PJ apparently had a magical taxi service.

At least, that's what it first seemed like to Jack.

They'd left the house shortly after Jack had agreed with PJ to go to whatever this "base" was, and started making their way down the sidewalk. They continued like this long enough for Jack to fall under the misconception that the base was within walking distance. He was content in believing this, until PJ pulled out his phone, dialed a number and requested a ride from the person on the other end.

"Hey, I'm gonna need a lift back to base."

He paused as the person on the other end spoke. Jack could just make out the sound of their voice, but couldn't distinguish any words.

"For recruitment... yeah, though it'd be best to bring him back. Yeah, the latest one. Alright, see you in a bit."

PJ then hung up the phone and continued walking, leaving Jack to marvel at him in confusion.

"Who was that?" He asked.

"Oh, just Rich. He works in the transportation branch, since he's on his last life," PJ replied, scanning the road that they were walking alongside over and over, as if expecting something to appear any second.

The fact that somebody had managed to use up all thirteen lives puzzled Jack. You had so many chances to not accidentally die, and then you somehow manage to fuck up twelve of those chances. To be fair, the world was brimming with lethal organisms and instances, but in just how many ways did this guy die? Did he drown one time, and get shot the next? Or did he just fall down the same set of stairs on twelve separate occasions? Maybe he died of old age, if that was even possible for them to do.

"How does one die twelve times?" Jack inquired, vocalizing his thoughts.

"It's a lot easier than you think" PJ replied, a knowing smile on his face.

"Is it really though?"

"You already died once, Jack," PJ humorously replied, pointing out the fault in Jack's argument. "What do you think?"

Jack laughed, and looked down at the pavement in embarrassment.

"Okay, point taken."

Jack could see a small triumphant smile peeking out from the tall collar of PJ's coat before the taller man continued.

"Like I said, it's a lot easier than you think. Especially when you're with the IH."

Jack was puzzled by the acronym at the end of PJ's sentence, the meaning behind the letters unknown to him.

"What's the IH?"

PJ remained silent for a moment, contemplating a good explanation, before speaking. "Well, long story short, it's an organization."

"Go figure," Jack muttered sarcastically, taking advantage of the long and thoughtful pause between PJ's words.

"Hey, I wasn't finished!" PJ, causing Jack to laugh in response.

"As I was saying, it's an organization of superhuman first responders, if that makes any sense."

It really didn't, but Jack decided to just nod and go with it at this point.

"It actually stands for 'immortalem heroibus,' which means 'immortal heroes.' Kind of a stupid name if you think about it, because none of us are actually immortal. We may have more than one life, but after thirteen we're dead for good.

Anyways, what we do is we take advantage of the fact that we have more lives than normal humans, as well as some enhanced abilities-"

Wait, hold the fuck up, enhanced abilities??? What "enhanced abilities?"

"To rescue people in dangerous situations. We're far less likely to die, thanks to things like increased endurance and stamina or faster healing, and even if we do die we have a bunch more lives left. So we use all of that for good."

Jack stared at PJ in bewilderment, doing his best to comprehend all that had just been explained. It was scary, sure, but Jack couldn't help but admit it was really damn cool at the same time. A race of beings with weird powers going out and saving people was something straight out of a comic book, and that excited Jack more than it should have in such a legitimately life-threatening situation. However, watching action movies and reading comic books was one thing, but actually living them was something else entirely, as plenty of the worlds that those works of fiction take place in are highly unpleasant and dangerous to live in. Who's to say it wouldn't be the same in the real world? The weight of these two observations were causing a conflict within Jack.

"So you guys are basically superheroes?" Jack asked, characteristically attempting to add humour into the conversation once more.

PJ laughed. "That's actually the best way to describe it, funny enough. Cool, huh?"

"Hell yeah!" Jack replied enthusiastically. "I can finally be Spider-Man!"

"Hm, well I've been doing all of this a lot longer," PJ replied, his tone implying that he was jokingly considering something. "I think it's only fair that I get the title of Spider-Man!"

"You can pry that title away from my cold, dead hands."

"Again, you already managed to die when you got hit by a car earlier today. It shouldn't be that hard to do."

"Hey!"

Jack opened his mouth to say more, but remained silent when he noticed that PJ had stopped walking in the middle of a sidewalk. Jack quickly scanned the area near him, but couldn't see any possible object that PJ would be stopping for, and there certainly wasn't anyone else walking in this direction at this hour.

"Why did you stop?"

"This is where we're meeting Rich," PJ explained, returning to his incessant checking of both sides of the road. Jack still couldn't see anything coming down the road for kilometres, so PJ's repeated checking proved he was either nervous or impatient. Either way, they had some waiting to do.

Taking a couple of steps back, Jack positioned himself so that he was directly parallel to how PJ was standing.

"So does the taxi always come over here? Is this a designated stop?" Jack asked, trying to pass the time without letting the conversation slip away into awkward and unbearable silence.

"Yeah, kind of," PJ replied, never talking his eyes off of the other sides of the roads. "Rich is able to track where I am based on where I'm calling him from, and he and I always meet at the closest designated stop."

"How does he pinpoint where your call is coming from?"

"His phone is equipped to do so. It's part of his job, after all, so the IH made sure to give him the proper technology to do said job."

Just as Jack was about to further question PJ on the technologies of the IH, two small pinpricks of light appeared at the other end of the road, gradually getting closer. This road wasn't one many people traveled down during the daytime, let alone in the middle of the night, so Jack could only assume that this was their ride.

"Here we are!" PJ cried once the car got a bit closer, proving Jack's assumption to be true. Now that the vehicle wasn't so far in the distance, Jack could just make out some of the features of the car in the pale light from the streetlamps. The model was new, Jack could tell that immediately, though how new he couldn't gage. It couldn't have been more than a year old, at least. It was black in colour with a slicked back shape, as if it were designed for speed, though it didn't seem particularly big. This struck Jack as odd, because a car used for the transportation of passengers should typically be designed to hold quite a few people and whatever baggage they may have with them. The slender and sleek shape of the car didn't make much sense here.

Nevertheless, Jack brushed this thought aside as the car pulled up in front of him and PJ. There were more important things to worry about right now.

There was a brief moment of awkward eye contact between the driver and the waiting passengers as the window slowly rolled down. The driver, who must be Rich, appeared to be in his mid-forties, with slightly greying hair cut into the same style that almost every stereotypical dad in bad sitcoms seemed to have, and a scruffy beard that was unkempt and could probably use a trim. The colour of his eyes was indeterminable in the poor lighting, but Jack was still able to make out the wiry frame of a very old pair of glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose.

"Didn't think I'd be called out this late at night," Rich said to them, flashing what could only be described as a game show host smile and revealing a set of flawless teeth.

"Sorry," Jack instinctively apologized, feeling guilty now that he knew this guy had had to get up and drive just to pick him and PJ up.

"Don't be sorry kid," Rich replied reassuringly, the smile never leaving his face. This time, Jack was able to detect an accent in his voice, and was happy to realize that Rich also had an Irish accent like his own. Rich's wasn't as thick, however, and almost undetectable, yet still there at the same time. "It's me who should be thanking you. I like driving out at night, since it's so quiet, and you gave me an excuse to do that."

This relieved Jack slightly, and he felt a bit more comfortable around this stranger now that they'd gotten the chance to interact a bit.

"Hop in," Rich said, gesturing to the back seat of the car with his head. "It's a bit of a drive back to base, but it shouldn't take us too long."

"Thanks, Rich," PJ said as the two men opened the door and slid their way across the seat. "I know it was super last minute."

Rich just shook his head in response. "Like I said, it's really no trouble at all. Today's been fucking boring, so you gave me something to do."

"You guys ready to go?" Rich asked after giving both Jack and PJ a long moment to do up their seatbelts.

The duo nodded in affirmation.

"Alrighty, let's go."

And with that, they were off.

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It was less of a drive than Jack had begun to think it would be. Only about a thirty or forty minute one, from what he estimated.

It had started off slow and a bit uncomfortable, as Rich and PJ already knew each other and got along swimmingly, which made it hard for Jack to integrate into the conversation. Eventually, however, Jack was able to warm up to Rich a bit more, and the car ride went much faster from there. Rich turned out to be a guy who'd lived a very interesting life, or lives, more accurately. There were several times where he would launch into these grand escapades about some bizarre event from his past, which PJ and Jack both listened to intently every time. The one that struck Jack as the weirdest was the one where Rich, in his teen years, had supposedly burned down a house. Rich had unfortunately skimmed over quite a few details in that one, and the conversation changed subjects and moved on before Jack got a chance to ask him about it, which was saddening.

Before he knew it, Jack saw the silhouette of a large dome-shaped building come into view, and Rich turned left into the road that lead to it, bringing them to what could only be their destination.

"Thanks for the company boys," Rich said as he pulled up the car right in front of the building. "I don't often get such nice company."

PJ and Jack both thanked him in quick succession, almost in unison.

"It was nice meeting you," Jack stated with a friendly smile as he began getting out of the car.

"The pleasure's all mine," Rich replied, which happened to be the last thing said between them. Jack got out of the car and Rich drove off immediately following that.

"He's a real character, isn't he?" PJ said, looking at the leaving car with an expression of fondness.

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "That guy has a ridiculous amount of stories."

"You've only heard a small portion of them," PJ joked, beginning to turn around and walk towards the front entrance of the building. Jack followed suit. "I've known Rich for years, and he's never told me the same story twice."

"Really?"

"Yep. I don't know what kind of shit he gets up to in his spare time, but he's going to have the best stories for his future grandchildren someday."

The lighthearted note that the conversation ended on put Jack in a much better state of mind than he'd been in earlier that night, but that happier note still wasn't enough to quell the bubbling anxiety he felt trying to break its way to the surface.

Here we go.

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"Don't throw knives out here!" A voice called as soon as PJ and Jack walked through the front door.

"Well where else am I supposed to do it? The training room is closed!"

"It's closed for a reason! You hit someone with a knife and they bled all over the equipment!"

"They walked right in front of the target! Don't blame me for their stupidity!"

"For the last time, the bulletin board is not a target! You're lucky they don't suspend you!"

Jack looked around the large room wildly in search of the sources of the arguing voices, the talk of throwing knives and blood greatly  concerning him. PJ however just shook his head an pinched the bridge of his nose, as if this was an occurrence that he regularly witnessed, and was tired of dealing with.

Before Jack got a chance to ask anything, PJ turned and walked to the far right corner of the room, where the source of the argument appeared to be coming from. The duo had to politely push their way past some people who were standing around and talking, but it wasn't long before the arguers were in sight.

Standing face to face in the middle of a cluster of couches and chairs were two people, one who appeared female and one who appeared male, both of them with extremely similar features. The two were both tall and scrawny, willowy being a perfect description for their body types, and they both had blonde hair, icy blue eyes and large-framed black glasses. The girl appeared to be slightly taller than the guy however, and was more tan. The way she stood was also different, as her posture radiated self-assurance and aggression, while the guy was slightly slouched and kept rubbing his arm nervously, as if he were intimidated. 

"Guys, what are you arguing about this time?" PJ asked them, exasperated. 

The guy turned to PJ and immediately looked relieved to see him, which lead Jack to believe they knew each other. 

"Lin's going to kill someone!" He said, gesturing to the girl in front of him.

"I am not!" She retorted with ferocity, causing the other arguer to waver in his stance even more so than he already had. "God, I hit one person. One!"

"You hit someone! With a knife! What part of the don't you understand!" The other one said, sighing in frustration before turning around and pacing in a circle.

"Egan, what happened this time?" PJ asked.

"Lin was throwing knives in the training room, and decided to use the bulletin board as a target," the guy answered, his words sounding more and more harsh as he spoke. "Someone was carrying something and didn't see Lin standing there, and so they walked right in front of the board just as Lin threw another knife."

Jack felt a sense of horror pass through him. Not only did this girl, who he now knew was named Lin, hit someone with a knife, but then proceeded to act very flippant about it. It made Jack scared to get any closer to her.

"They'll be fine," Lin said, seeming as fed up as the guy, who must be Egan, at the moment. "Last time I got stabbed it took maybe and hour to heal, and my wound was way deeper."

PJ and Egan both shook their heads at her, whereas Jack's eyes widened in shock. The longer this conversation went on, the more and more absurd it became.

"Okay, I'm really sorry to interrupt, but could one of you please explain what the fuck is going on?" He asked, causing PJ, Lin, And Egan to all turn and look at him. The three pairs of eyes on him suddenly made Jack a bit uncomfortable, seeing as all three people were considerably taller than him, and one was apparently prone to hitting people with throwing knives.

"Who's this?" Lin asked, looking back and forth from Jack to PJ.

"He's a new recruit," PJ said. "And a good friend."

Jack waved awkwardly. "Hi."

Lin continued to look at Jack, as if trying to figure out what to make of him, while Egan walked forward and stuck out his hand for a handshake.

"Nice to meet you," he said, his tone much friendlier than when he was addressing Lin. "My name's Egan."

"Call me Jack," Jack replied, returning the handshake. He wasn't sure he trusted these two with his real name at the moment, so he used his nickname instead.

"Sorry about my sister over there," Egan said, nodding in Lin's direction and giving a subtle roll of his eyes in annoyance. "She's... eccentric."

Lin glared at him, opening her mouth to give a clever retort, but then closing it again right away, as if she decided that launching into another argument right now wasn't worth it. 

"Are you guys headed down to see Sarah and Alex?" Egan asked, looking towards PJ this time.

"Yeah, need to sort some things out," PJ replied. "Are they still here?"

Egan nodded. "They are. There was some case earlier that required a lot of paperwork, and they both got held up."

"We'd better get going then," PJ said in a disappointed tone, seeming sad he didn't get to talk to these two more. Jack couldn't fathom why, as Lin seemed a bit dangerous.

"It was nice meeting you guys," Jack said, looking directly at Egan as he said it out of fear that making eye contact with Lin would somehow provoke her.

"Likewise," Egan replied with a polite smile. "I've got to deal with miss psychopath over there right now, but I'm sure Jack and I will get a chance to get properly acquainted later."

Without another word, Egan rushed over to Lin's side, and then attempted to drag her away by the arm. She immediately pulled her arm out of his grasp and began to storm ahead of him, causing Egan to have to hurry to catch up with her. Then they disappeared into another room several feet away, and were gone.

"They seem... interesting," Jack muttered to PJ, still unnerved by the conversation that had just taken place.

"Egan's really easy to get along with," PJ muttered back as they started walking away from the couches and towards a long hallway a couple of feet away. "But Lin is basically the human equivalent of a cactus."

Jack couldn't help but chuckle at that remark, following PJ down the hallway and hoping that the next people they met would be a bit more laid back.

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"He's here," he mumbled into his phone, making sure to keep his voice low. There wasn't anyone over in this section of the building, but he wasn't taking any chances

"Who's with him?" Came her voice from the other end.

"PJ Liguori. Remember him? Tall guy, green eyes, brown hair."

"Yeah, I remember him. Haven't spoken to him in ages though. Is he clean?"

"From what I know, he's solely with the IH, meaning he's an adversary. I did a background check beforehand, and he's been assigned to the missing persons cases several times in the past few weeks."

"Shit."

"Relax," he assured her, though he had to admit he wasn't exactly happy with the turn of events either. "He and the