The Law of Averages

Book 2: Chapter 139: Good Sense

Book 2: Chapter 139: Good Sense

Dan woke up from blissful sleep, filled with purpose. He and Abby had spent a good week abusing his doorways and illegally vacationing in various tourist hotspots. He was finally rested, and ready to face reality. A reality, as it turned out, that was looking increasingly grim.

Despite pretty much everybody's expectations to the contrary, Galeforce was still active in the state of Texas. He stuck mostly to small towns and the outskirts of medium-sized cities, places where the local response would be delayed or nonexistent. His activities were restricted to smaller busts, so thus far he'd managed to stay mostly off the radar of anyone looking to put a bullet in him. More importantly, his continued existence and social media presence set an uncomfortable precedent. There were now three more vigilantes openly operating within state lines.

Blastburn was a fire mutate who'd made his debut in El Paso, interrupting a shootout between two rival gangs by immolating everyone involved. The pyromaniac had a social media page that consisted mostly of him setting things on fire, and had been spotted as far east as Odessa. He was the most destructive of the three vigilantes, and the closest to being labeled an outright villain. Of course, the difference was almost a meaningless one. So far as the law was concerned, the only difference between Blastburn and Cannibal was the amount of force required to bring them down.

Arbiter operated out of Houston. His abilities and motives were still unclear, but over the course of three days he'd managed to convince over a dozen criminals to turn themselves in for unsolved homicides. Each of his 'victims' had happily described Arbiter: a man who dressed an awful lot like Champion, who helped them see the light of their ways. That apparently scared the absolute shit out of whoever was running the HPD, and there was now an open warrant for the vigilante's arrest. He had no social media presence whatsoever, and thus far only his victims had even seen him in costume.

The final nuisance to appear was a kid who obviously intended to take up where Galeforce had left off. He dressed similarly, a bright, clean outfit and a big, garish cape. There was no symbol of the People, to Dan's immeasurable relief, but instead an enormous American flag. He called himself New Patriot, and he was a speedster. The lunatic was strafing east to west across the state, running from Dallas to Abilene along Interstate 20, advertising himself to anyone who cared to listen. He was the most infuriating of the bunch, because he'd yet to commit any serious crime. Every time he ran along the highway was technically a misdemeanor, but that only carried a small fine. The main issue was that he was incredibly open about his aspirations, and was rapidly gaining a media following of rabid fans, anxious for his first real outing.

Four vigilantes in a state as big as Texas didn't seem like much on the surface, but Dan had a bad feeling that things would only escalate. He needed to be ready. He'd been lax, lately. His portals were a fantastically flexible addition to his arsenal, but Dan hadn't really taken advantage of them in the way he knew he could. He planned to fix that over the course of the next few days, and it started right now.

He stood at the entrance of TAPP: The Apocalypse Prepper's Paradise. It was a country-wide company that had been in business since the late fifties. It sold exactly what was advertised, everything one might need in case of a sudden and violent apocalypse scenario. The company, once looked at with derision, was now seen as a completely mainstream shopping choice. Its motto summarized modern thought — Not Paranoia, Just Good Sense.

The building itself was designed to emulate a fallout shelter, and could be used like one in a pinch. Dan entered through a set of concrete stairs leading down into a flat, open space. It was well lit and packed with people moving in and out of the entrance. A simple wooden sign hung down from chains bolted into the ceiling, with the word TAPP on it. Concrete floor turned into white tile, demarcating where the store began. The entrance was filled with checkout counters, and various corridors branched off in every direction. Each was helpfully labeled, and a large map of the building was posted on a nearby wall. Dan glanced over it, then ambled off to shop.

TAPP sold everything, almost literally.

"Morphine?" Dan asked incredulously, as he hefted the tiny glass bottle. It was empty, but clearly labeled.

"Sure," the employee behind the counter labeled 'Pharmaceuticals' said. "We'll fill it if you've got the appropriate license."

Dan's wallet flicked into his hand, and he pulled out his crisis volunteer ID. "Will this work?"

The man looked it over, unholstered his handheld barcode scanner, and pulled the trigger.

Beep!

"That'll do," the employee said, holding out his hand for the bottle. Dan passed it over, and the man vanished into the back. Minutes later, he emerged with a full bottle. Dan paid the man, and dropped his bottle of morphine into t-space. He had no idea what he was going to do with it.

The whole point of coming to a place like this, was to stock up on options. Dan's hammerspace might be limited, but it was still being criminally under-utilized. He planned to stock it with emergency supplies, and a variety of random doodads that Dan figured might one day be useful. Everything else Dan bought would be thrown into his hidden basement, where he could easily access it with a portal.

Something important he'd learned while trailing Dunkirk was the importance of having a foundation for his initial portal. Without an object on hand, he'd be forced to use the floor, a nearby wall, or random debris. That was unreliable at best. Dan could do better. He bought a metal trash can, mostly for the lid, and some stiff poster board in several different sizes. He bought some sturdy steel chains, and a few cinderblocks. He bought several spools of monofilament fishing line, some Kevlar cord, zip-ties, a battery powered air pump, and a large towel, among other things.

All told, Dan left the store significantly poorer, and significantly more prepared.

He jumped home, and immediately went into the basement to set things up. Dan laid out his bounties on the shelves in a manner that made sense pretty much only to him. He would remember it though, which was the entire point. He swooped back upstairs, kissed Abby on the cheek, then appeared deep inside the forest beyond Red Creek Ranch.

Dan hadn't been here since his Academy days, where he'd performed a mock rescue drill alongside the rest of his tiny class. Still, it was thick, isolated woodlands, with nothing of note around for miles. It was a perfect place for Dan to test a few ideas, and confirm some suspicions. He glanced around his surroundings, then sent out his veil in a wide, searching web. He found nothing. He was alone.

Good.

Dan walked to a nearby tree and stabbed his veil into it. He pooled a small amount on the side opposite him, then thought better of it. He stepped back, looking for cover, and eventually found a much larger, thicker tree. Dan settled in behind it, then snaked his veil across the ground until it nearly reached its limit. He pooled what was left at the bottom of a far distant tree, and opened a portal the size of a penny.

To the bottom of the ocean.

Water lanced out from the doorway, tearing a gouge through the earth and punching a hole in the underbrush. There was the wooden clatter of broken vegetation, and Dan cut off the doorway. He emerged, hesitantly, from his cover, and walked to where he'd unleashed the ocean. The ground was soaked. There was a narrow trench in the ground that spanned almost twenty feet and drilled directly into the base of another tree. Any saplings that had been between the stream and its destination had been sheared away.

"Okay." Dan nodded to himself. "That's probably pretty dangerous."

He crouched beside the tree where his portal had originated, and felt around the base. There was no damage. There was no cracked wood. No sign of recoil whatsoever. That tracked, given how his portals worked, but it was startling to see it in person. His mind almost refused to comprehend it, so Dan came up with another test.

He summoned a quarter, gouged a narrow slot for it to sit on a nearby branch, and stuffed it in just snug enough to not fall. He snapped the end of the branch off, giving the quarter's face a clear shot at a nearby tree. Dan huddled back into his cover, before sending his veil out once more. He found the quarter, found the side facing his target, then opened a new doorway for all of a single second, just to be safe.

There was a hiss of water and a crack of splintering wood. Dan peeked out from behind his tree, and his eyes told him what his veil already knew. The quarter hadn't moved. The thick tree it faced had a round divot eroded into its trunk. Dan picked up his quarter, examined it, and found it completely unharmed. He tossed it back into t-space, then summoned one of the poster boards he'd just bought. It appeared in front of him, six feet tall and three wide. Dan considered it for a long moment, imagining just what he could do with such a thing.

"Better not," he decided.

His phone buzzed as he was setting up his next test. He checked the ID, and saw Gregoir's name.

"This is Dan," he said as he answered, carefully holding the phone away from his ears.

"Daniel!" Gregoir greeted. "How are you, my friend?"

"I'm alright," Dan replied. "Sorry that I've been absent this last week. Me and Abby needed a little vacation."

"Not at all," Gregoir reassured him. "Though, if you're picking up the phone again, I assume it's back to business for you?"

"Guess so," Dan acknowledged. "Why? You got something for me?"

"I do indeed!" Gregoir confirmed. "We've finally managed to identify that unpleasant fellow Galeforce was fighting back in the apartment complex. It's a bit of a delicate situation, and we could use a trusted go-between. Would you mind doing some courier work for the APD?"

"Sure," Dan agreed, more than happy for the work. "I'll be right there."