Ora Et Labor: An Acceptance of Life: Chapter 2 – Prioritizations of the Common Man

Chapter 2 – Prioritizations of the Common Man

Today was another day at the office at my car mechanic shop. People come in with bullet holes from criminals or damage from fights between superhumans. It’s times like these that make me wish people came in for monotonous oil changes and for checks on battery or engine issues. Everyone wants to be a hero nowadays, and I can’t even blame them, given how many criminals and villains are out there and how readily available the surgery to become superhuman is. Thank God the Dominion provided insurance for these types of damage to cars and homes, and to car repair shops like mine, with easy access to affordable parts that should better withstand bullets and attacks from superhumans.

In the breakroom, my coworkers talk about how awesome it would be to be a vigilante or hero. Some of them relate how they work for a hero association and say it isn’t as awesome as it seems when your life is on the line, which I can relate to. We talk about the dangers of having our identities known by the public and that it’s better to keep them secret.

“Why should we worry when the Dominion is taking over every inch of the world?” one of my coworkers asks.

“Because criminals and villains don’t care. If you wrong them or they think you’re a target, they’ll go after you anyway,” I say.

“You’re too worried about things like that, Oliver. You shouldn’t be a hero if you let worries like that stop you from protecting others.”

I want to tell him that I’m a vigilante, but keep it secret. As always, I want to be as safe as possible. I’ve heard too many horror stories of amateur heroes and vigilantes being followed home and them and their families being killed in sadistic ways. From my first job, I go to my second to check in on how they’re handling the usury ring, and apparently, they’re doing it very well.

One of my coworkers says, “They’re taking it as a personal issue since many suffered from unfair debts. I’m not sure there’ll be much work to do tonight, unless you have any leads on where the usurers are hiding.”

All my leads are dead, so I decide not to clock in as a vigilante today. Instead, I go home, eat, and play video games with Jennifer. Lucas watches us, jumps in his chair, and giggles a lot as we play, and his eyes are glued to the screen with a smile on his face.

“Do you think he should play these older games when he grows up?” Jennifer asks.

“We grew up on them, so I don’t see why he shouldn’t,” I say. “Besides, playing harder games is a learning experience. Back when I was in school, I’d take a break from studying and school work to play games, so that I could go back to my school stuff with a fresh mind.”

“Is that how it was with you? Naps and exercise were the two things that got my mind back on track. Video games were a reward I kept myself from until all the work was done.”

“Everyone has their own way of doing things.”

“Yeah? Well, my way of doing things is carrying us through the game.”

“I’m just letting you do that so that you can have more fun.”

“Aw, you’re such a gentleman.”

The next day arrives, and I hear on the local news how the hero associations in the city are cracking down harder on crime than ever before because of the usury ring, and how people are coming in from nearby cities and towns to assist. I guess that means my work is even more challenging than I thought. Still, after work, I go to check out what’s happening and hear that the bugs are being smoked out from their hiding spots, as if it’s a good thing. It isn’t. This just means that the criminals and villains will be more desperate to escape or save their lives, which might include taking hostages. I patrol around my neighborhood and the houses of friends and family.

In my patrol, I see a group of shady people with hoods covering their faces and follow as silently as I can behind them. I hear one of them say in a whisper, “We have to hide for the night. It’s too dangerous to be out.”

“We don’t have any more reliable hideouts, and the others that we know about won’t let us in!” the other says.

“We go into one of these houses, hunker down, and make our plan for an escape.”

“But we’ll cause a scene!”

“We’ll be quick and quiet about it. What other choice do we have?”

“You can turn yourselves in,” I say with my pistol drawn and pointed at the two.

The two turn around and look at me with confusion and disgust as if they’re offended by what I’m doing.

“And who are you, upstart?”

“I’m the Cross, and you’re going to do what I say or else,” I say.

“Or else what?”

They take a step toward me, and I immediately shoot them twice in the chest each to no effect. They look at each other, smile, then at me.

“You don’t even have one of those special pistols to kill superhumans.”

“You’re a real amateur, aren’t you?”

I shoot them both in the face, again, to no effect. Now, they’re serious and see they’re about to move, so I roll out of the way expecting an attack. My guess is correct, as they shoot beams out of their eyes and burn my jacket. Running away, I call for backup while continuing to dodge their attacks and keep shooting to keep their attention. I try my best to draw them away from the residential area, but then they start to realize that I’m just stalling, so they start to run away. Chasing after them through the alleyways, I try to goad them into attacking me, but they shrug off my bullets.

“You’re not worth the effort, kid,” they say.

“Go bother someone else!”

Catching up to them, I dig my knife into one of their heads. I’ve got one of their attention at least, but the man I stabbed is really mad at me now, so I book it out of alleyways while narrowly dodging beams.

“You wanted to be a hero? Come on! Face me!”

“He’s just trying to get your attention! We’ll be dead if we chase him!”

“We can take him! He’s nothing!”

Seeing that he isn’t getting through to his friend, the other superhuman shoots his eye beams at me, and they both put more effort into trying to kill me. My shots are nothing more than noise I’m creating to get people’s attention; however, in times like these, where superhuman and vigilante fights are common, my gunshots are nothing more than the common noise of the city. Some people come to watch, while others are smart enough to stay away and hide in their homes or shelters. I’m out of ammo now, so my only hope for help is my distress signal from my phone and constant requests for backup. I can’t dodge much anymore, and I’m starting to get really tired as more of their beams just narrowly skim me. Struggling to get up, I just dodge around on the ground, barely getting anywhere as the superhumans laugh like predators playing with their prey.

“You’re in over your head, amateur!”

“It’s over for you now!”

Thankfully, their words are proven wrong as a group of superhumans and vigilantes who are better equipped than I am arrive and save my life. They swarm the two, disable them, and start questioning them to ask if they’re part of the usury ring. The two admit to it and ask for their lives to be spared, and are taken in by the arriving law enforcement.

One of the superhuman heroes helps me stand up. He says, “Go back home, son. You’re done for the day.”

“Yeah,” I say as I catch my breath. “I know.”

Limping back home, I say a prayer of thanksgiving. I stumble into my house, fall on the floor, and Jennifer rushes over to me.

“Oliver! Are you okay?! I need to call the hospital!” Jennifer says as she pulls out her phone.

“No. I’m fine. I just have a few scratches, bruises, and burns on me,” I say as I pull myself up.

Jennifer hugs me.

“Jennifer, really, I’m fine.”

She starts to cry as Lucas watches us from the kitchen in concern.

“I was so worried about you. I’m always worried about you when you go out there to protect the neighborhood. You shouldn’t push yourself too hard. You always do when you think something has to be done, and you volunteer to do it.”

“I’ll take a break for the week. The other heroes have the situation under control now.”

Going upstairs to change my clothes and take care of my wounds, I see for certain that I only have scratches, bruises, and minor burns, as I thought, which Jennifer takes care of. I get rid of my ruined outfit and change into something comfortable. I then eat dinner with my family and almost immediately pass out when we settle into the couch. In the morning, I wake up with my family in my arms, still sitting on the couch with a blanket over us. Since I’m still feeling the effects of yesterday, I call out sick, telling my boss that I got in a scuffle last night. He understands, knowing what my second job is, and keeps it a secret from my coworkers.

While eating breakfast, I get a call from the hero association I work with. The woman on the phone tells me that I’m getting a raise for my work yesterday. I am also getting upgrades to my kit thanks to the other heroes who told them how I was holding my own against two superhumans. I’m going to be granted a new gun with accompanying ammo and a new knife that are better used against superhumans. Additionally, I’ll be given a new hoodie, pants, and shoes that should give me some protection against superhuman attacks.

The woman on the phone says, “You should’ve requested this kit earlier. We would’ve provided it to you at no cost to you or hit to your paycheck.”

“I didn’t expect to be fighting superhumans the way I was, so I only got the kit for fighting normal people. I’m sorry,” I say.

“No worries. Thank you for your service. A courier will be delivering your package today.”

Sure enough, a superhuman courier knocks on the door, gives me my new kit, and leaves. Of course, I won’t be using it today or any other day this week, so I put it upstairs, but keep the new pistol and knife on me for today’s picnic at the park.

While eating at the park, I overhear a group of people talking about what happened last night. One of them says, “The noose is closing around the usury ring.”

“Yeah, especially with the Dominion coming here soon. That office of theirs should be done by now, and their heroes should be patrolling the streets,” the other person says.

As they talk, I don’t know why I want them to talk about what I did last night. I don’t work as a vigilante for fame. I do it to protect the people that I love, and my paycheck and seeing my wife and son happier are rewards enough for me, so I focus on that instead and enjoy our time together.