Super Avenged

If your parents have ever been unfair, then you can empathize with me. I just hope that your father has never been unfair to the extent that he plans on having you killed so he can create a robot that he believes is the idea of the millennium. And if this has happened, then we must be soul siblings or something, because that’s exactly what’s happening to me! It kind of gives you a whole new perspective on the meaning of “unfair”, doesn’t it? It’s really changed my mind about it, at least.

A couple of days after Christopher revealed his master plan to me, I sat in the cafeteria portion of the lab rats’ hangout. My elbow was braced against the table, and my cheek was resting uninterestedly in my palm. I picked at my food, which was something the server had claimed was meatloaf. It looked like cafeteria food from high school, only worse. I sighed and shoved my tray away. I didn’t have much of an appetite anyway. How could I, when I practically had a death sentence hanging above my head?

I barely paid attention when a female scientist sat across from me. She had honey blonde hair tied back in a neat bun at the base of her neck. Dark brown eyes peered out from behind her thick wire-rimmed glasses, and a pencil was tucked behind her ear. We ignored each other for a few minutes as she scooted the meatloaf around on her tray.

“So you must be Miya,” she said, looking up from her tray at me. I didn’t look up at her, though, and continued to study my nails.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“Mr. Kintsel’s daughter.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

The woman blinked. Obviously she was too smart to notice sarcasm. “Um...you’re welcome?”

I sighed and shook my head, finally looking up at her. “I was being sarcastic.”

“Oh...” she said softly, her eyes widening behind the glasses. I decided she might be pretty if she didn’t work for Christopher. And maybe if she wore her hair down instead of tied back in a bun. “I heard somewhere that you liked to draw,” she continued hastily, trying to cover up her mistake.

“Yep,” I agreed.

“Well, I figured that you might be bored, so I got you these,” she said. She put a sketchbook and pencil on the table and scooted it across to my side. I blinked at her, surprised. “Your last days are being spent in this bubble. You might as well entertain yourself.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking the sketchbook and pencil. I glanced at her one last time before grabbing my tray and rising to my feet to put the tray up.

((*****))

A gentle knock came on the door of my apartment that night. Wondering if it was Christopher coming to bother me, I reluctantly put my sketchbook down and walked towards the door. I looked through the wide-angle viewer to see the female scientist from lunch standing there. Furrowing my eyebrows together in confusion, I sank back on my heels and pulled open the door.

“Hello,” she greeted politely with a warm smile. She’d taken the lab coat off, leaving her in a sky blue blouse and a pair of snug blue jeans. She had also taken her hair out of its bun so that it hung over her shoulders in pretty waves. She hadn’t lost the glasses, though, but the ones she wore now weren’t so thick and were pink instead of wire-rimmed.

“Hi,” I replied. “I don’t mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?”

“I thought maybe you might want some company,” she answered hopefully. Her face fell slightly. “But if you want to be alone, I can leave.”

“No, it’s fine,” I found myself saying. She smiled again and I stepped back to let her into the apartment.

“I’m Andrea,” she told me, turning to face me as I closed the door. I nodded and walked back to the bed, where my sketchbook lay abandoned. I sank back into the pillow and began to draw again.

“I’m glad you’re getting use out of it,” Andrea said, perching herself on the end of my bed.

“It keeps my mind off of...things,” I said. We both knew what “things” meant.

“That pisses me off, you know,” Andrea burst out a few minutes later.

“What?” I asked, looking up at her.

“That Mr. Kintsel is going to use your brain,” she snapped. “It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong. He’s just using it because he’s mad you didn’t want to be in business.”

“How do you know so much about our relationship?” I asked curiously.

“I’m a marvelous eavesdropper,” Andrea answered sheepishly. “It really makes me mad. I wouldn’t have signed on for this project if I’d known what his plan was. It’s atrocious.”

“Indeed it is,” I agreed.

“Is it true that you’re dating Rev from Super Avenged?” Andrea whispered, leaning forward. I smiled sadly, remembering Jimmy. I really missed him. That I would never see him again made it even worse.

“Yes,” I answered. “Wait, how did you know that?”

“When people go to the surface for supplies, they bring back newspapers. I saw it in a gossip column,” Andrea answered with a nervous smile. “Do you think he’ll come save you?”

Jimmy’s last words to me rang in my ears:

“I’ll save you, Miya!” Jimmy screamed back. “I won’t let you get hurt, not anymore! I love you!”

“Maybe,” I said. “But I don’t know how he could do it.”

“He’s a superhero,” Andrea replied with a smile. “And Mr. Kintsel is the villain. Superheroes almost always beat the villain.”

“Only if the story has a happy ending,” I muttered, picking up my pencil to begin to sketch again. Andrea looked at me sadly for a few moments before patting my arm and rising to her feet. She let herself out of the apartment.

It felt nice to have at least one kindred spirit in this place.