Black and Blue

by Nancy O'Toole Meservier

  Like Renee, I couldn’t help but think.

  “I…you’re making me sound like a politician,” I said.

  “Congratulations, kid. You’re a public figure. Kent is running against you just as much as he’s running against Conway, if not more.”

  “If only we could have stopped this from happening.” I shook my head. “If Kent had never been kidnapped…”

  “Well, unless time travel is one of your abilities, it’s not like we can do anything about that now.”

  “Hmmm. I don’t know. Maybe I should give it a try?”

  “Not funny. Regardless, I know you. You may be young and disturbingly inexperienced, but you’ve got a good heart and a functioning brain. With one exception.”

  “You’re talking about Faultline.” My lips twisted into a frown. “Listen, he’s not—”

  “Oh, I’m sure he has a reasonably tragic backstory, but remember what I said about being aware of the image you project into the world. Because this guy clearly isn’t. It’s why people are still afraid of him and believe that damn comic book. I mean, the guy kidnapped Marty Tong. It’s not like he doesn’t have a track record in that area.”

  “He was trying to protect me,” I said, “Marty knows who I really am.”

  “Now isn’t that chivalrous of him,” Amanda said, her voice rising a note.

  I pressed my lips together in response. Damn. I shouldn’t have told her that.

  “Anyway,” the detective continued, “the way the city is right now, any action from an Empowered person, Costume or Actual, is going to reflect on all of you. Especially with Kent leading the damn charge.”

  “I understand,” I replied, unable to keep the strain out of my voice.

  “And just so we’re clear, our agreement does not extend to him. I don’t care if he feels sorry. That doesn’t change the crimes he’s committed. If I come across him in my city, I’m not going to treat him any differently than any other criminal.”

  “That’s not fair,” I interrupted. “If he hadn’t stopped Calypso—”

  “Given what I’ve heard from the dozens of drones, he had plenty of chances to stop Calypso before he did. Sure, it may have been Calypso that poisoned their minds, but he never raised a finger to stop her in the months that he worked for her. Never protested. Didn’t even try to find help. No, he was complicit. And while that might not hold the same weight as doing the deed himself, that doesn’t change the fact that on some level, he is responsible for what happened to them.”

  I paused, unable to find the proper response.

  “Listen, Dawn,” the detective said with a sigh, “whatever your relationship to this man may be, I can understand why you’d view him differently, given how he’s helped you. But that’s only part of the story. The drones and his role in the benefit kidnappings, those are all things I need to take into account as well. My job involves protecting the people of this city from criminals. Faultline is a criminal. And nothing you say is going to change my mind. You understand?”

  “I…completely,” I said, feeling my stomach sink. We exchanged tense good-byes and I hung up the phone. And for a moment, all I could do was stare at its tiny screen.

  “Fuck,” I said, grabbing my hair with my hands.

  It looked like working with both Alex and Detective Bronson may be more problematic than I had realized.

  Not that I had time to linger over that.

  I may have slept in, but I knew I could make it to my Greek History class if I was quick enough. This meant skipping breakfast, as well as a shower. A sniff test let me know that the latter wouldn’t be that big of a deal, and my mother, in classic mom-mode, attempted to combat the former by shoving a granola bar into my hand as I was running out the door (growing up with a doctor as a mother meant that I was never allowed to skip meals, and that my “just say no to cigarettes” talk came with X-rays of diseased lungs. Fun!). I had the bar shoved into my mouth as I speed-walked down the street, adjusting the straps of my messenger bag on my shoulders.

  The mid-fall morning air was crisp, cutting through my leather jacket and making my scarf more than just a fashion choice. My plan was to take the tram over the bridge then switch out my clothing for another red and black outfit, taking the rooftop-jumping method the rest of the way into the city. I didn’t like to transform too close to my house during the day. As Alex had pointed out, I was awfully vulnerable when I was in Dawn mode. If anyone found out who I really was and managed to catch me off guard…

  “Hey. Hold up there. Miss? Miss?”

  It took a few seconds to register that the voice was intended for me. I felt my feet slow as I chewed and swallowed the last of the granola bar. My mind was torn. It had been weeks since someone had recognized me as the “kidnapped girl,” and even longer than that since a person had been brazen enough to flag me down in the street. Was that the reason, or could it be something more innocent? It wouldn’t be the first time I had made it half-way to the tram stop before I had discovered that I was still wearing my fuzzy slippers. I turned to the speaker, my brain finally kicking in at the last second, filling me in on where I had heard that voice before.

  “Huh,” Riley said, not four feet away from me. “I thought that was you, Red.”

  7

  Alex

  I wasn’t what you’d call a “political person.”

  I mean, why bother? Politicians were nothing more than a bunch of rich assholes who would say anything to get themselves elected, then proceed to do whatever they wanted, regardless of their promises. I should know. I lived west of the river in a neighborhood where schools were always in danger of losing their accreditation, the streets were covered in potholes and lined with trash, and most people smaller than me didn’t feel comfortable walking down the streets late at night. Yet every two years we voted in the same types of assholes who promised more money in our paychecks and a better life.

  So, visiting a politician’s campaign headquarters was a new one for me.

  It had been easy to find Kent’s place. A quick Google search had pulled up a location in the center third of Bailey City. When I had arrived on scene, I hadn’t even needed to check the address on my phone. The obnoxious political signs in the window made things obvious. I exited the car with a wince. As predicted, I had woken up with a sea of bruises across my back. By some miracle, I didn’t appear to have any serious injuries, but that didn’t make walking comfortable.

  My armor, on the other hand? I was almost afraid to give a good look at the back plates.

  I stepped inside the front door, half expecting to see Kent standing over an official-looking desk, barking out orders. I figured I would blend in with the crowd, take in the information, and then move on before anyone saw me.

  I instantly realized how stupid that idea had been. Kent was nowhere to be found. But there were plenty of people. A bunch of college-aged students stood around a table, organizing paper flyers. A handful more sat at computer stations. Against the left wall, a line of retirees talked on phones in fake cheerful voices.

  “In fact, we have a rally coming up in a few days,” a woman with short, curly hair said into the phone, a wide smile plastered across her face.

  I turned back toward the entrance without even realizing it.

  And then someone walked right into me.

  I pivoted toward the source, murmuring an apology. It was a woman who looked around my age but was nowhere near my height. I doubted she was even five feet tall. Her bright-red curls bounced as she moved, and she clutched her tablet tightly to her chest. She blinked, probably startled to find a broad-shouldered, six-foot-two muscle bound-lug standing in her path.

  “Crap! Sorry,” she said.

  “No. I’m the one standing in the middle of a busy room,” I said, smiling. “Just looking to help out.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh! The pallets!”

  “Right, right,” I agreed.

  “I’m sorry. Peter said he was sending people over to help, but I didn
’t think it would be until this afternoon.”

  She frowned, looking down at her tablet. I caught sight of what looked like a calendar.

  “My fault,” I said, raising both hands. “I’ve never been good at keeping my schedule straight.”

  The woman looked horrified at the thought.

  “I can come back later?” I pointed back over my shoulder at the door.

  “No! That’s fine. I just…need to find the keys. I think Maggie had them last? Or was that Bruce…”

  “Take your time,” I said, nodding toward a nearby table. “I’ll go grab some coffee.”

  “Great,” she said, relief plain on her face as she walked away.

  Here’s the thing about being a big guy. People look at you and they automatically assume “dumb and strong.” And given that my vocabulary isn’t exactly populated by SAT words, they aren’t likely to change their minds. It can suck. But other times, it’s better to go with the flow.

  I made my way over to the counter, where one of those fancy-ass coffee makers sat. I pulled out a tiny plastic cup and looked down at it in confusion.

  Okay, so maybe “dumb and strong” wasn’t the most inaccurate way to describe me.

  Christ, what was I doing here, anyway? The image of Dawn, the guilt on her face as she had asked me if we had made a mistake with Marty, stood out in my mind. But why was I thinking about her? If anything, our conversation yesterday made it obvious that we didn’t have much of a future. The gap between us was too far for her to cross.

  “Need help?”

  I turned to the new voice and froze.

  It was Sara, a nurse who, up until a month ago, had been one of Calypso’s most valuable drones. I almost didn’t recognize the woman out of her scrubs.

  “Ah sure,” I said. “It’s just…To be honest, I just expected a coffeepot.”

  “Welcome to the future,” Sara said with a warm smile. “Let me show you.”

  She reached for the cup, her brown hands visibly shaking. I watched as it slipped from her fingers.

  “Whoops,” she said at the same moment I said, “Here. Let me.”

  I ducked down and picked it up from the floor. I moved to pass it to her, then hesitated. Was I just inviting her to drop it again? Fortunately, her hands were steadier this time. She took the cup and turned to the machine.

  “Sorry about that,” she said. “The shaking comes and goes. An unfortunate side effect of the medication…they think. We’re kind of in new territory here.”

  “You were a drone,” I said lamely.

  “Ah…yes.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Although I can’t say I like that word all that much, or the person who originated it.”

  Or the person who originated it. Who happened to be standing right next to you. Damn, I knew that Amity had erased my face from the minds of the drones, but it was still weird to see the effects.

  “Anyway, I’ve been called worse. And this should just take a minute.” She placed the cup in the machine and closed it tight. “Easy peasy.”

  “Thanks.” I reached up to scratch the back of my head. “And sorry about calling you that. I didn’t realize—”

  “Oh, it’s all right. I blame the media for popularizing it. In some ways, it’s not inaccurate. By the end of it all, we were completely controlled by our loyalty.”

  She shook her head and smiled sadly, tucking her trembling hands in the front pockets of her sweater.

  “But…not anymore, right?” I said. “I had heard that the best doctors in Bailey City were working on it.”

  Christ. Now I was babbling. Why was it that something that looked cute on Dawn felt ridiculous on me?

  And why was I so surprised to find Sara here? Kent had several drones working on his campaign. Sara certainly wouldn’t be the only one. I looked over the kids sorting files and the gray-haired ladies making phone calls. Would I even recognize them? Calypso had kept close to fifty followers, and I certainly couldn’t have named them all.

  But you could bet they would recognize Faultline.

  “And there you go.”

  I blinked as Sara placed a steaming Styrofoam cup in my hand. It tipped slightly, and a drop of coffee burned my skin. I winced.

  “Oh, dear,” Sara said. “You okay, hon?”

  “No, I’m fine.” I said. “I’m tougher than I look.”

  “Well, that’s saying something, big guy,” Sara said, punching me lightly on the shoulder.

  God, I wish she had taken a serious swing at me.

  “Noel, please. Stop.”

  Noel?

  I froze, turning my head until I was looking at the back of the room, about ten feet away from us. Two college-aged kids came in through a doorway, clearly mid conversation. One of them was a tall Asian girl, so stunning that, had it been under normal circumstances, I would have been struck dumb. So, the fact that it was her partner who really grabbed my attention said a lot.

  It was Noel White.

  It was impossible to forget that distinct profile. The kid was tall and lanky, and looked kinda ridiculous with his curly hair and big hands and feet. Out of all of Calypso’s drones, he was the one I had worked the most closely with, planning out the benefit, talking to him about his problems with his parents, even beginning to teach him how to box. At the end of it all, I had come to see him as a friend.

  It was embarrassing how little I had thought about him over the past few weeks.

  He looked pretty much the same. All except for the expression on his face. His lips were twisted into a scowl, his disgust clear to everyone in the room.

  Except, perhaps, to the pretty girl who was trying to get his attention.

  “Noel,” she said. “Ashlee and I are both worried about you.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine. Mr. Kent just has me busy. That and my art—”

  “But you’ve been ignoring our texts.”

  “Well, maybe you should have taken that as a sign,” he snapped.

  The pretty girl flinched.

  “I’m…I’m sorry,” she replied.

  As she turned away from him and toward the exit, I watched Noel’s face fall.

  “Renee,” he began.

  It was hard not to be shocked in that moment. It felt wrong. It wasn’t like Noel wasn’t an unemotional guy. I had seen him frustrated before, and scared. Hell, I had even seen him angry. But he had never been mean.

  It’s why I didn’t pick up on how his face hardened when he saw me. He squared his shoulders, then headed right in my direction, stopping less than a foot away from me.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Noel, honey.” Sara reached out and rested a firm hand on his arm. “There’s no need to be upset. This man here…What did you say your name was, hon?”

  “Alex,” Noel said, his voice a low hiss.

  Oh, fuck.

  Everyone else who had worked with Calypso may have forgotten who I was, but it was clear that at least one person’s memory was completely intact.

  Thanks a lot, Amity.

  “Oh,” Sara turned and looked to me. “Do you know each other?”

  I’ll say.

  “Listen,” I said, looking around. “Maybe we should take this outside.”

  “Why?” Noel said. “Afraid I might say something you’d want to keep secret?”

  “Hey there.” I raised both my hands, wishing to God he had said that part a little bit softer.

  “Noel, what are you doing out here?”

  The three of us jumped as the redhead from before appeared next to us.

  “I told you I needed to see you right away. You too, Sara. Mr. Kent’s on the phone.” The words tumbled out of her mouth at top speed. “He wants to speak to the two of you, and Barry, right now.”

  “Where’s Barry?” Sara asked.

  “I can’t find him!” Her voice raised to a high squeak.

  “Don’t worry, hon. We’ll find him. He’s probably out for a smoke. Let’s
meet up in Kent’s office in five minutes. Noel, why don’t you go and find Barry. Noel?”

  I watched her grip tighten on Noel’s arm the second time she said his name. He didn’t react. Didn’t even move. His eyes were focused on mine in an angry glare. His jaw set.

  And then he relaxed, just a fraction, and turned away.

  “Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll go get him.”

  She offered him a thank you, which he ignored, walking back to the same entrance he had used a minute before, slamming the door behind him.

  Sara let out a long sigh.

  “Oof,” she said. “Sorry about that one. You see…well, all of us are dealing with the situation differently. And that boy? He’s a live wire, that’s for sure. Shocked that we managed to convince him to join Kent’s campaign.”

  “Is that good for him?” I asked. “Getting involved in politics, I mean.”

  Sara’s face darkened, and she looked away.

  “Better than sitting alone in some hospital room, nothing but your own thoughts to keep you company.” She spoke in a low tone, then paused, brightening again. “We appreciate you coming out to help us, Alex. Sorry to leave you alone, but it looks like I’m needed.” She chuckled. “You’d think I’d expect that by now.”

  We exchanged good-byes, and she headed to an office on the other side of the room. Kent’s office, I assumed.

  I turned and headed toward the exit.

  I wasn’t sure how long I remained in my car.

  Every few minutes, I would think about going back in. Find that redhead with her tablet. Offer to move a few pallets. Maybe drop in a question about the new Costume here and there. But every time I reached for the car door, all I could see was Sara’s trembling hands or Noel’s glare. And every time I did, I felt guilty.

  It was stupid, of course. I hadn’t made them crazy. Wouldn’t have done that for all the money in the world. That had been Calypso.