Peace gazed into the still water of the canal. It was brown and smelled, but compared to the smell coming from Peace himself, it was the lesser of two evils. He hadn’t had a wash since the night before the Change. It had rained on the previous day, but he was beginning to doubt the benefits of his natural shower.
His clothes were in a bad state and his hair was slick with grease. The bandages that wrapped around his arms were yellowed and torn. All in all, he looked like something the cat had dragged in from a minefield.
He stripped then unwound the bandages before climbing down metal rungs set into the stone into the water below. It was cold, but then Peace was numb to most sensations so it didn’t affect him much. He scrubbed at his skin and the bundle of clothes, splashing around noisily as he sang out of tune to himself.
These past two weeks had been the best of his life. The gray cloud that had hung over his soul for the past few years had faded. There were no expectations placed upon him and there was no stress about money or finding a career. He didn’t have to fake being nice to people and he didn’t have to do anything that he didn’t want. This was true freedom.
Lots of people had tried to attack him at first, but word of the black haired youth with wrapped up arms had spread quickly and people had learned to keep their distance from him. Now his life was simple. Pure survival was his only concern and that was almost too easy with his newfound strength and endurance.
Only a few minutes had passed when his bath was interrupted by nearby shouts. He tried to ignore them but they showed no signs of going away.
“Damn it!” he hissed angrily. “As fun as it is, I wanted five minutes without having to smash someone through a wall. Inconsiderate pricks.”
Peace grabbed one of the rungs and launched himself straight out of the water and onto the grass with a single movement. Not even thinking to dress, he stormed off in the direction of the voices. The commotion was coming from an adjacent bungalow where a group of men could be seen through the front window.
Peace kicked the door open. It flew off of its hinges and through several walls before exiting the building on the other side. The men all turned to see the intruder. Peace took in the scene before him. Six men stood around a seventh person with an assortment of makeshift weapons.
In stories, the character’s eyes, the narrator’s eyes and the reader’s eyes can all see very different things. What Peace saw was a long haired man in a dress stood in the centre. An effeminate man, sure, but a man none the less. As an omniscient presence, I can delve deeper into the scene and say that, despite what evidence her eyes suggested, this person fervently believes with her whole heart and soul that she is a woman. As I have stated before, personal belief usually supersedes universal fact, so who am I as a voice in your head to argue with her?
“Six against one doesn’t sound like very sporting odds,” Peace said into the tense quiet. “Unless I am the one. If you want to fight me then I’d call in some friends if I were you.”
“Stay out of this!” the woman growled determinedly. “This is my fight. I will not be pushed around any longer!” Her voice was not right either but Peace couldn’t quite put his finger on why.
Peace stared at her for a moment then shrugged and slumped into an over-stuffed armchair.
“Go ahead then. Put on a good show.”
In this time the men had not reacted. Two of them turned back to the woman while the others watched Peace cautiously. Having a naked man barge in on them then sit himself down to watch had not been a part of their expectations for how this scene was going to go down. Peace simply watched with an amused expression.
The woman gripped something tightly in her hand. Peace observed her curiously. Weapons didn’t do much good since the Change. He couldn’t see what it was but knives struggled to cut through human skin and blunt objects could barely make a bruise, let alone break bones. Whatever it was, it looked too small to do much of anything.
“This is our place now, freak,” spat one of the men.
He grabbed her shoulder and made to shove her. Her hand darted out into his ribs and there was a flash of light and a crackling sound. The man’s entire body convulsed and shook violently. He fell to the floor in a twitching heap.
This sparked events into action. All of the men jumped towards her. She jabbed out with the small object repeatedly, filling the room with flashes of light. The sheer number of opponents still overwhelmed her. She took several hits but kept fighting, using her nails and feet as well as the tiny weapon.
Peace was pretty impressed with the display. She had zero fighting skill but refused to go down. Without the device she would have been beaten quickly but with it she was actually winning. This just made Peace all the more curious.
The last man spasmed then fell. Covered in her own blood and panting, the woman staggered away from the pile of unconscious men and supported herself on a nearby table.
Peace appeared at her side. “Not bad, though it was over too quickly. Where’s the fun if you knock everyone out with a single jab?”
“Fun?” she muttered. “I was fighting for my life.”
“Yeah. Heart pounding, adrenaline flowing and everything on the line. That is how you feel! That is a real thrill.”
“You’re mental.”
Peace just grinned insanely at her.
She shook her head. “Who exactly are you?”
“Me? I’m a nobody. Peace is my name though.”
“Peace?”
“Yeah. Hippy parents. Named my sister Love. I think that I came off easy. Now it’s my turn to ask a question. What the hell did you do to them?”
The woman opened her hand and turned it toward Peace while keeping it far enough away from him that he couldn’t easily grab it. It was a small, black stungun.
“Hold up a second,” Peace began. “Electronics don’t work any more. Trust me, I tried. Life without music was unbearable until I discovered the sweet sounds of carnage. How can your stungun still be working?”
“Haven’t you noticed that people have developed more powers than just being really strong and fast?”
“Not really.”
“How are you still alive when you are this ignorant of what’s going on around you?”
Peace thought about this. “I punch things really hard until they leave me alone.”
The woman sighed. “Look, people can do things now that we never could before. I can make technology work. I don’t know how but it’s like any electronic that is touching me becomes a part of my body. I can control and power them. Our bodies are stronger now but they seem weak to electricity. I’m not sure why but electric shocks hit people really hard now.
“So let’s say that I find a phone with some good music on it…”
“It would only work in my hands. I can’t just get something working then hand it back.”
“Crap. So you’re useless.”
“Excuse me?” the woman exclaimed, affront in her voice. “Is that it? I can’t charge your bloody phone so you no longer care at all about me? You have no intention of even asking my name?”
“Nope.”
The woman’s face was becoming flushed with indignation.
“Well I’m going to tell you anyway! It’s Daisy! Remember it! I’ve found out humanity’s new weakness and have, to my knowledge, sole access to use it. I will not be pushed anymore!”
Peace ignored most of what she had said. He looked at her quizzically.
“Daisy?”
“That’s right. You got a problem with it?”
“No. Only, Daisy is a girl’s name and you kinda look and sound like a man. No offense.”
Daisy clenched her fist around the stungun. “Saying ‘no offense’ doesn’t make something not offensive. I am a woman locked away in a man’s body. Are you a bigoted jerk who is going to take issue with that?”
Peace shrugged again. “Not really. It’s just weird is all.”
“Weird? Coming from the guy with scars all across your arms. Self inflicted by the look of them. Cutting yourself up to feel. Attempted suicide too, right?”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right. I am pretty weird. You know what though, I see it as a badge of honour. I’m weird and I’m proud of it. My insanity keeps me sane and my pain brings relief. I am not normal and never want to be. To be normal is to be boring, to be part of the 99%. I am me and you are you and nobody can take that away from us.”
Daisy lowered the stungun and dropped onto a wooden stool. She didn’t know whether to punch Peace or hug him. She had spent the weeks since the Change hiding wherever she could. She had been homeless before the Change and had plenty of enemies for no other reason than what she was. She had escaped most but there were always people ready to lash out at that which they did not understand. This bungalow had only been her home for two days but now it looked time to move on.
“What’s your plan then, kid?” she asked him as she began to gather up supplies. “Got a family to go back to? A place to go?”
“I’m just wandering around. I checked out my house but it was empty. No idea where the folks could be,” he answered through a long yawn.
“Don’t you want to find them?”
“Nah. I’m enjoying this life. They’ll be fine without me. Or already dead. Either way means I’m good to just chill wherever. What about you?”
Daisy thought hard about her answer. Her general plan had never progressed beyond survive.
“I’ll find somewhere new to hole up in. It’s worked alright up to now.”
“It’s gonna be dark soon,” Peace observed. “You won’t have much time to look around. I have a shelter in the woods if you want somewhere to camp for the night.”
“Really?” Nobody had shown her any compassion since the Change. If she had a kind word thrown her way then that was a blessing but here was someone offering her a roof over her head and some company, if only for the night.
“I’d be grateful. I haven’t had a real conversation with anyone for months. Though I’d appreciate it more if you put some clothes on first.”
Peace offered her a grin. “Cool. I still have my phone on me. You get my amazing company and I get some music. Everybody’s happy.”
“God damn it…”
Matthew Roys 