Epilogue

n~n~n

The girl in the black leather jacket arrived in town at twilight. She drove no car, rode no motorcycle. She glided above the two-lane highway and followed the double yellow line, her pace neither fast nor slow. Black leather pants and steel-toed boots helped keep the chill away.

She looked like a woman with much on her mind, her shoulders square and her jaw set tight. Her disheveled, chocolate-brown hair moved with the breeze in a way that made it appear designed to do so. The long, blowing hair obscured much of her face, its dark color accenting the pale skin beneath it. Behind the hair her eyes glowed, unmistakably red.

When she arrived at a crossroads, she did not hesitate. She followed the road that forked to the right as if that were the path she had been aiming for all along, as if destiny had brought her there.

She paused and hovered 20 feet in the air as a Humvee approached. She lit a cigarette and stuffed a fire-scarred Zippo back into her pocket, unconsciously fingering its curves. The Humvee slowed, its spotlight catching the glow of her eyes. She briefly considered destroying it simply because she could, but in the end she knew she would never do that.

She looked frightening to most humans, but she refused to look away. Never again would she look away. The soldier behind the wheel felt a shiver run up his spine as he drove on, glad to be moving.

A convenience store lay ahead, its fluorescent lights guiding her toward it, and she headed there.

She landed on two feet at the front door and pushed it in with her mind.

The clerk stopped what he was doing and gawked at her. Customers whispered to one another and fumbled for their cell phone cameras, but she paid them no mind.

She closed her eyes and took in the smells, the sights, the feelings and the memories this place had for her. It was the first time she'd been back since that night.

She twisted the ring on her finger, an affectation she had picked up without realizing it. She ran her fingers over the counter and eyed the magazine rack, where her face, haunted and dark, stared back at her.

"Is Bella Swan the World's First Superhero?" the bold text asked.

"No," she whispered through gritted teeth. "I am the second."

-30-