Maelstrom

Jessica Bailey slid down in the front seat of the family's thirteen-year-old Chevy. She had ceased being mortified about riding in a car that was a year older than she was.

Now it was simply embarrassment.

"Bye, Jess. Thanks for the ride, Mr. B.!"

"See ya tomorrow, Tasha," Jessica said wanly as he father waved to Tasha's mother.

Frank Bailey eased the auto into traffic.

He glanced over at his daughter.

"Everything okay, hon?"

"Sure."

He sighed.

"Your momma has the new car," he remarked.

'New' car - heh. Six years old. But it certainly looked better than this old heap.

Still... she was hurting her father's feelings. Come on, buck up.

"Yeah," she nodded in agreement.

She tried to brighten.

"Where is Mom, anyway? She usually picks us up."

Her father shrugged. "Not sure, hon."

Jessica sat back in her seat and watched the world go by.

Why her father kept this old clunker was beyond her. Sure, he was only a fireman, but they made decent money...

At once she felt ashamed. Here her Dad had driven out to pick them up, broken arm and all.

Only a fireman. He had saved two kids, and that was just last week.

But - was that all there was? Being a fireman, her mom selling cosmetics door to door. It just seemed so - average.

Suddenly there was an insistent... chirping sound.

"What's that?"

Frank froze.

"Dad?"

Her father was looking desperately outside the window.

"Crap," he breathed. "Nowhere safe to drop you... "

The chirping grew louder. It sure didn't sound like any sound she had heard from a car before.

She looked at her father. Was he trying to avoid... telling her what - ?

Her father bit his lip.

"It's an emergency signal."

"Oh."

"From your mother."

"Oh!"

Jessica was confused. What the heck did her mother need with an emergency signal?

"Jess. I'm going to drop you at the church. You'll be safe there."

"Wh - wait a minute. I'm not getting - "

"Jessica Chioma Bailey!"

"Your arm's broken! How're you gonna help Mom with - "

"Good.

"Point," her father calmly reponded.

Jessica gasped in astonishment as the center part of the dash receded, exposing what looked like an old radar screen.

In the upper left, a white light pulsed - but switched to the upper right as her father turned the car.

Jessica's eyes were wide. This... this thing worked. It was real!

"Not responding," Frank said quietly as he pushed an old-fashioned green button underneath the screen. "She must be hurt."

She looked at the screen, then up at her father.

"You - you're like James Bond?" she whispered in awe.

"Even better," her father smiled grimly.

He swung the wheel again, and Jessica watched the blinking dot move toward the center line.

"Now this thing isn't all that exact," he said calmly. "It was top-of-the-line twenty years ago.

"I need you to keep a close eye out that side of the car, okay?"

She nodded, both terrified and excited at the same time.

"I'll keep watch out this side. Should be near her in about... three minutes."

Jessica scrunched up her lip.

"Twenty... years? But the car... "

"Eyes out, honey."

"Yessir."

Frank chuckled softly, then turned his attention to the greying world outside.

A few sprinkles fell on the windshield.

Jessica's eyes narrowed - this wasn't the most inviting part of town. She'd almost suspect her father of purposefully driving here, as a reminder that she didn't have it so bad - except for that gizmo they were following.

Nevertheless. Lesson learned.

Her eyes widened as her father pulled the car into a narrow alley.

"All right," he said, nodding grimly. "Help me get her to the car, Jess."

He and Jessica sprang from the car and ran down the alley. At first, Jessica didn't see her - then gasped as she spotted her mother crumpled against a wall.

"Ann. Ann!" Frank carressed her face. "She's been shot - grab her legs - "

"Ohmigosh ohmigosh ohmigosh," Jessica breathed, putting her houlder under the woman's arm. "Help you, Dad... oh, Mom!"

"We gotta get her to Doc Stern," her dad said as he gunned the engine in reverse.

"A doctor?! She's been shot! She needs a hospital!" Jessica cried. "A hospital!"

"Trust me," her father said quietly, wheeling the car around.

"What - what's she wearing?" sniffed Jessica.

Some kind of... skyblue bodysuit?! And boots? In September?!

What was - her mom was an aerobics instructor?

Who shoots an aerobics instructor?!

"Calm down, Jess. I know it looks bad - "

"She's been shot!"

"Yes, she has," he father replied as calmly as possible.

He'd cry later - right now he had to keep it together. For Ann. For Jessica.

"Listen. Jess.

"She's hurt pretty bad, yes, but we're getting her to a doctor. One who knows us. He'll take good care of - "

Whooom!

Jessica screamed as a bright flash filled the car! The auto was airborne, and tumbled once, twice, three times before coming to a halt.

She blinked away tears; she told herself it was because of the smoke.

"D-daddy? Mom?"

There was only silence.

She crawled out the broken window of the overturned car - and was startled when her hand fell on a black boot.

She looked up...

To see a man clad in a black leather flightsuit, with heavy boots and gloves. His helmet swept back, as if it were in motion, and his visor was tinted blood red.

Along his sleeves were black... tubes? No - guns.

Pointed at her.

"Zo," the man's thin lips cracked a smile. "The great Windstorm has a daughter."

Jessica looked at him blankly.

The man swung his arm a bit, revealing a small, white, winged swastika over his heart.

The realization slowly dawned on him.

"Mein gott.

"You didn't know."

He laughed loud and hard.

"You truly didn't know, did you?"

Jessica blinked.

Windstorm?

She had heard about Windstorm in Social Studies class, civil rights unit. She had apparently been a big deal, but she hadn't been seen in action since -

She gulped.

Since Jessica was born.

Oh.

My.

God.

Her mom... was Windstorm?

"Ich... bin Messerschmitt," he mock-bowed. "Ein altes... acquaintence, of your mother's."

He moved his wrist, and there was a fearsome clitch-clatch.

"Finally I will have my revenge," he cocked his tremendous gun.

"On Windstorm."

"L-leave her alone," Jessica stood, trembling. "Don't hurt her."

He looked at her with contempt.

"I am sorry, fraulien, but I have been awaiting this moment for over ten years."

He raised his gun-arm and took aim at the wreck of the car.

"Today... I send Windstorm to holle."

"Leave."

Jessica felt something bubbling up inside her.

"My."

Churning.

"Family."

Like a whirlpool at the base of a falls.

"Alone!"

With an ear-splitting roar, wind and water together erupted from her hands!

Messerschmitt screamed, engulfed in the chaos - hurricane-force winds howled and piled waves upon one another as the alleyway filled with a mighty whirlpool!

Jessica stood in shock, terrified, as the storm poured forth from her hands - and surged out of control!

Messerschmitt, pounded by the winds and waves, was limp as a rag doll as he was slammed back and forth between the alley walls!

Then, her arms began to shake. Her knees buckled - and she began to rise off the ground!

Suddenly, her young body had endured enough. She collapsed to the pavement, and lay still.

Jessica's eyelids fluttered, and she dimly saw a greying white man with a bushy moustache and glasses.

"She'll be all right. The strain must have got her."

"Thanks, Doc," her father's voice floated through the haze.

Jessica snapped awake.

"D-dad! Wh-what - "

"Easy, there, hon," her father said, reassuringly.

She - ohh, heck, she had probably taken a volleyball to the head. Had a... nightmare.

Sure, That was it.

Only... why did her father... have bandages all over? Had there been a fire?

"You've had quite a day," her mother said.

She jerked her head to the left. Her mother gently stroked her forehead.

Jessica immediately noted that she was wearing an Oregon ducks sweatshirt over grey sweatpants.

Not Jazzertards.

Heh.

Oh. Oh, sure. Her mom was a superheroine.

She felt her forehead - yep, there was a big bump. Must have taken a spike, right in the forehead.

Heh. Boy, did she feel stupid.

She slowly sat upright. "Sorry. I guess I should have ducked the ball... "

After a moment of hesitation, her father chuckled -

But her mother did not.

"No, Frank," she said calmly. "We let it go, she'll talk about it with her friends, for sure."

She looked into Jessica's eyes.

"I wanted to wait to tell you, until you were older," she said softly. "But you've manifested the power - due to stress, most likely."

Jessica's face went blank.

"Waitaminute... "

"You are first-born daughter of a first-born daughter of a Chioma. My mother bore the powers, as did her mother, and her mother before."

"I'll... leave you to explain... " the doctor said.

Jessica's eyes flashed toward the mustachioed man.

"Jacob Stern," he said simply. "Don't worry - it's far from the first time I've patched up your mother. Though it has been awhile."

The door closed softly behind him.

"Mom. You were Windstorm? The Windstorm, 'Heroine of Civil Rights'?"

Ann Bailey laughed lightly.

"There were many, many others who fought just as hard, harder, than I did," she said. "Because of my power, I ended up fighting a lot of the... physical fights. Defended poll workers, voters... even went down to Louisiana to take down the Phantom Dragon.

"Made a lot of friends. Made a lot of enemies."

"Oh my - " Jessica suddenly exclaimed. "Messerschmitt! He - "

"He was still out when the police picked him up," Frank said calmly. "Don't worry, your mother was gone by then."

Ann sighed."Yes, Messerschmitt - and the rest of the Kriegmaschine. American Nazis, if you can believe such a thing."

She shook her head.

"I thought I had hung up the costume for good, but then he came back. I had to - "

She exhaled violently.

"It was personal, let's say that."

For a moment no one said a word.

"So... he was your arch-enemy?"

Frank and Ann looked at each other warily.

"What?" Jessica asked quietly.

"I wasn't always a firefighter, Jess," her father said seriously. "A long time ago, I organized marches, civil disobedience, sit-ins. Messerschmitt was hired to kill me. He got my folks instead."

Jessica's eyes were wide with shock.

"In order to protect my sister and brother, some of your mom's super-friends set me up with a new name, new background. Sort of like the witness protection program.

"I became... Frank Bailey."

"Oh. Ohh, jeez... "

Jessica looked at her father, then her mother.

Finally she looked at the floor.

"Then... who am I?" she asked quietly.

"You're Jessica Ann Chioma Bailey," Frank said, putting his arms around his daughter. "I married your mother as Frank Bailey - this is my life now. You and your momma are what I live for."

Jessica nodded slightly and pressed her face into her father's chest.

"Scared?" he whispered.

Jessica shut her eyes tight and nodded.

Ann placed her hand on her shoulder.

"Easy, dear - Messerschmitt was a remnant of that terrible era. One that you handled well."

Jessica looked up at her.

"Am I... supposed to be a superhero, too?"

"You have plenty of time to figure that out," her mother said softly. "For now, just enjoy being a teenager. You'll have years to make that decision."

Jessica nodded, then hesitated.

"Mom?

"Did you stop being Windstorm... because of me?"

Ann smiled softly. "Partly, I suppose. I decided that my daughter was now the most important thing in my life. As you got older, Windstorm made fewer and fewer appearances.

"I had done my part. I deserved a rest. And at the time there wasn't much call for superheroes any more - especially not up here in Portland."

"Shhh, we can talk about all this later," Frank said, rubbing his daughter's head. "I think we dumped a little bit too much on you, eh?"

Jessica sniffed.

"Come on, now," Ann said, wiping her eyes. "Doc said he'd drive us home."

"Well, one good thing about tonight, Jess," Frank smiled.

She looked at him questioningly.

"Looks like we're finally gonna have to get a new car."