by Matthew Cody
“Well,” said Rohan after Mollie was finished. “I think that settles it. We need to tell Eric.”
Mollie said nothing but looked at Daniel instead.
“What?” he said. “You guys can do whatever you want.”
“Yeah,” said Mollie. “I know that. But I want to know what you think.”
“What I think is that I don’t want to think about this anymore.”
“Daniel’s right,” said Rohan. “This isn’t the time to make decisions.”
“No, you don’t understand,” said Daniel, turning to look at them. “I mean I don’t want to think about this ever again. This was never my business to begin with. I can’t fly. I can’t see mountains on the moon, and when I wake up on my thirteenth birthday, I will be the same as I was the day before—ordinary.”
“Daniel,” began Rohan, but Daniel didn’t let him finish.
Daniel stood and scooped Georgie into his arms. Georgie began to whine and reach for his toy truck, but Daniel ignored him. He carried him back up the steps and into the house. In the doorway he paused and looked back once more at his friends.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But I’m just a plain, useless kid. I can’t save anybody.”
Then he shut the door and let the noise of the party swallow him up.
Inside, Daniel walked Georgie past crowd after crowd of well-wishers offering sympathetic pats on the head. Georgie loved the extra attention, and since he was too young to understand about Gram’s death, Daniel felt as if he should be carrying little Georgie’s grief around with his own. It would have been the big-brotherly thing to do, but he just didn’t have room for it. Daniel’s own hurt was too big.
He found his mother in the dining room. She was sobbing again, and a few kindly-looking old ladies were rubbing her back and handing her tissues.
“The whole time I just kept wishing there was something I could do,” he heard her say. “I just felt so damn helpless.”
Daniel’s mother never cursed. Not even that mostly harmless word. He turned and left the dining room without letting her know he had been there.
He was on his way back to the kitchen when he saw the older man—tall and strong-looking, standing off in one corner alone. His black suit looked expensive, not like Daniel’s father’s rumpled, all-purpose gray one that he was wearing today.
The man looked at Daniel and smiled. There was something familiar about him—he recognized the white-bearded grin that had greeted him outside Plunkett’s mansion.
“Hey, Daniel,” came a sudden voice from behind him.
Daniel turned and saw Eric coming over to him. Eric wasn’t dressed up like everyone else, and for some reason that pleased Daniel immensely.
“Hey, Eric, I …” Daniel’s words were lost somewhere in his throat.
Eric seemed to understand. He just nodded and put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. When he let go, Daniel looked back to where the well-dressed man had been standing, but he’d disappeared. Plunkett’s man, whoever he was, was gone.
Eric picked up Georgie and bounced him in the air, to Georgie’s squealing delight. “How’re you holding up with all this?” Eric asked, gesturing to the crowds and buffet tables that had invaded Daniel’s home.
“I’m all right, I guess. I wish this were a little less of a party.”
“Yeah, I guess grown-ups deal with death by drinking and eating. My mom did a lot of drinking, I mean a lot of drinking, when my dad died.”
Daniel looked at him in shock. He’d gathered from previous conversations that Eric’s dad wasn’t around anymore, but he’d assumed that Eric’s parents were divorced. It had never occurred to him that Eric’s father might not even be alive.
“Eric, I didn’t know about your dad…. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, it was a long time ago. I was only five when he got sick. Mom tried over the years to get me a new dad. Several. But it turns out her taste in men has gotten worse and worse.”
“So … Bob?” asked Daniel, remembering the blue Chevy parked outside his home.
Eric shrugged. “Another deadbeat. My mom threw him out again last week, but he’ll just come crawling back sooner or later.”
“How do you do it, Eric?”
“Do what?”
“How do you deal with … so much? I mean, I just lost Gram and I am so angry right now that I …” Daniel stopped. Again, he couldn’t go on.
Luckily, he didn’t have to. “Look, it’s not like I never get angry,” said Eric. “Believe me, I do. Sometimes I get so angry I scare myself.
“But, you know, that’s what being a hero is all about, right? Overcoming your fears and failures to help other people, like Johnny Noble did.” Eric smiled. “I know you cringe when I talk like that but it’s true.”
“I don’t cringe,” Daniel protested.
“Yes you do. So does Mollie. You guys are afraid that one day I’ll show up in a cape and tights and that will be it! But the whole idea of being a superhero is not about any of that. It’s about being a better person. And Johnny is an example that shows me what it is to be brave. And I’m not even talking about having powers or being a Super or anything. I’m just talking about being the best person that you can be, and that means not giving in to anger, or fear. It’s what keeps me going, even though there are people like Clay Cudgens out there in the world. And people like Bob. All I’ve got is the hope that I will wake up on my thirteenth birthday the same as I was the day before. I can only do my best and believe that one day I’ll be able to do more.”
“The First Rule—Use Your Powers to Help. Never Hurt,” said Daniel.
“You bet your butt,” said Eric with a smile.
“Ball!” shouted Georgie, pointing to the front yard.
“Sorry, buddy,” answered Eric. “Maybe later.”
Eric handed Georgie back over to Daniel and looked around. “Are Rohan and Mollie here? I’ve been trying to talk to them for days, but it’s like I’m getting the cold shoulder.”
“Last I saw them, they were out back.”
“Oh. And why aren’t you out there with them?”
Daniel almost told him everything, right there and then. Plunkett, the Shroud, the truth about Johnny Noble—everything. But then he thought about what Eric had said, and how his belief in Johnny kept him going every day despite all his troubles, and he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t be the one to shatter all of Eric’s dreams. Someone would probably have to before this was all over, but it wouldn’t be Daniel.
“Why don’t you go on out there,” Daniel said. “I’ve got some stuff to do in here. They’ll be glad to see you. I’m sure you all have a lot to talk about.”
Eric gave Daniel a skeptical look, but he let it slide. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you later?”
“Sure,” answered Daniel, but in truth he wasn’t sure. He’d just made up his mind about something. A few minutes ago he’d been ready to throw it all in, to let the Supers—his friends—struggle on their own. Thinking back on what he’d said to Mollie and Rohan, he grew ashamed.
After everything Eric had been through over the years, he still hadn’t given up. With his power he could have easily gone down the same path Clay had taken. He could’ve become a bully, or worse, and there would’ve been no one to stop him. But Eric decided to use his powers to help people instead, without so much as a thanks.
Use Your Powers to Help.
Daniel watched as Eric headed for the back door, grabbing a handful of white cake on his way out. Alone, Daniel looked around for the well-dressed stranger but couldn’t find him again. He’d disappeared among all the flowers that were piling up in the living room. Any space that wasn’t already occupied by food was now claimed by a bouquet or potted plant.
Across the crowded room he saw that Louisa and Rose had arrived, and the two of them intercepted Eric on his way out back. Daniel couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he saw Eric point to him, and then Louisa gave Daniel a small, sad smile. Daniel smiled b
ack and made his way to greet the two sisters. Today he would suffer through the food and the consoling pats on the back and the awkward small talk, because tomorrow he had a big day ahead of him. Tomorrow he was going back to Plunkett’s mansion. For his friend Eric, for all of them, he would face the Shroud once and for all.
Alone.
Chapter Sixteen
Plunkett’s Story
“Eh? Well, if it isn’t the little fanboy. What can I do for you today, Mr. Corrigan?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Plunkett,” said his fat nurse, scurrying after Daniel. “The little creature just pushed past me and ran!”
Daniel was standing inside the doorway to Plunkett’s library. The little man was in his usual spot, sunk into his overstuffed chair like a turtle in his shell.
“That’s quite all right, Angie. I’ve been expecting another visit from Daniel, haven’t I?”
Daniel reached for his backpack and undid the zipper. Plunkett made no move, but he watched Daniel with a wary fascination.
Daniel plopped the comics from the tree house down in front of Plunkett. Then he tossed the old man’s drawings down next to them.
“You can go now, Angie,” said Plunkett, his eyes only glancing at the bundle of sketches in front of him. “Thank you.”
Angie shot Daniel one last dirty look and then turned on her heels and walked away.
“I get it, Plunkett,” Daniel said after she’d gone. “And I’m here to tell you that it’s over. I don’t want to play your silly game anymore.”
Plunkett was quiet for a moment; then he looked out into the open hallway behind Daniel. “Close the door,” he murmured.
The door was mostly glass, so anyone outside could see everything that was going on in the reading room, but Daniel still felt uneasy about closing off his only escape. Still, he did as he was told. After all, he was here to put a stop to all the attacks.
“So, we’re dropping pretenses, are we?” the old man sighed. “You stop pretending to be a wide-eyed comics fan and I stop pretending to be a doddering old fool? Good. That will make all this much easier.”
Plunkett pulled himself down from his chair with a resigned groan. “Though my mind may not have gone soft, I’m afraid that my body has. I’ll tell you, kid, it’s a drag getting old.”
He shuffled over to a tea cart that had been set up near the reading room’s bay window. “Care for a cup?” he asked. Daniel said nothing.
Plunkett winced in pain as his bones creaked, and his hand shook slightly as he struggled to pour the tea without spilling it. He seemed so infirm, so fragile, that Daniel found himself wondering if he wasn’t crazy for being here. Daniel had seen the creature that was preying upon the children of Noble’s Green; he’d felt its dark power face to face, its strength. This tiny man was barely strong enough to pour a cup of tea. But somehow Plunkett knew about the Shroud; he’d drawn it years before Daniel or any of his friends had even been born. And the most convincing evidence that the old man was involved in all of this was the fact that Daniel felt it in his gut. Maybe it was something in Plunkett’s manner that made him suspicious, maybe it was simple kid’s intuition, but Daniel was sure that the old man was more than he seemed, and Daniel was sick of the lies.
“I saw your man at my house after the funeral yesterday. I recognized him from the last time I was here.”
Plunkett cocked his head. “My man?”
“The one who wears the nice suits. The guy with the beard. I assume that he’s your bodyguard or whatever. And you sent him to my house to spy on me and my friends.”
Plunkett surprised Daniel by not responding immediately. The man normally seemed tickled with his little game playing, but now he appeared genuinely confused. And perhaps a little anxious. When he spoke next, he seemed to be only half talking to Daniel, more interested in some inner argument he was having with himself.
“Well, I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. There is no such gentleman in my employ. It’s true that I have eyes and ears throughout Noble’s Green, but none of them match that description.”
Plunkett sniffed and rubbed his hands together. The matter was apparently settled. He went on, “I was sorry to hear about your grandmother, though. Believe me when I say that she was a special person.”
“You knew my gram?” Daniel asked, cautious.
“I’ve lived here a long time. I know a lot of people. It’s a strange thing to outlive everyone you know….” Plunkett’s shoulders slumped and he got a faraway look in his rheumy eyes as he sipped at his tea. For a moment, Daniel actually felt sorry for the old villain. But then he silently reminded himself who he was really dealing with and what the man had done.
Plunkett recovered. “Now then,” he said, wiping his eyes on his sweater sleeve. “On to business—you’ve found him, have you?”
Plunkett didn’t wait for Daniel’s answer; instead he clapped his hands together as if he’d just won a prize. “I wasn’t sure my clue would work, but I figured that if you were a detective worth your salt, you’d eventually figure it out. I’ve been holding on to those drawings for many, many years, and I was loath to part with them. But it was the best way to make sure you were ready.”
“Ready for what?” asked Daniel, struggling to sound less confused than he really was.
“Why, to battle the Shroud, my boy!”
“I don’t want to fight you,” said Daniel, backing up a step. “I came here to ask you … to reason with you. Please leave my friends alone.”
“Fight me? Fight me? Why, what are you … oh, I see. My, oh my. You think I’m the Shroud?”
Daniel said nothing, but his face told all.
Without warning, Plunkett began to laugh. The old man laughed so hard that he ended up bent over in a coughing fit. “Well, that’s what I get for trying to play it sly, eh? I’ve got you thinking that I’m the Shroud!
“My boy, while I can certainly understand how comforting it would be for you and your super-friends to find out that your archnemesis was really just an infirm old geezer, I’m afraid you’ve got it wrong. I’m no monster. I’m no master criminal. I’m just plain old Herman Plunkett—old man and fool.”
He reached for a second cup from the tea cart. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind about that tea?”
Daniel again refused, but he did allow himself to sit on the old leather footstool, lest he fall over. His mind was spinning, trying desperately to process this revelation. This was just another one of Plunkett’s lies. It had to be.
“Why should I believe you?” asked Daniel.
Plunkett smiled. “Why not? Because it’s easier to believe that I’m really a menacing creature that preys on the innocent children of Noble’s Green, stealing their powers away in the night?”
“B-b-ut,” said Daniel, “if you’re not the Shroud, then how do you know about … my friends?”
“I said I wasn’t the Shroud, Daniel. I never said I was stupid.”
Plunkett wobbled over to a cabinet against the back wall of the reading room and opened it to reveal a wall safe set into the dark wood. He spun the dial a few times and the safe opened with a pressured pop. He withdrew a black leather briefcase.
“Here,” he said, placing the case in front of Daniel. “Take a look.”
Daniel flipped the lid open and saw stacks and stacks of laminated newspaper clippings, Web articles, reports … They were all written within the last few years, and all dealt with the same thing—unexplained, miraculous occurrences within the sleepy little town of Noble’s Green. There were also pictures of every one of the Supers. This was a file on Daniel’s friends.
“It’s all there if you have the eyes to see. Your friends act as if they can go about their business and no one will notice. But over the years, people have noticed, Daniel.”
“You’ve … you’ve been spying on them!”
“I am a very wealthy man. I have the resources. Finding the right people to get me information was never a problem. Oh, I ra
rely used the same person twice—a private detective here, a little bribe there. I didn’t want anyone else to get the whole picture.”
Daniel couldn’t believe it. It was all here, pictures of the tree house, of Rohan and Eric, Louisa and Mollie. Of him, even.
“You had no right!” Daniel said.
Plunkett looked indignant and hurt.
“You know, if you would just listen, you might end up thanking me! All this time that I’ve been investigating your friends, I’ve also been protecting them. I’ve spent a lot of money bribing the right law-enforcement officials to close certain cases early, or to ignore certain reported sightings. I’ve got half the cops in this town convinced that the Air Force is using Mount Noble to test out secret aircraft, and I’ve got the rest thinking that your kids’ supernormal activities are just the pranks of bored university students. But there is only so much that one man can do, and an old one at that. Believe me, it’s been a full-time job keeping up with your friends!”
“What? So you expect me to believe that you are doing all of this out of the kindness of your heart?”
Plunkett hobbled back over to his chair. He scratched at his shriveled, bald head and sighed. “Funny you should mention it,” he said. “Three years ago I was driving along a back road near the mountain when I suffered the first of what would turn out to be several heart attacks. I lost control of the car and wrapped it around an oak tree. When I awoke, the car was on fire. I couldn’t move, I was so weak that I could barely speak and I was about to burn alive.
“Then someone tore the door off the car and lifted me to safety. He didn’t open the door, he tore the metal door off the car! Despite the smoke and the flames, I saw the face of my savior that day. The face of a little boy.”
“Eric,” said Daniel.
Plunkett nodded. “Others might have dismissed what they saw as a hallucination, but I …” Plunkett gestured to the sketches on the floor. “Well, I’ve always believed in the impossible.
“It took me a long time to recover. While I was recuperating, I became obsessed with discovering the identity of my savior. I hired men and I began to follow the clues. I soon realized that there is something wondrous going on in Noble’s Green, just like in my comic books! But there is also something terrible.”