Free Blaze of Glory by Sheryl Nantus

Surf. I’m calling any supers who are still alive to come to Toronto, Canada to form a group to…” The cliché stuck in my throat. “I want to get us together to take on these invaders as a single, unified force away from the Agency. Away from the Guardians. Just us.” I glanced at my watch. “I’ll meet you at dusk here at the base of the CN Tower for the next three days. I’ll understand if you decide not to come.” A deep breath. “As my Guardian Mike would say…would have said—time to save the world, kids.”
    I snapped the connection, ripping the wires free. Then I sat atop one of the highest free-standing structures in the world, wondering if I could really see Buffalo in the darkness and New York City just beyond. And if I could fly there just on good thoughts and intentions.
    It was just before dawn when I settled on the ground in an alleyway not far from the bookstore, landing as much in the shadows as I could. At this time of the morning it was unlikely that anyone would see me, but I wasn’t about to take too many chances. I didn’t want to come out in the open, not just yet, and have people start asking questions that I couldn’t or wouldn’t answer. Of course I landed in a puddle of dirty water, soaking what had been a pretty decent pair of sneakers a day or so ago.
    “Hey, girlie…” The soft call snapped me around like a rubber band.
    A tall man moved out of the darkness, a knife waving back and forth in the dim moonlight. “Give me your wallet.”
    I smiled, pulling together the power and concentrating it into the palms of my gloves. “Sure…” The thin hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I reveled in the familiar feeling. “Come on closer and I’ll toss it to you…”

Chapter Six
    I resisted the urge to kick the unconscious man in the stomach just because I could. It really wasn’t the hero thing to do. Instead I rolled him onto his side, checked his breathing and emptied his pockets of about fifty dollars. My conscience didn’t give me much grief about taking the money. I still had no identification or cash, and while I wasn’t that worried about being stopped for ID, I was definitely going to need some cash in the future. Jessie and David could only do so much.
    Thankfully there was already some pedestrian traffic as I walked out onto Queen Street, looking as inconspicuous as possible. I had taken off my jacket and let my hair fly free. My gloves were stuffed back into my jacket pockets, giving me a bit more freedom with my hands but a little less ability to channel my power.
    A thick-set heavy man bumped into me as I strode along the sidewalk. “Sorry.” His words were slurred, though he didn’t smell of alcohol. “Sorry,” he repeated.
    “It’s okay.” I inwardly flinched as he lifted his hand towards my arm then dropped it again.
    “I’m tired.” He smiled at me, sending a shiver up my spine—the sort you get when you meet the neighborhood’s dirty old man at your open house. “I think I need to get a coffee.” A fat thumb jabbed towards the coffee shop. “Buy me a drink?”
    I put on my best “you’ve got to be kidding me” face. “Sorry, buddy, I’ve already got a breakfast date.”
    The short, overweight man leaned in closer, his undersized T-shirt exposing a few more inches of hairy skin than I was comfortable with. “I really think you should have a drink with me.”
    He stretched out a hand to a paper cup sitting haphazardly on the newspaper box next to us. It melted under his touch, curling into a small flaming pile of cardboard. He slapped it down with his hand, putting it out. “You wanna talk now?”
    The coffee was strong, some sort of Columbian brand that the shop was featuring in their daily push to caffeine addicts. The super took a deep swallow from his own mug, grimacing at the taste.
    “Crap. Should have gotten the espresso.” He put the mug down. “So you’re Surf.”
    I winced at the name. “Just call me Jo. I don’t