Glimmer Girl #06 – “All that Glimmers” (Part 6)

Two hundred people were displaced during the InfiniTech incident. Their names sat cataloged on Theodore Fellow’s coffee table. He sifted through them in search of this ‘Glimmer Girl’, and matched profiles based on sex, skin tone, height, and build. So far the search bore no fruit.

The doctor collapsed onto the unmade bed. Within days of the phenomenon the adept made had her debut as a ‘hero’. The proximity of the events was more than coincidence. If the incident imbued another with extraordinary ability then it was his duty to know. More than that, he should own the power for himself.

Between liquid meals the doctor downed mugs of coffee. It did little to satiate the nagging in his belly, but kept him from becoming sluggish. With outside forces moving in there was little time for rest.

He considered the folders and the criteria of his chat. Were the subject able to alter her shape his search was in vain. Or the doctor was too discerning. Combing through the files again he searched for any sign of this Glimmer Girl, no matter how small.

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Glimmer Girl #05 – “All that Glimmers” (Part 5)

I’d decided. I had powers, and would use them for truth and justice. To do that there had to be a wrong to make right. The kind of injustice you punch doesn’t jump out waving a flag, so I had to go looking for it.

The beetle wasn’t built for city traffic, but Tanya made the effort. We scoured the backstreets for the better part of a Saturday, peeking into alleys. We found nothing save a few bad drivers.

I sat in the passenger seat with a hoodie pulled over my head. It worked in place of a costume, at least for the moment. I hoped the disguise read ‘female’.

“We’re going about this the wrong way,” Tanya said. She pulled to the curb.

The day before we pooled our cash to buy a police scanner. It was in good condition for its age, and offered new insight into the city. Nothing on the band called for the presence of a heroine who could fly.

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Glimmer Girl #04 – “All that Glimmers” (Part 4)

It was the best truck stop sandwich I’d ever eaten. The bread was stale, the lettuce wilted, and gods only knew the deal with the egg salad. But it was solid and kept me from shaking to pieces.

I sat in the corner of the Sheriff’s office and pulled the blanket they’d given me tight. Everything leading up to that point circled in my head. One moment I was at gunpoint, and the next I landed in a ditch. Between them were several hours and twenty miles into the next county. Nobody could explain why.

Tears pricked as I curled into my lap. Every part ached for the familiar; my own bed, and my family. Whatever that strange light it ripped them away and cast me into the unknown. Something greater than myself looked past where I stood. It blew the world into frightening proportion.

The Sheriff knocked on the glass and peered through the shudders. He overlooked my sobs, and cleared his throat. “Son, your parents are here.”

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