In Loving Memory of the Great Stan Lee
1922 - 2018
For showing us all that anyone can be a hero.
Excelsior.

It was raining. The heavy droplets washed away the dust and grime around the sidewalks of Queens. It upset some people when it rained. Everyone had a strong newfound attachment to dust and grime these days. I walked through the storm, the freezing water soaking through my hoodie and jeans, the numbing cold seeping into my bones, the occasional pellet of hail stinging wherever it hit. The houses around me were empty, at least, mostly so. The occasional family still lived in one or two. At least, what was left of the families. Those that were still here tried to get on with life. Most had to barter or scavenge for food. Some were lucky enough that their banks were working again. Not that money was worth much right now. Those were the kind of people who pretended to ignore what happened as best they could. But I knew they grieved. They all did. Some just more quietly then others.

Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance, the roll of thunder washing over the suburbs a few moments later. It was only a moment before the power flickered out, plunging the already dim streets into darkness. Not that anyone noticed. Power outages were a regular occurrence these days. I reached into the pocket of my jacket, and my cold, numb hands slipping on the metal device. I took it out, slipped it on under my hood, and pulled it down over my eyes. The goggles sat heavily on the bridge of my nose as I fumbled with the crude switch on the side. For a moment, nothing happened. A small voice in the back of my mind screamed to take them off before they electrocuted me, or worse. Then, with a faint, electronic buzz, the world around me burst to life, illuminated in vibrant shades of blue, purple and green. A glowing orange cat streaked across the sidewalk in front of me. The thermal goggles faltered occasionally, each time leaving me blind for a few seconds, and in those seconds I was nearly always terrified. These days, in this part of town, a few seconds could cost you your life. Thankfully, I hadn't been knifed in the stomach on the way to the ruins I called a home yet.

I scaled the fence of the abandoned construction site, and jumped over the concrete barrier on the lowest level of the unfinished car park. My landing made fresh footprints in the dust, adding them to the multitude I'd made whilst living here. I didn't know what, or more likely who the dust was. My best guess was the construction workers who were in the building the day it happened.

Nobody really knew why it happened, or what caused it. There were rumours of course. And a statement that had been released by the news, not that anyone in society was put together enough to watch it. Nobody really even new what 'it' was. The more religious called it Judgement Day. Some called it the Vanishing, others the Decimation. In a darkly humorous way, I liked to think of it as they day that basically the entire world literally bit the dust.

I'd barely gotten home from school when it happened. My mom was already starting to cook dinner, some curry recipe she'd found on the Internet. Her boyfriend Mike was doing work in his office, and his daughter Judy was studying for her midterms on the floor in the living room. I was in my room when I heard Judy scream. By the time I'd reached the bottom of the stairs, the three of them were grasping at each other in the hall, their bodies simply falling apart, disintegrating into dust, which floated in the air for a moment before settling on the faded brown carpet. My brain didn't know how to react at the time. I suppose it still doesn't entirely know how to react now. I just sat there, on the bottom stair, staring at the dust for hours until the sky outside was completely dark, hoping they would come back... But they didn't. And when it was finally dark, and those without ones to grieve realised what had happened, the riots began. There weren't enough police to stop it. Sure, half of the criminals had gone, but so had half of the law. New York, and subsequently Queens, was one of the first places to fall. And when it fell, it fell hard.

So I ran. And three weeks later, I ended up here.

The rain got heavier outside. It dropped from the half built ceiling, collecting in puddles on the concrete. I walked up the ramps of the car park, stopping when I reached the third level and sitting down on the pile of blankets, pillows and cushions I'd scavenged from the abandoned apartments surrounding the building. I would have brought a mattress, but they were all already taken. The power flickered back on outside, and the streetlights on the road partially illuminated the level of the car park. I slipped off the goggles, tossing them on the ground beside me.

I fiddled with the devices strapped around my hands, adjusting the positioning of the straps, which dug into my skin through the sleeves of my shirt. They didn't do much. Not compared to what I'd seen. Before the incident, Queens had Spider-Man. Some called him a menace, but I liked him. If I was honest with myself, I was kind of a Spiderman fanboy. I even met him once. He did what he could around the city, sticking up for the little guys, unlike the big league heroes upstate. He used to swing around the city on webs he shot from his wrists. People used to joke that those webs held the borough together. I suppose in a way they did, because everything fell apart when he disappeared.

I opened up the old ice cooler I used to house my stuff in, and pulled out a few pieces of wood, and an old newspaper. The front page ironically had a picture of Spiderman, the heading reading The Menace Behind the Mask. I made a small fire, and adjusted my device once more. I pressed the button on the side of my finger with my thumb, and electricity arced across the metal plates on my knuckles. I held it to the paper, and it ignited. Warmth from the fire seemed to scare the cold from my body as I huddled around it, the moisture from my clothes ever so slowly evaporating, leaving me steaming in the semi-darkness. I switched the device off, so I didn't accidentally taser myself.

I'd made them few days after I'd ran away. More as something to keep me occupied then anything else. I suppose it helped with the grief, to distract myself. The goggles were more out of necessity. They were made with parts I'd scavenged from what used to be a hunting store. Any chance of getting some kind of weapon was long gone by the time I got to it. All that was left was the imaging technology.

The fence around the construction site clanged and shook back on the ground. I froze, receding slightly into the shadows. Surely it was just an animal or something. But then it rang out again. And again. Indistinguishable yelling floated up the building. I swore, probably too loud for my own good, stomping out the fire, pushing the ice box into the darkness, where I quickly joined it.

Footsteps echoed up the ramp, shoes clacking against the concrete. Multiple pairs. I could hear rapid, panicked breathing as the first figure came up the ramp onto my level. I pulled on the goggles so I could see better through the gloom. A woman, from what I could make out through the imaging, ran up the ramp, glancing over her shoulder as she ascended to the next and final story. She disappeared above the ceiling. Classic horror movie mistake, running up to higher ground with no way down.

A howling, cackling laughter echoed from the ramp as two men stumbled up behind her. They looked drunk, even without closer details. One swayed unsteadily on his feet as he paused, catching himself. The other still seemed to have a half finished bottle of booze clasped in his hand. As the first guy stood up, I could see the cold blue of a knife blade against his orange silhouette.

"Come on, baby!" One of them called up the ramp, between a gargled mess of hiccups and deeply unsettling chuckles, "Just seems a waste, you know!" The other one burst into laughter at this.

I stayed still for a moment, rooted to the spot, wishing I could simply melt back into the concrete wall itself. I wanted to stay there. To pretend as if nothing happened. To wait until they left and to just restart my fire. But that was looking less like an option the more I thought about it. There was a chance that I could grab my stuff, at least some of it, and get out of here without them noticing. Or, on the other hand, if I stayed, there was the chance they'd find me when they were done... Doing whatever they were doing. Slowly, as quietly as I could, I picked myself up, pulled my hood up over my head, and began to pile things into the cooler. I froze as the woman screamed from one of the higher levels.

"This is a bad idea." I decided, straightening up. I began to move up the ramps towards them.

Water was still streaming down the smooth concrete surface, despite the fact the rain had lightened. The woman screamed again as I reached the top. One of the men, the one with the knife, had pinned her against the wall with his body. His free hand was clamped over her mouth.

"H-Hey!" I said, nervously into the damp air. They didn't hear me. It was probably light enough on up there on the roof that I didn't need the thermal goggles, but they gave me an odd feeling of courage. Like I was wearing a mask in order to hide my identity. "Hey!" I yelled again, louder this time.

The two men turned around, although one kept the woman pinned to the wall. "Back off kid!" The second man jeered. I didn't move. He turned to the woman. "Who's this? Your boyfriend? Your own little superhero?" She spat in his face, and he responded by punching her in the gut.

"Leave her alone!" I called back. My voice cracked on the last word, which probably made the whole thing far less intimidating.

The man with the knife jerked his head back at me, his face an indistinguishable blur of purples and oranges. "Phil, get rid of him." The man with the bottle, Phil, charged at me.

You would naturally think that I had the advantage, seeing as how he was drunk, but... No. Not exactly. Back in school I was usually the one getting punched. Never the less, I managed to dodge his first frantic swing. His second swing however, with the hand holding liquor bottle, smashed me across the back. I collapsed onto the concrete, pieces of glass imbedded in my back, the alcohol stinging in the cuts. I rolled over, quickly realising my mistake, screaming as the shards dug their way deeper into my flesh. Phil kicked at my ribs while I was down, knocking the remaining wind out of my lungs. He kicked at me again, and I managed to dodge the brunt of it as I scrambled back to my feet. Phil dove at me again, but this time I was faster. I pressed the button on my glove, and slammed my now electrified fist into his chest. Phil stumbled backwards, violently vomited onto his shirt, and collapsed unconscious, his body jerking as it dealt with the surge of electricity.

The first man tore his head away from kissing the woman's neck for a second. "What the fu-" The woman kicked him in the shin, pushing him off. She had some rather choice worlds for him as she tried to escape. "Get over here..." His words slurred as he yelled, lunging after her. The blade of his knife sunk into her calf, sending her crashing to the ground with a scream of pain. The thug pulled himself up, and began to advance on me.

"I bet you think your a real hero, don't you kid?" He muttered. I staggered upwards, and stepped towards him, raising my fists in an attempt at a fighting stance. Both my fists had sparks arcing from them now. "A right little Avenger there, aren't you. But here's a news flash for you." He swung out at me with the knife, knocking my forearm as I dove out of the way, "The Avengers? They're gone now." He threw himself at me. I screamed, the blade slicing across my chest, fresh, warm blood soaking into my sweatshirt. My arms flailed out rather pathetically as crashed into me, and ultimately did nothing. He managed to get back on his feet, leaving me bleeding on the ground. He lowered the knife towards my neck, and I closed my eyes. At least I wasn't loosing much..."

"Oi! You little-"

I opened my eyes. A stone flew through the air and hit him in the back of the head. In his moment of distraction, I threw my body weight forwards and punched him in the gut, his body shaking from the taser.

The woman and I lay there on rooftop, about ten feet apart, panting. I pushed myself up, my head spinning, and stumbled over to her. She jerked backwards as I approached, blood seeping from her leg. "Hey, hey it's okay." I stammered, pulling off the goggles. In the light I could see she was younger then I first thought. Maybe around my age, fourteen or fifteen. Her hair was pinned to her pained face by the rain.

"What do you want?" She asked quietly.

"To get out of here..." I shrugged, which hurt, the pieces of glass digging themselves into my shoulders. "W-we have to leave before they, you know, wake up. Can you walk?" The girl tried to push herself up, and her leg gave out. I slipped an arm under her shoulder and grunted as hers rested on mine, pressing bits of glass deeper. Together we shambled down the ramp to wards my makeshift camp. By the time we got there I was leaning on her for support more then she was leaning on me.

"Grab... What... You can." I grunted. Stars were beginning to dance in through my vision. She dropped to her knees, and began piling blankets and small bits of scrap electronics into her backpack.

I slouched against the wall, the world around me blurring. She shook my shoulder. "Hey, stay with me hero. Is there... Is there anywhere nearby we can hide?"

"Convenience Store." I groaned, pointing weakly in the direction opposite us. The girl draped her arm over my shoulder, and, re-alerted by the pain, we made our way out of the car park, through a hole in the fence, and towards an abandoned convenience store on the other side of the street. We pushed inside the unlocked door and made it behind the cash register before we both collapsed. My vision swam. If the girl was talking, I couldn't understand her.

It was daylight by the time I'd woken up. The sun was shining through the broken glass storefront, and the shadows of empty shelves stretched across the ground.. I shivered on the cold tiled floor, and went to pull my hoodie closer to my body. My hand tried grasping at my bare skin for a moment before I realised what was going on. I sat up, groggily, my shoulders and chest stinging from the movement. I was covered in blood stained bandages, some of which seemed to be made from torn up t-shirts.

"You're awake."

I jumped at the sound of the girls voice. I blinked a few times until her form became distinguishable from the shadows she was curled up in. The girl from the night before pushed herself along the floor, coming to a stop and resting against the wall beside me. She blew a strand of blond hair out of her heart shaped face. She was kind of cute. I blushed at the thought, and looked away.

"For a minute I thought you'd taken my stuff and left me." I tried for a charming smile, but it ended as a grimace. Charming smiles weren't really my thing anyway.

She smiled nervously. "Well, I was going to, but I mean... I can't really walk anywhere. And I kind of owed you one, seeing as you, you know, saved me from those guys."

I could feel my ears burning. "Thanks. I-I mean, no problem, it was nothing. Really. You saved me, really, and I-I just..." I paused for a moment, scrambling for something to say. "I'm Neil, by the way." I extended my hand, realised I still had the device on it, took it off, and extended it again.

The girl shook it. "I'm Alice," She smiled. We seemed to hold hands for a fraction too long, and we both quickly let go, staring awkwardly at the floor. "So, why did you try and save me? No offence but you clearly couldn't take them in a fight."

I didn't really have an answer. "Because... I don't know. I guess it seemed like the right thing to do? I guess that sounds pretty stupid, huh?"

"It was pretty brave." She amended. "Brave and stupid. But... Thanks." She cleared her throat. "Those are uh, some nifty doohickeys there, huh?"

"I uh... Yeah, I suppose so. They're just tasers on gloves, really." I shivered. Almost instantaneously, I became embarrassingly aware that I was half naked. "C-Can I uh... Can have my shirt? Please?"

Alice went pink in the face. "Oh! Yes of course, sorry." She squeaked, reaching over to her bag, and pulling out my shirt and hoodie, both of which were littered with holes and stained with blood. "I-I just thought I could try and, you know." She gestured at my bandages. "I'm not an expert or anything I just kind of took out most of the glass and covered the cut with bandages." She shrugged.

"Thanks." I winced as I pulled the clothes on over the bandages, the dressings moving against the cuts. It was silent for a painfully long time. "So do you, like, have to get back to somewhere?

Alice shook her head. "Nope." Her voice was tight. "Not anymore. Not after..."

"The thing?"

"Yeah, the thing. But what about you? Somewhere to go back to? Or are you off to do more hero-ing?"

"I'm not a hero." I muttered, trying to hide a smile.

"Well. You're my hero, at least." Sam elbowed my arm jokingly.

I looked over at her for a moment. "Well, what if we stuck together for a bit. If that's fine with you, of course. I mean, neither of us can really do much right now." I paused. "And you've kinda got all my stuff."

She considered the offer for a moment. "Sure." She said finally. "Let's stick together. I mean, I can't really walk yet. And, as you say, I've got all your stuff."

I smiled. That could have gone much worse. Alice pulled out a chunk of semi-stale bread from her backpack, and ripped off two pieces. She handed one to me. "And what do you suppose we do together, Neil?"

"Survive, I guess. I mean, I was mainly planning on just not dying."

"That is generally part of surviving, yes."

I smirked. "I guess it is."

"I guess we just wait and hope the world manages to sort itself out." Alice suggested.

"Or maybe even sort it out ourselves."

Alice chuckled. "Whatever you say, hero." She muttered through a mouthful of bread, "I mean, Queens is in need a new superhero right now. Now that we don't have the webs to hold us together."

I devoured my own chunk of bread. "Yeah." I remembered the red and blue blur swinging past the sidewalk. "I suppose it might..."