few days, and I have the lowest level of security clearance. I can’t possibly have any information someone would want. Barely anyone in the organization knows I exist! Oh god…would anyone even know to rescue me? Would Joy?
Bridgette sighs, interrupting my silent string of rapid-fire questions. “Well, when the Warriors do get here, just try not to freak out and scream. They know you’re here, so yelling will only distract them and attract attention. Okay?” Her vexation is palpable. I don’t know her deal, but it’s clear this is not her first rodeo. And she seems way less than thrilled about it.
I nod, but then realize she can’t see me and add, “Okay.” I want to be brave; I really do. Even if every inch of my insides is still shaking. Bridgette’s detached reassurance has soothed me some, though another wave of adrenaline is coursing through. I’m actually going to see the Warriors in action, I think. Some combination of heroes will be here, fighting for me, and I’ll get to witness every last wham, bam, and pow. Just like that day Blue Streak saved me. My heart races, but this time in anticipation.
I hear voices coming from some corner of the warehouse and crane my neck to find the source. A band of goons walks toward us as if in slow motion, confident in their villainy, but despite my extensive mental catalog of Warrior Nation foes, I don’t recognize a single one. There are three in total, each of them wearing suits covered in spikes, skulls, and other bad-guy clichés. Their getups look cheap, thrown together at the last minute, but that doesn’t make me any less terrified. Flexing their skills by shooting bolts of lightning in the air and punching a giant crack in a concrete wall, it’s clear this trio have superpowers, though they choose to use them for evil. You know, like villains do.
They laugh, circling us like vultures, making a river of sweat drip down my back. But I remember Bridgette’s instructions: Try not to scream. My fellow captive leans her head back against mine and makes the most exasperated sound I’ve ever heard from a human being.
“If they start monologuing, I swear to god…” She trails off.
That is the least of my concerns. As they approach, the one who assaulted me on the street looks me up and down like I’m a tasty treat, stopping just short of licking his lips. I try to hold my chin up and act cool, but I’m so terrified and have to squeeze every muscle to keep from peeing myself.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” says one of the masked men, a little too playfully for my taste. He leans in with rotten-egg breath, running a jagged fingernail along my jawline. I close my eyes and try to think of puppies and rainbows. “Boys, these new recruits are much better-looking than the last batch.”
Huh? New recruits? Is he talking about us? The cronies chuckle, nodding in agreement. Two of them disgustingly high-five each other.
“You ready to leave that hero bullcrap behind and team up with some real power?” another says in Bridgette’s direction.
“Don’t talk to me,” Bridgette spits. She has the confidence I wish I could muster up right now. Must come with experience.
But my captor ignores her, crouching down before me, touching my knees with his gross, gropey hands. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks me.
“Don’t tell them!” Bridgette quickly instructs.
I swallow hard. “I…I wasn’t going to.”
The creep looks past me. “C’mon, Bridgette, it’s no fun if your friend doesn’t play along.”
“Yes, because our life’s purpose is to bring you joy,” she replies.
“That’s the spirit!” he booms, missing her blatant sarcasm. He moves in closer to me, burying his nose in my hair, taking a deep inhale of conditioner. My bottom lip trembles as my eyes fill with tears; his hot breath on my neck is somehow more invasive than his paws on my thighs. I want to scream, to run, but my nerves freeze me in place, enacting the whole “play dead” survival tactic you’re supposed to use during a bear attack. Somehow I would prefer being eaten by a grizzly than prowled by this monster of a man.
“Don’t be afraid, girly,” he whispers, but thankfully the sound of a door opening distracts him from moving in much closer. My heart, which is already at maximum stress level, takes it up another notch, beating violently against my rib cage. Are my Warriors here?
No. In