Erica grabs a notepad and starts scrawling down a message in front of me: It’s a prototype. Isn’t it cooooool?!?!?!?!?!
Once I’ve read it, Erica tears off the paper and scrunches it up, before allowing a ball of fire in her hands to consume the note and make it disappear like the final wisp of a paper ghost. Then she signals she’s going to show me something more. Rubbing her thumb and fore-fingers together to kindle a gentle flame, she places her hand down onto the torso of the suit. I can see that her hand is burning hot, it’s actually glowing red, but when she takes it away the material of the suit is utterly unscathed. Erica gestures for me to touch the part of the suit she just attempted to fry, and I reach down warily and let my fingertips touch it before pulling my hand away, expecting a burn. But there is none. I try again, this time allowing my whole palm to rest on the patch of material that should be scorched or molten. But it’s cool. It’s completely cool.
Erica writes another note: This is astronaut material. It’s practically indestructible!!!!
Once again she quickly tears up the note and lets it burn to ashes.
‘We can’t talk about this, ever. OK?’ Erica shouts at me. I make the international sign-language gesture for My lips are sealed. She continues: ‘Because actually, even though I know that I’m allowed to tell you about this, I might not necessarily have been given authorisation to show you.’
I grab the notepad, prepared to demonstrate exactly how much I understand how sensitive this all is, and write down: It looks amazing!!!! And I can already imagine it covered in sponsor logos, just like a real Vigil uniform!!!!!!
Erica writes back to me: Wouldn’t it be nice if the suit wasn’t going to be covered in logo patches? If it was just me? And that stood for enough?
Me: That’s not how it works.
Erica sighs and lets her hand trail over the futuristic black fabric, caressing it like a beloved pet. Her other hand clasps the piece of paper we were just writing on, and it vaporises completely within her hot fist. We sit closer together on the bed, so that even though the music is still loud we can just about hear each other when we talk.
‘Will you get in trouble for showing it to me?’ I ask. I figure if I’m not being too specific, talking instead of note-writing will be all right.
‘Not if they don’t find out. Jay says I have to learn to cut my ties with the past and look to the future. He thinks it’s all waiting for me, if I can just let go. Except, I just felt, after everything we’ve been through, I couldn’t not show you. You know?’
‘Do you do everything Jay says?’
‘He’s what they call my “handler”. Everything has to go through him first. He’s my first call. It sucks that he’s not in school any more, but he says that he has other work to do, so I get it. We talk nearly every night though. He’s really sweet.’
‘What do you talk about?’ I try to make it sound casual, and hope that her Jay obsession will hide the fact that I’m totally prying and suspicious.
‘He has these big ideas. About life, the universe, but mostly about the Vigils. He was so impressed when I told him that my favourite is the Amazing Clara, because he said that most girls nowadays wouldn’t get what she was about. We talk about this –’ she gestures to the suit between us – ‘and how it would be so great if there was no such thing as sponsors. Being a Vigil now is so much about the money – but back then, when the Amazing Clara was saving the world, it was all about selflessness and justice. He calls them the “golden days”. Says that he’d love to bring them back, and how, you know, when I get old enough to join the team properly, that I could do a lot of good for the world.’
‘He has a lot of faith in you.’
‘Really he’s just amazing. And, I know I can tell you this and you won’t laugh or anything, but I think he’s just waiting for me to get older, and complete my training, and then we can be together. He’s putting no pressure on me. He knows how important joining the Vigils is. Look, I’ll show you something else …’
Erica leaves my side, eyes ablaze with mischief, and goes back over to her desk. She puts the costume away, then reaches into the back of a drawer and pulls out a scrap of paper. Then she comes back to the bed.
‘I have to be really careful not to burn it or anything,’ she admits, handing the scrap to me.
It’s a portrait of Erica, absolutely perfect, right down to the way her hair falls on one side. It looks like it’s been done with the finest of ink pens.
‘Jay’s really good at the whole photocopying thing,’ she says. ‘But this is where his superpower gets really special. All he did was look at me, and then put his hand down on the paper, and suddenly this picture was there. It was like he saw me, really saw me.’
‘Wow,’ I mouth.
‘It’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.’
I admit that I’m impressed, even though the whole thing makes me feel a little icky, and then offer to put the portrait back away for her. Erica reaches over to her sound system and turns the music down. I guess that means the superhero chat is over. On her desk is a recent English essay. We’re in different classes for English but I had the same assignment last week.
‘You got a D on this? But we read the book together. I thought you liked it.’ I’m a little perplexed at the result – she should have done a lot better.
‘Whatever.’ Erica doesn’t seem interested.
‘But you definitely could have got a B, maybe even an A. What happened? Why didn’t you ask me for help?’
‘Lou, I’m going to be a Vigil. Who cares about animal imagery in the characterisation of Lennie in Of Mice and Men?’
‘Didn’t they say they wanted you to get your grades too?’
‘Jay told me that they say that to all the new recruits. It’s just in case you don’t end up being strong enough for the A team and have to end up doing a desk job or research work or something. But that’s not going to happen with me. He says I’m a shoo-in for the A team, so I figured, what’s the point of bothering with the exams?’
‘You need at least a C in English …’ I start, thinking about the requirements for the sixth form at our school.
‘Well, if you’re going to be a regular person, yes. But I’m not a regular person. I’m going to be a Vigil. Trust me, Lou, everything is going to be fine.’
I wish I could trust her. I really do. But as I walk home after sunset through the dark streets, I feel nervous. I want to walk right up to Jay and ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing. I know that grades might not be everything to Erica but he can’t make her blow her exams off. What happens if she gets injured one day and needs something to fall back on? I wonder if maybe I’m just feeling funny about all of this because I’m not involved. Suddenly Erica has yet another secret life, one that I’m not a part of this time, and as much as I’m trying to be happy for her, it’s just not happening.
How long has it been since we were both at the tunnel together, just the two of us? A month? Miraculously the stub of Jay’s cigarette is still there, just inside the tunnel entrance, protected from the weather by the brickwork. I know it’s just one stub, but I feel as if this place has been polluted. If I had a dustpan and brush handy, I’d be all over it. We’re here in the daytime for a change. A rare Sunday off for Erica means she wants me to traipse along after her and witness all the new tricks she’s learned. So here I am, a miserable lackey, carrying her stuff and thinking about all the other things that I could be getting on with, while Erica does her Excited-Child thing.
I’m getting horribly used to this. And I know I was never all that enthusiastic about our little tunnel adventures to begin with, especially after dark, but at least I was still a part of things. Erica needed me, whether to give her encouragement, to praise her, or to help her keep her feet – metaphorically – on the ground. But now? She just wants to show off. It doesn’t matter what I think or say, she’s craving an audience. I’m second-rate compared to her new friends, someone she feels th
at she needs to clock in time with to stave off the guilt. Well, I think she should feel guilty. It may not be entirely her fault, but still, I feel it.
‘You know they’ve got me training properly now, like running and everything,’ she starts. ‘And I’m doing weights to make me stronger because everybody tells me that’s a big weakness of mine. Some flyers have super-strength too, like Quantum, but I’m seriously lacking in that area. But then again, Quantum hasn’t got fire power. In fact, he’s not got anything apart from the flying and the strength, so really I don’t know what his big deal is.’
‘He’s the leader of the London team?’ I offer.
‘But you know, he’s really not all that … I mean, obviously he’s Quantum, and he’s amazing, but Deep Blue? He’s the one with the brains.’
‘So have you met everyone, then?’
‘Of course I have, silly!’ I hate the way she says this, as if it’s obvious, but it’s not as if she’s ever talked about it before. ‘I mean, they’re always out and about at the weekends, and I’m not, like, officially on the team yet, but I’ve met pretty much everyone now and they’re all super-nice.’
‘Are you even allowed to be talking about this with me?’
‘Don’t worry, the guys have swept this whole area for bugs and stuff. We’re totally safe here.’
Who are these ‘guys’ she’s talking about? And why does she just assume that I’d understand exactly what she means? I think about the fact that other people, people that I don’t know, must have been here if the tunnel has indeed been swept. This place, once our own personal secret hideout, doesn’t feel very secret any more.
‘So can I show you something?’ Erica asks.
‘Sure …’
‘It’s something that I’m practising, but haven’t really got down yet. So you’ll have to stand back quite a bit.’
‘Is it dangerous?’
‘Possibly. Probably not … but possibly. It’s something I’ve been thinking about ever since that day at the cinema, and I’ve been talking to Jay about it but he says I should keep it quiet from the rest of the Vigil guys until I know exactly what I can do, you know? So can I try it in front of you?’
‘Of course. But what is it?’
‘I’ll show you, but come and stand behind me first.’
I get up off the bench and move behind her, while Erica lines herself up in front of a small branch she retrieved from the very top of a tree a bit earlier. Why she couldn’t grab a branch nearer the ground, I don’t know.
‘Is this like the heat-wave thing?’ I ask.
‘Shh … just watch!’
It starts out like the heat wave, except that the branch is decidedly not on fire to begin with. I can’t feel anything from where I’m standing but I can see the air dancing with pulsing heat, shimmering as Erica holds her palm out towards the branch. Her posture tenses as she focuses the heat, and then suddenly the branch bursts into flame. She wasn’t even touching it. She doesn’t stop. Now it’s like the heat wave. The branch is alight and Erica keeps the pulses going so that the flame flares quickly upwards, angry and bright. I have to take a few steps back. The flames are so dazzlingly hot it prickles my skin and forces me to screw up my eyes. At one point I wonder how far this could go – could the branch actually explode from all the energy? Is that what Erica can do now, explode things from a distance? But the flames die back down as the branch completely incinerates to nothing but black ash.
‘Wow … spontaneous combustion,’ I mutter. I’m a little scared. This is a level of power I hadn’t even considered Erica capable of before.
‘I know, right?’ Erica turns back to me, a little out of breath from the exertion but looking incredibly pleased with herself. ‘Jay calls me his little bombshell. Get it? Bombshell?’
‘You can really set fire to things from a distance.’ I say it in disbelief.
‘Apparently so! But you know, a puny branch is one thing, I still have no idea how big I can take this!’
She goes out from the tunnel and into the field, so I follow, keeping an eye out for anyone who could be watching in the bright afternoon daylight. She comes to stand in front of a tree, an old oak that, because of its size and because its roots run deep and wide, is alone in the field. It sits apart, like a monument, and I guess that it’s been here long before the area was swallowed up by suburbia and its parkland.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask as I stand behind Erica, who is now holding both her arms out towards the tree. The grass under our feet crunches with dead leaves.
‘Was just thinking about how big I could go, and I was wondering …’ She trails off.
‘Erica? What were you wondering?’ My eyes dart from her, to her outstretched hands, to the tree before us. ‘Erica!’
I can see the air dancing from the heat she’s projecting, and I wonder if this is a joke, if she’s just trying to see how far she can go before somebody stops her. Except that she’s not listening. She’s aiming her powers at this magnificent oak, and I can’t just stand here and let her destroy it in the same way that she incinerated that branch.
‘Shhh,’ Erica mumbles. ‘I just want to see …’
I can’t let her do this. Apart from the environmental concern, if she sets the tree on fire she’ll be alerting people for miles around to our presence here. A great hulk of flaming oak does not go unnoticed. And then what? What if the fire spreads and she can’t contain it? Sure, she can grow flames and manipulate spontaneous combustion, but what happens when the flames get too much? How does she stop them?
‘Erica!’ I stand in front of her.
The force of the heat is like a hundred hairdryers blowing right in my face. It’s a jet stream of energy, pouring off her and onto me in stomach-churning waves. It takes my breath away and dries my throat. Fortunately she manages to put her hands down before any real damage is done, but I’m sweating and struggling to regain my breath once the November chill finds me again.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she demands, as if it was me who was doing something crazy.
‘Stopping you from instigating an ecological disaster!’ I reply, wiping the sweat from my face.
‘Oh, come on, I was never going to go through with it!’ She turns and stomps back into the tunnel. I follow close behind.
I cross my arms and ponder what just happened. I was terrified. What she did was dangerous and destructive, and there was something in her eyes, a drunk giddiness, that made my heart pang with terror. It was like Excited-Child Mode on turbo-charge. And now, even as she paces in the tunnel, I can tell she’s enjoying all of this a little too much. Despite my interference, she’s still woozy on her little power trip and bubbling with excess energy. She needs someone to remind her to use this power for good, and not to let it get out of hand or to go to her head, but I don’t know how to say any of this without making her angry. We’re not talking like that any more. I’m not Erica’s handler.
‘Jay says that if I work really hard, maybe I’ll be more powerful than Quantum one day.’ She’s talking as if what just happened was nothing. ‘He reckons that I could end up being the first female leader of the London team. Isn’t that amazing? I just can’t believe this stuff is within my grasp, you know? Can you imagine, me – a Vigil leader?’
‘You’re still young …’ I start to say. I want to add and inexperienced, and may not even pass some of your GCSEs? Oh, and by the way, YOU JUST NEARLY BLEW UP A WHOLE TREE FOR NO REASON. But I stop myself, wary that I might set Erica off.
I miss what it used to be like between us, so much. How did I become scared of her?
There was this one time last year when Erica was desperate to get out of a history test, because despite my efforts to help her with the revision, she just couldn’t get her head around it.
‘What’s the point of powers if I can’t ever use them to get out of trouble?’ she asked me, after which I did my usual job of telling her that it wasn’t an important test anyway and she should just mu
ddle through it.
Maybe I should have realised that her desire to push the limits and see what she could do was far more overwhelming than simply admitting defeat in history. Once she’s determined to do something, she has to go through with it.
There were these ramshackle prefab huts just on the edge of the school field that had been set up as temporary classrooms decades ago and never taken down. They weren’t used for teaching any more, but some after-school clubs were held in them. They had the old-fashioned type of sprinklers set into the ceiling and were rarely patrolled by the prefects or teachers.
So of course Erica had decided that this was the perfect place to make mischief. On the day of the test she went into one of the prefabs just before the end of break and let a hand burn, then flew up to the ceiling and activated the sprinklers. This automatically set off the fire alarm. If she just hit any old fire alarm randomly, someone would soon figure out that everything was fine and life would go on as normal. But what she needed was a bigass diversion that would put the history test off for a few days and allow her more time to cram. By setting off the sprinklers, she figured that the school would be evacuated and most of the next lesson would certainly be disrupted.
The first I knew about all of this was when I received a text on my phone moments after the alarm started wailing. I was in the library during break – of course I was – and it didn’t take me long to put two and two together to get the result: Erica-trouble.
I’m stuck in the outbuilding classroom! COME AND HELP ME!!!!
Those of us in the library shuffled out to the corridor, which was a thronging mass of kids making their way out to the field and the fire assembly point. I quickly veered away towards the outbuildings. For once I was thrilled I was short – nobody noticed me to tell me that I was heading the wrong way. I briefly wondered whether I did have a superpower after all: Super-Stealth Wallflower Mode.
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