Beacon of Hope



Chapter Sixteen

DISCLAIMER :: This fanfiction is based on Superman from DC Comics. All rights reserved. Art by CWBlaine on Deviant Art.
Author's note: Perhaps it is the start of a new collaborative universe or a standalone project for myself. I don't know, yet.

Screams. Terrifying screams.

Initially, I thought it was all in my head. For the last bit of time–slightly over two weeks–I'd been on a crusade against AVS and ICE. Mostly, Lauren and I worked together to find locations of aircraft that had been contracted to shuttle both powered people and immigrants around the country and, eventually, out of it. I'd gone to Nevada, Arizona, Texas, Washington, New York, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Virginia, Florida, and the hub of it all: Louisiana. No less than thirty aircraft were now without engines, similar to the first in Seattle. I hadn't yet hit any detention facilities, but those were definitely my next goal. Needless to say, this had not made me any friends in the administration.

Lukas Lowen, CEO of OriVox Enterprises which was the parent company of American Vanguard Solutions, had finally shown his face as he made the rounds in the media. I got a good look at the man. Compared to interviewers, he seemed to be of average male height. His hair reminded me of Mark Zuckerberg, but ginger. His gray eyes seemed to reach into the soul in a disturbing way. His physique showed he knew what a gym was and he did not skip leg day. His cool, calm, collected demeanor seemed to melt away just a bit when anyone wanted to talk about "that girl in the blue suit with the red cape". He spoke about me with scorn and animosity, naming me AVS Priority One. I knew I'd eventually paint a target on my own back, but I didn't anticipate being so afraid. Lauren and I hadn't faked the death of Christopher Kent, as of yet, so my family could be a target if any connection was made to me. That scared me more than anything else.

My eyes slowly opened, awakened from the middle of sleep. Koda noticed I was awake and licked my face. I could still hear the screaming. I had thought it was a product of my dreams, but that wasn't the case. The sounds seemed to echo into my very soul. It was the type of scream no parent ever wants to hear: the terrified scream of a child fearing for their life. There was no need for coffee. I was immediately wide awake. I gently coaxed Koda away from me and moved to put on my suit. In moments, I zipped up the back and flipped the cape over my head. Careful not to break anything, I made my way to the back sliding glass door and let myself out. One jump into the air and I was off.

It was the middle of the night. It was pitch black. Rain was falling all around me. I was through the rain in a few seconds and the wind whipped through my wet hair and cape. Just before I might have been completely dry, I hit another wall of storms. The only thing lighting my way was the flashes of lightning all around me. The screams pushed me forward, ever faster. I had zero clue where I was going and I was only marginally looking out for air traffic besides myself.

At some point, I hit what simply felt like a wall of water in the sky. It was warm and wet and just coming down in sheets. All I knew was that I was getting closer to the screams. I had to search a bit to get a good bearing on where they were originating, but I zoomed in quickly. With the atmospheric flashes lighting the way occasionally, the only thing I knew for certain was that I was in some hilly area. The elevation was higher than most areas of the central plains of the country, but nothing to write home about. It was also full of rivers and tributary streams. They seemed to snake between the hills everywhere I looked. Something wasn't right, though. As I got closer to the screams, the water level was definitely too high for comfort and the current was dangerously fast.

I could hear the screams but I couldn't see anything. Hovering for a moment, lightning flashed and thunder cracked behind me as I took a breath, closed my eyes, and willed my vision to shift to something useful. When I opened them again, it was like a blue filter was in front of my eyes. The difference to when this happened before was that I wasn't seeing skeletons but heat signatures. Looking below me, I could see groups of these signatures huddled in what seemed to be rectangular structures of some kind. There was at least one line of people from one rectangle to a larger box structure and some signatures moving along the line. Still others seemed to be moving away at a fast pace. These heat signatures are where the screams were originating from. There was a flood and people were being carried down river as a result of that flood.

Acting quickly, I zipped over to the first signatures and dove after them. I was literally plucking them out of the river. After I scooped up the first two, it became obvious to me that I was pulling children out of the flood waters. They clung to me with all their strength and let out cries of desperation. I wasn't entirely sure what to do with them at first, but I looked back toward the larger groupings of heat signatures then flew towards them. I deposited the two children I'd plucked out of the river on higher ground near what sounded like adults. The kids couched water from their lungs and cried out to the adults. I turned and blasted off down the river to grab more.

Two by two, I pulled more children out of the raging river and delivered them to safety. Something deep inside drove me to keep going as long as I could. I was not slowing down at all. A few times, I actually had to dive into the water to rescue the victims. I even scooped up a couple of teenage girls that thanked me profusely. They seemed to be about the age I was now and told me they were counselors at a summer camp for girls. I was rescuing some of the youngest campers of said summer camp, they told me. I promised the counselors that I would not stop until all of the kids were safe. After dropping them off with the others, I kept going back to the river until all the heat signatures from the camp were safe.

Once I was sure there were no more campers in the river, I rushed to help where I could. That line I'd seen earlier was counselors and other camp staff trying to make sure other campers trapped in their cabins got out of those cabins and delivered to the higher ground of the larger building that might have been a cafeteria or indoor recreation hub. At the head of the line was an elderly man doing his best to get the kids to safety. He was apparently the owner of the camp. I assisted by carrying some of the kids up the hill myself and depositing them near the other kids I'd delivered. When that was done, I helped get the adults up the hill as well.

"Are you an angel?" The old man asked.

"No, I'm a friend." I replied before I took off again.

There were more screams. More terror. More lives to save.

Following the flow of the river, I searched for more signatures. There weren't just humans in the river, but a whole host of animals, too. Hundreds of them. The wild animals were easy. All I had to do was get them to higher ground and they scattered accordingly. The domesticated ones were the trouble. I did find a farm with good fencing higher up a hill, so I decided to gather them all there. I never counted how many I pulled out of the flood waters.

There were a lot of people caught in the flood zone. It was the middle of the night, after all. Most had been asleep. There were so many campgrounds to cover. As the waters kept rising, I was even hearing car horns in the river. Diving below the surface, I did the same thing as I had done with the bus back in Seattle: position my hands on the frame and lift the vehicle. After gingerly setting the vehicle out of harm's way, it was off to the next one. There were even RV's with whole families on board. As the waters surged, whole houses were being plucked off their foundations and swept downriver. I couldn't save the houses, but I could save the people inside them. I rescued more children from the flood waters, this time some boys from a camp further down river.

As the hours passed, I started to hear helicopters around me. I was happy to know I was no longer the only one out here. Slowly, the waters started to recede and the sun began to rise. Bridges were being revealed and so was the extent of the devastation. I would later learn that instruments used to measure just how high the waters rose had broken from the raw force of the deluge. Surveying the area, I found the staging area for rescue operations. Local sheriff's departments, fire departments both locally and from the surrounding areas, state disaster organizations, the US Coast Guard, and other federal agencies all responded for the humans. Several federal, state, and local animal welfare organizations had responded as well. It was very much an all-hands-on-deck situation and I was glad for it.

I finally discovered where I was: Texas. The search and rescue teams asked for a debrief after taking a single look at me. My hair, body, and suit were absolutely drenched. There were small bits of debris from the river clinging to parts of the suit, my hair, and my skin. I kept my descriptions short and to the point. I could still hear people calling out for help. Once the other teams were informed, we parted ways and I went back to work.

Whenever I would come in contact with a helicopter and there were people or animals in the area in need of rescue, I would signal to the pilot or crew how many were below them and where they were. It was a coordinated effort, now. All of us worked tirelessly through the day. Having pointed out where I'd been dropping off the pets and other domesticated animals, I was glad to see helicopters and other rescue vehicles from the appropriate organizations rallying to that position.

My last rescue was a little girl I'd somehow missed in the chaos. She was screaming out for help and clung to a tree for dear life. She was just as drenched as I was. My swooping in scared her at first, but she learned very quickly I was there to get her to safety. She nearly jumped into my arms, wrapped her arms around my neck, and her legs around my torso in much the same way she'd been clinging to the tree.

"It's okay, sweetie. You're gonna be okay, now." I told her in the best soothing voice I could. "Where were you before the river got you?"

Trembling from fear and the cold, her answer came slowly. "Camp Mystic. Are my friends okay?"

My heart sank. That was the first location I'd been to. I was sure I'd gotten everyone out of the river, but I was being proved wrong. "I don't know who your friends are. I can take you there to find out, though. I got a lot of you girls out of the river earlier."

She started to cry. "I want my mom."

Tears welling up in my eyes, I gently rubbed her back. "I bet you do. I would, too. It's been a very scary day." I started flying to the camp up river. "You're a very brave little girl. You must be a really strong swimmer, too. You got into that tree and stayed safe all this time. What's your name, sweetie?"

"Lila." She sniffled. "What's yours?"

For a moment, I hesitated. I didn't know how to answer, honestly. It might have been easy for Jenna to call herself "Feedback". Her only power I'd witnessed was a sonic force wave activated by screaming at a pitch similar to what might come out of a speaker if a microphone is pointed at it. Lauren had chosen "Veritas" as she sought the truth. The ancient Norse had named Týr and I have no idea why. However, names have meaning. They have a certain gravitas to them. I'd been mulling over what to call myself for a while. It had to be something that mattered as well as something that rolled off the tongue well. There was only one thing that kept returning to the forefront of my mind when considering the name.

"My name... isn't quite like yours." I began. "I'm Seraphim."

"Like the angels?"

I chuckled. "Sort of. More so the Jewish interpretation than the Christian one, though."

"You fly like an angel. You answer prayers like an angel. You save people like an angel. It's a good name."

"Well, I'm no angel, honey. I'm just as human as you. I just happen to have been given a few extra things that I use to help people."

Lila's grip tightened on me like a hug. "Today, you're my angel, then."

"I'll take that."

Getting back to the camp, the devastation I'd missed in the dark of night became very apparent. It was absolutely horrifying. Turning from that, I heard the low roar of diesel engines a bit further ahead. There were a few buses lined up from the local school district to get the campers into town to reunite with their families. Several faces lit up when I slowly landed with Lila still in my arms. Counselors ran to meet us and share their joy that she'd been found. With one last comforting back rub, I assured her she was now safe and set her down. She bounded off toward the other campers and counselors.

She told everyone my name. A chorus of girls screaming "Thank you, Seraphim" hit my ears to cap off a long day of rescues.

I stayed behind for a couple of days to do everything I could to aid in the recovery effort. In the days that followed, I would learn that twenty-seven people and a number of uncounted pets still perished that day. Each body recovered was more heart-wrenching than the last and they were all an emotional gut punch. I felt like a failure. In the chaos and darkness, I couldn't save everybody no matter how much I wished I had. Family members and pet owners watched me visibly break down and cry, mourning every single recovered body.

No matter how tortuous it was, I stayed until we were sure all that could be found were. I was in Texas for five days, barely eating or sleeping the entire time. Some of the first responders were starting to worry about me, but I would not relent until every victim was accounted for. While flying overhead, the use of my x-ray vision had proved invaluable in that effort. I patrolled every inch of the affected area from the source of the flooding, through the devastated area, and down to Canyon Lake. Finally, I was reassured there was nothing more I could do. I nodded, gave a quick wave, and flew home.

Back in Sheboygan, my mother was furious that I had seemingly disappeared in the dead of night. I didn't say a word. My body simply trudged up to her and I collapsed into sobs. She had seen the news. She knew where I had been. Instead of scolding me, she simply held me while I cried. Everything I'd been blocking out for days came rushing to the surface. I finally felt every emotion I'd been holding back. After a while, I told my mother everything I'd experienced through sobs. I doubt she understood a single word. I barely did. She simply held me, stroked my hair, and rocked me while sitting on the front steps of the house. The last time I remember being in a position like this was when I skinned my knee trying to learn to ride a bike when I was six.

When I finally stopped crying, she cradled my face in her hands and gently wiped away the tears. Her facial expression was one of gentle concern. She asked me to repeat the story once more. I tripped over sobs a couple more times as I explained what happened, but she was incredibly patient with me. Never did her expression shift. It was fairly calming and comforting in the moment. When I finished regaling my tale, she took in a breath.

"What you did by leavin' here like you did when you heard those screams was a good thing." She started off well enough. "You didn't think when you went off down dere. Dere would'a been lots more people not goin' home without you dere, by golly, I tells ya." She pulled me against her chest and cradled my head. "You put so much of yourself out dere."

"I know you did all ya could, honey. You been beatin' yourself up over what happened wit yer dad since he's been gone. You gots all dese powers, dat's true. You ain't all powerful, Kristen. God's got you beat on dat. You can't be everywhere at once or do everything at once. Ainna yer fault if people get hurt if you ain't dere, donchaknow. Yer only human, honey."

"I should'a been faster." I sniffled.

"Yeah, no, you shouldn'a. You was as fast as you could be. You gots a lot of people safe, honey. Dey was sayin' dat if not for you, dere would'a been more'n a hundred that passed. No, yeah, almost thirty people passed and dat's a shame, but nothin' you could'a done. You gotta stop blamin' yourself for things you can't control. Yer dad's wit God cuz he was called, baby. Dem people what passed are wit God cuz dat's how it goes, sometimes. Ainna yer fault, baby. I'm so proud of you for doin' what you did."

More tears rolled down my cheeks, but not sad or overwhelmed ones this time. "Thanks, Mom."

Placing a hand on the back of my head, she pulled me toward her and gently kissed my forehead. "Yer welcome, kid." She smiled at me while I pulled away. "Now, let's get ya inside. Ya need a shower and dat suit needs warshing. Ya both stink."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I'm very thankful that Hannah and Madison taught me how to navigate social media because my millennial butt was not all that good at it. Using the burner phone, I had created "lurker" accounts to simply monitor things. Trying to process what had happened in Texas by looking at news reports on the internet probably was not my best idea. However, I was looking for one submission in particular. In all my years of journalism, I had not really seen someone get such in depth coverage of events from their bedroom like I was seeing on the YouTube channel The Planet Daily.

As I've said before, it was a small channel that started out as a video log–or "vlog", as the kids call it–meant to process the lockdown and events of 2020. In the years following, it had grown to a meager twenty thousand subscribers. The girl running the channel seemed to really have an eye for journalism, even if she's never been in college. That's likely about to change given that she revealed her birthday is approaching in August on a recent video where she'll turn eighteen. I tried to glean as much information as I could before sending a message of any kind. Finding out she had an Instagram account helped my search. Somewhat trembling because I've always been on the side that does the interviews not the side that gets interviewed, I sent her a direct message.

She seemed rather excited, if my claim of being the girl in the cape was legitimate. She asked to meet so that I can prove the authenticity of my claim before she would agree to anything further. Respecting her skepticism, I agreed. Her chosen place to meet was a riddle. She wanted to meet at the birthplace of Superman at 2pm the day following our interaction. I had no idea what she was talking about and she did not elaborate. Even as a fan of comics, I actually had to do some digging to understand what she meant. According to online sources, there were two options: the childhood home of Jerry Siegel or Glenville High School. Both in Cleveland, Ohio.

Funny enough, the day of our appointed meeting was the same day that James Gunn's Superman officially released in theaters. Mom had long since washed the suit after everything it went through in Texas. Dr. Voss' genius in making sure the suit was machine washable had paid off in spades. Stepping into the suit and getting ready for the meeting, I was nervous. With the suit secured and cape flipped, I let Koda out to spend some time with Týr while I was gone. They both benefitted from the experience of time together. The trip to Cleveland was quicker than one might expect. If you don't have to drive, it's just on the other side of Lake Michigan from Sheboygan or Chicago. The hard part was locating the addresses I needed to.

Glenville High School was the first place I sought out. It was the place that the two men who would be the fathers of the incredibly famous Kryptonian met. The first address was the current location of the school. Built in 1966, it wasn't where they actually attended the school. Also, my quarry wasn't there. Next, I tried the old location of the school which had been a two-story brick building that actually had Siegel and Shuster in the halls. That wasn't the meeting location, either. The building had also been demolished a very long time ago and replaced with quiet family homes. No, my quarry had chosen the more obvious location: the still-standing childhood home of Jerome Siegel on Kimberly Avenue.

Sure enough, I had found our meeting location. On the sidewalk outside the house stood a teenager with a pink tank top, denim shorts, and flip-flops on her feet. Over her shoulder, she had draped a satchel that looked to be quite a few years older than she was. Her dark brown hair was twisted into a loose braid and draped over her shoulder. I slowly maneuvered myself downward before calling out to her while still somewhat airborne.

"Miss Lane?" I asked the young woman.

She spun around to meet my eyes. Her gray eyes seemed to reach directly into my soul. "Oh, so you weren't kidding." She leaned against the fence with the red upside-down triangle with an "S" inside. On the opposite fence was a similar triangle filled with information about Jerry Siegel engraved on the surface. "Part of me was skeptical you'd even show up, if I'm being honest."

"Why would you think that?"

"My channel is tiny. Only twenty-K followers. I guess my first question is: why me? I'm sure you've gotten plenty of invitations for interviews recently."

Shrugging, I lowered myself to the ground and finally landed. "Why not? It's clear you've got a nose for journalism, even without having studied communications in college. Your subscriber count might be small compared to other voices on the platform, but even the smallest voice echoes into the void. People hear it." Approaching the sidewalk, I noticed that she was almost a full head shorter than I. My eyes wandered to the iconic house with little bits of Superman memorabilia all over.

"How would you know that much about journalism? You're about the same age as me, I think. Right?"

Slowly, I shook my head. "I might look this way, now, but I'm much older in reality." I let out a sigh and met her eyes again. "Do you now believe that I am whom I claimed to be in our messages?"

She raised an eyebrow at me. "I run on proof. How much older are you?"

"A truth seeker." I smirked. "Mid-forties. Old enough to have three kids and a spouse. My oldest just graduated high school."

"How?"

I shrugged. "Whatever that pulse thing was back in April. It's changed a lot of people, including me. I guess I'm just the most high profile?"

"Got me there. You are the flashy one, I'll give you that. I'm aware of people operating in Seattle, Los Angeles, and New York, so far. The one in New York is more conjecture, but I think she may be legit."

"Based on the previous reporting on your channel, I've no doubt you'll get to the bottom of it. I can confirm the one in Seattle calls herself 'Feedback'. I've met her. I know the one from Los Angeles personally as well. I can't speak to the one in New York."

"Yeah? You can confirm, huh? And what's the name you're going with?"

"Seraphim. I'd like to think of it as an answer to a prayer a poor Jewish woman made for her daughter in 1940, who also happens to be my great-grandmother. I hope to live up to that prayer."

"Seraphim, huh?" She tapped a finger on her lips. "Seraph, the Hebrew meaning 'burning one'. Reference to the angels encircling the throne of God, singing his praises. Why the plural form?"

I shrugged. "It sounded better? The tri-syllabic word rolls off the tongue quite well, don't you think?"

She slowly nodded. "Matches the rhythm of 'Superman', too. You're not afraid you're going to get sued by the company that owns the character?"

"Yes, that was subconsciously intended, I suppose. I didn't actually design the suit. It was made for me. The symbol was also independently created by a graphic designer. Wonderful craftsmanship, don't you think?"

"Oh, it's a lovely suit to get sued in."

I shook my head. "Not the intended purpose." I let out a quick sigh. "I didn't expect to actually endure the interview, just yet. I thought this was a show of faith."

"It is, but I am recording everything. Not video, obviously, but the audio. I'm not trying to come off as a hardass. It's just my nature. I don't really trust anyone."

"Perhaps someday you'll come to trust me." I offered a smile.

"One final question: why don't you wear a mask? Your face is out there to be used in AI facial recognition. Someone's going to figure out who you are, eventually."

"In the world today, there are people hiding their faces and doing heinous acts. They think they can act with impunity and without accountability. My decision to not wear a mask is an effort to be held accountable. I'm not hiding my face because–though I value my everyday anonymity–I act in a public way that isn't without its implications. I'm trying to foster trust. You know my face. You know you can trust me because of what I do. I'm here to help. I'm here to be a friend to those that have none."

"Wow. Someone that actually believes in altruism. Please pinch me."

"Sincerity, empathy, and compassion are some things this world lacks, right now. Isn't it time people had a little hope?"

She hesitated for a long moment. She glanced at the sidewalk and appeared to be thinking. After a time, she raised her eyes to me once more. "Please don't call me 'Miss Lane'. You make me sound like a teacher. I'm Lindsey."

I offered a warm smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lindsey."

"I'll send you the address for a podcast studio a friend will let me use. We'll do a full interview there as soon as we can. Are you still willing to do it?"

I nodded slowly, but firmly. "Of course, Miss Lane–I mean, Lindsey. You let me know and I'll be there."

"You never answered my question: why me? I'm a small channel. I'm nobody."

"We're all somebody, Lindsey."