I'm getting tired of having Neil hum in my ears about that girl of yours. You're a meta, I think you'll do well here so why not add you to the bunch?"

I can't come up with anymore words, it's hard enough maintaining a sense of balance despite not even moving around.

"Now, T.V." the pudgy man orders.

T.V pulls out a gun and fires out to the factory. The exploding sound of a gun making the effects of Steve's powers even more unbearable.

The effect of his shot is plainly apparent though. The factory reacts. A large shimmering dome of light begins to descend at the same time the walls pop open with large turret guns, primed to fire at whatever moves.

Just before the dome covers us, Steve hits the button and I'm introduced to a world of sheer pain.