October had been in fights as a kid and never liked them.

Now she was here, on a roof with a team of strangers being attacked by Beekeepers and God knows why. She didn’t like this either.

She didn’t know these people. She’d seen the Street Sentry in action and he seemed like a good guy. He was on her side. That one weird old lady and the scary guy were too, but that was less comforting.

And Adam. He was just standing there. Angry? Sad? Both. He’d really wanted this team thing to work out.

October joined the fray.

The helmet hadn’t protected Clint from the smoke. He’d coughed and coughed until he’d fallen over. He’d been helpless.

When the air cleared, Clint saw his new teammates in combat against a bunch of people in suits like Adam’s. Beekeepers used smoke, he was sure he’d seen that somewhere. These pricks had come into his town and made him helpless.

Clint stood up, felt the energy from the helmet course through his veins. The nearest Beekeeper was facing away, trying to find some way to flank Gladys and Dante.

Clint punched the prick right in the back of the head.

Myrtle crawled to a corner of the roof, reached into her inside jacket pocket, pulled out a bag of powder. She pinched some powder between two fingers, spoke some words, blew the powder into the air. Much of the smoke cleared.

The others, those who had been choking, were now able to take in fresh air, and to see Gladys and Dante being overwhelmed by Beekeepers.

October was near Myrtle. Her eyes wet from coughing, she asked “What the hell is happening?”

“Seems like we’re fighting Beekeepers,” Myrtle said. “I can’t do much more to help. What have you got?”