Sympathy for the Devil
Eddie stands in front of a door to a house in a neighborhood in El Paso, Texas. It's just past noon, on a Sunday, and there are plenty of people just hanging out on their porches with their kids. Which doesn't exactly help Eddie. He's wearing his lucky orange hoodie, and he takes his communicator out of it's pocket, flipping it open to his text message from Jaime.
"Hey, wanna come hang out in my hometown?" He checked the address and directions. This was the right house. It was easy to find, luckily. Eddie didn't want to have to ask anyone directions and blow his cover. He raises his hand and knocks on the door.
"I wonder if the rest of his family are supers..."
"Hey, wanna come hang out in my hometown?" He checked the address and directions. This was the right house. It was easy to find, luckily. Eddie didn't want to have to ask anyone directions and blow his cover. He raises his hand and knocks on the door.
"I wonder if the rest of his family are supers..."