She suffers more from our emotions than we do, Mascot realized.
She leaned over to set a hand on the girl’s arm to comfort her. “I’ll make them stop in a minute, promise,” she assured Kid, hoping to be heard over the girl’s finger earplugs.
Overdrive looked across the table at Mascot. “If you’re going to be on the team, you should know this stuff, too. The only reason they didn’t eliminate her was because they had already accepted Nato onto the hero team, even though his powers were more lethal and unpredictable than hers.”
It hadn’t been long ago that Nato had been a member of the Wardens. Mascot remembered him well enough because he had been the darling son of a powerful Republican senator. Fair hair, blue eyes, star quarterback, that sort of thing. They were afraid of the public reaction if they didn’t extend the same treatment to everybody, no matter what their skin color.
“They were scared of the racial shitstorm if they didn’t do the same for the black girl,” Noire supplied.
“Well, it worked for the Chinese girl.” The dark joke was already out of her mouth before Mascot could stop herself.
To her surprise, Noire gave a small laugh. “Go figure—you’re on probation, too.”
Mascot’s face broke into a grin beneath the cover of her helmet. “Yeah, right.”
“Yeah, but Noire’s on the highest level of probation or something,” Overdrive told her. “If she hurts anyone at all without orders, she’s in deep shit.”
Waiting around for orders is going to suck if shit gets real.
“You know who’s about to get into shit?” All anger was gone from Noire’s voice. “Our waitress. Where is she? I’m hungry, and Kid wants fries.”
“And wings,” Kid piped up, obviously glad the conversation had changed.
Chris leaned out of the booth to find a server, pulling off her helmet so she could see where everyone was. Unfortunately, the first eye she caught belonged to one of the local teenagers, who glared at her with hatred written all over his face. The girl beside him was busy typing something into her smartphone. Chris shifted her gaze to the cash register area where a waitress in a green uniform and a white apron cowered by the coffee machine.
“Hey, can we get some fries?” Chris called over.
“And wings?” Kid added.
The waitress didn’t react, even though Chris was sure she heard them. She stared at the woman until she came over to take their order.
Before the food arrived, the bistro door swung open and more than a dozen teenagers poured into the diner. Their faces all wore identical expressions of defiance and anxiety. None of them carried any visible weapons, though several had their hands tucked into their pockets and there were suspicious bulges in garments that should have been flat. The group’s collective attention was on the Wardens. A guy in his early twenties stepped closer to challenge them with his scowl.
“We don’t like mutants in our town,” he said, his French accent apparent even through his clenched teeth. “Get the fuck out of here.”
4.5 Investigation
Grand Marronnier, Canada
Saturday, the 9th of June 2012
9:43 p.m.
The teens stood in the diner’s doorway, arms crossed over their chests. The four teenagers who had been sitting at a table got up from their chairs to join the hostile newcomers. Because the waitress wasn’t anywhere to be seen, Chris suspected she was hiding away in the back room.
“They’re just trying to look tough. They’re scared,” Kid murmured.
If they’re scared, why are they making a scene? Did someone put them up to this? Chris clenched her teeth in frustration. We should have had pizza delivered to our rooms. She saw Noire and Overdrive exchange glances. Probably they thought the same thing.
Something told her to pull the helmet over her head, so she did. Another barrier between her face and those guys suddenly reassured her.
“Keep your head down,” she told Kid before getting up from the padded bench. Almost as an afterthought, she projected a protective force field over the young Empath. Her power responded without conscious effort. Her danger sense hadn’t flared yet, but if her past experiences were anything to go by, that could change in an instant.
Noire got up from the booth to stand beside Mascot. Some of the locals reacted by stepping back, visibly tensing.
“Is there a problem here?” Noire’s eyes narrowed behind the eyeholes of her monster mask.
Now it was the local group’s turn to exchange glances. Most of the group had the twitchy, nervous look of meerkats just waiting for the signal to dive for cover.
“We don’t want any freaks in our town,” the twenty-something at the front of the group snarled. He was in a plaid jacket with the attitude of a leader. “Go eat somewhere else.” Murmurs of agreement were heard behind him.
“Hey, relax,” Mascot said. “We already ordered, but we’ll get it to go. All right?”
“We don’t feed demons!” a girl from the back of the group yelled.
“I’m no fucking demon,” Noire snarled in a dangerous low voice.
Mascot was well aware many of the media outlets used the d-word when referring to Noire. She imagined that the girl had resorted to calling herself Monster Momma out of spite. Since she had done her own share of stupid, rebellious shit, Mascot could relate, though she knew this wasn’t the time or place for it.
She shot Noire a firm look in hopes she would get the hint. Don’t do anything to make things worse. The last thing they needed was for the Darkshaper’s shadow to make an appearance.
“Hey, can we all just calm down?” Overdrive flashed his most charming smile at the locals. “We’re here to help track a serial killer. We want to make sure the guy can’t hurt anyone else.”
So much for not tipping off the media, Mascot thought, but she had bigger things to worry about at the moment.
“There’s no serial killers in this town,” the guy in the plaid jacket said in his thick Quebecois accent. “Just you guys.”
“Yeah,” a lanky youth in jogging pants and a stained sweatshirt agreed. He stood at the back of the group near the exit. “No one’s been killed here in decades, and we like it like that, so go away.”
“Go burn in hell,” another guy’s voice added. His French accent made it sound like ‘El.’
The next thing Mascot knew, Noire took an angry step at the crowd. “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone,” she seethed. “It’s in the Book of John, you backwooders.”
“You read the Bible?” one of the girls asked.
“Probably know it better than you do.”
“That don’t mean you’re not evil, Noire,” the leader in the plaid jacket retorted, disgust in his voice. “Even your name refers to your dark evil soul.”
“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined,” Noire quoted again. “Isaiah 9:2.”
“That don’t mean it applies to freaks like you!” someone shouted.
“Okay, never mind the takeaway bags,” Mascot muttered. She looked over her shoulder at the other Wardens. “Let’s just get out of here, all right?”
Kid eagerly clambered out of the booth. Overdrive was right behind her. He put a hand on Noire’s elbow, leading her to the exit. The Darkshaper glowered at him but walked with him all the same. Mascot followed right behind, leading Kid by the hand. It was the only part of the girl that stuck out of the transparent barrier Mascot had created around her.
The gang stepped aside as the four Wardens neared the exit, clearing an exaggerated path for them. Noire shook Overdrive’s hand away and stomped ahead through the doorway first, too furious to hold the door for anyone else.
“You’re possessed, you freaking black demon,” the guy in the plaid jacket said just as the door closed behind her. “Go see a priest or something.”
Mascot peered ahead at Noire through the glass door,
praying her teammate hadn’t heard the final insult.
She had.
Noire froze. All of a sudden, Mascot’s danger sense kicked in. She’d felt uneasy before, but what she got now
swelling darkness, cutting deeper than knives
was way worse. Her danger sense recognized the source of the threat: Noire. If the Darkshaper lost control of her shadow, it would cut the people in there to pieces in an instant. Somewhere beyond the mental assault of mutilated figures writhing in agony, Mascot heard a young girl’s voice calling her name. Emily, she realized after a moment. The voice pulled her mind back in the right direction.
She systematically processed all of the overwhelming sensory feedback according to priorities the same way she practiced in her prison cell. Her eyes and ears took precedence over her mind’s eye, and the vision fragments faded enough to let her get an idea of what was going on around her.
Noire stood motionless on the other side of the diner door, but her appearance had changed. Small tentacles of twitching darkness had emerged from her limbs, and they were growing each second. A lump of concentrated darkness stretched itself into existence above her mask, open like an elongated mouth. A multitude of blurred teeth lined the twisting edges of it. Somewhere underneath, Noire was still the same, though Mr. Black’s shadowy body shrouded her own.
Just inside the diner entranceway, the other Wardens watched the transformation with fearful faces while the locals cowered at the sight. Mascot heard swears, screams and sobs reverberate off the wood-paneled walls.
She threw a force field around Noire to contain the writhing shadowy strands thrashing and growing all around the Darkshaper. Now huge and lashing dark tentacles above Noire’s head punctured the force field in a dozen places, preventing it from sealing the Darkshaper inside. Mascot fell to her knees, overwhelmed with a wave of pain due to the effort of commanding her power.
This isn’t working, she realized. If she didn’t get the situation under control, the locals…
puddles of blood, seething agony
…were going to die.
Mascot turned to Overdrive. “O,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “The lights.”
Overdrive turned to look at her, panic written all over his face.
“Get the lights,” she repeated. “Quick.”
This time he understood. Every single light bulb flared, both inside the diner and outside in the parking lot. All of the hanging lamps, the damaged diner billboard, the headlights of parked cars and motorbikes came alight in an instant, shining with the intensity of stadium lights. Even the dusty string of ancient Christmas lights, disconnected from any power source, flickered on and exploded in a shower of colored glass. Their surroundings were illuminated as if by daylight.
Noire’s shadow shrank back from the illumination, recoiling until it was reduced to a faint silhouette outlining her shape.
Mascot made another attempt to project a force field over her teammate. This time the retreating darkness became trapped inside the bubble she created. She felt its presence as a cold tingle whenever one of its twitching movements collided with her energy. Mr. Black was still furious, and it wanted out.
Regardless, the threat level was contained enough that Mascot’s danger sense faded. She was able to think again.
She surveyed the scene to see that Mr. Black’s appearance had sent the locals scattering to the farthest reaches of the diner, cowering in the corners and hiding beneath tables. Two of the girls hugged each other and sobbed, their shoulders shaking. Three smartphones were held up in the air, recording the whole scene.
That was a fucking disaster. Mascot rubbed her helmet in dismay, wishing that her team had stayed at the hotel to chill in their rooms. She was certain that no one had gotten hurt, but it didn’t make her feel any better. This wasn’t over yet.
Every couple of seconds another light bulb exploded, leaving the scene a little darker than before. Each shower of sparks resulted in more and more panic among the locals. Kid inched closer to Overdrive and buried her face in his chest.
Mascot glanced out through the front door at Noire. The girl was barely recognizable beneath the squirming appendages of darkness thrashing within the confines of the force field.
Sorry, Noire. We’ll figure out how to calm that thing down.
Mascot exchanged a look with Overdrive over Kid’s head. If they couldn’t get this situation under control, and fast, all hell would break loose.
“Everyone, just calm down,” Mascot told the locals. “No one’s going to get hurt, I promise.”
Well, I hope.
No one looked like they were listening, but that was okay. She couldn’t blame them.
“Come on, let’s go,” Overdrive said. Kid nodded, her eyes wide behind the holes of her adorable werekitten mask.
Mascot followed them out the door without a glance. Noire had backed away from the diner, and now stood near the edge of the parking lot, but she still teemed with angry shadowy tendrils.
The car headlights were now blowing out one by one, just like the light bulbs. Chris felt the shadow creature’s struggles against the force field barrier intensify as the light receded, each impact sending a shiver down her spine.
“Mr. Black won’t go away until she stops being so upset,” Kid said to her.
Psychology, Chris thought. What would Mrs. Clarence do?
“So, um…” she began, racking her brain to find something reassuring to say. “The good thing is, no one got hurt, so all you have to do is calm down so we can go home.”
“Righty-o! All’s well that ends well!” Kid added with forced cheer.
As if on cue, the lights on the damaged diner billboard surged and popped with a loud cracking sound. Despite the protection of her force field, Kid covered her head with her arms as the sparks rained around her.
Mascot shot a pointed look at Overdrive.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, they’re right,” he told Noire. “We’ll just explain what happened to the boss, and then get back to chasing the bad guy.”
“It’s not your fault people keep being mean,” Kid added.
The faint sound of police sirens sounded in the distance.
“They don’t even know me,” Noire said, more sad than angry.
“They’re just afraid of what they don’t understand, and people say stupid things when they’re scared,” Mascot said. “But let’s not scare each other, okay? You’re freaking Emily out.”
That did the trick. The shadowy projection dissipated, and within moments Mascot’s danger sense stopped tingling. She exhaled a puff of breath she didn’t realize that she held. The sirens in the distance grew closer.
“Can I come give you a hug?” Kid asked Noire. “I really wanna.” She flashed a sweet little girl’s smile in the fading light.
Mascot dismissed Noire’s force field so Kid could approach and wrap her arms around the Darkshaper.
“Come on,” Overdrive said as Kid let go. “Let’s get the hell out of here and order some pizza.”
Mascot found herself actually smiling a bit. “Sounds good to me,” she said.
***
The Counselor waited for them in front of the hotel, wearing an expression that didn’t bode well. His lips were pulled tight and thin, matching the furrow above his furiously focused eyes. He held a cell phone to his ear, though he wasn’t doing most of the talking. His lips barely moved.
“Looks like someone’s already told him,” Overdrive muttered.
At least the police didn’t stop them on the way home. Mascot figured the officers had opted to stop at the diner to take care of those panicked kids instead, or maybe the cops were scared of the ‘freaks’ in their town, too.
“We can explain,” Overdrive said.
The Counselor held up a palm to order silence. “They’re here now,” he said into his cell phone. “Yes, all five of them.” There was a pause as the person on the other end of the line responded. “Okay. Bye,” the Counselor said
before flipping his phone shut with a snap. He jerked on the hotel’s front door, and held it open for them. “Inside,” he commanded.
Mascot followed Overdrive, Kid, and Noire through the doorway. Noire’s head was ducked as she shuffled, making her look smaller and meeker than usual.
The five of them trouped up the stairs to the private rooms. “Everybody in here,” the Counselor commanded, unlocking the door to the room at the top of the stairs.
Noire and Kid entered the room with Mascot and Overdrive following behind, reluctant. All four of them perched along one edge of the feather bed, elbow to elbow.
“That was the Canadian Police on the phone. They’ll want to hear back from Mr. Turner within the hour,” the Counselor told them.
“Sorry,” Kid began. “It’s just, there were these mean Canadian kids—”
The Counselor held up a palm again, cutting her off. “All of you stay put.” He took two steps back to the door. “I’ve got a few phone calls to make before this situation gets any worse.” With that, the Wardens’ leader stepped into the hallway and closed the door, the sound of the deadbolt locking behind him.
None of the Wardens said anything for a long moment. Emily was the first to take off her helmet and put it on the ground near her feet. Chris and Peter followed, resuming their own personas. Noire stood with a jolt. She crossed her arms across her chest and took position beside the door, staring at nothing in particular.
“It wasn’t my fault,” she said, defending herself with newfound fervor. “I never asked those backwooders to pay me any attention.”
Chris was all too familiar with the shitty feeling that came with getting in trouble. Watching Noire chew on her lip and dig her nails into her costumed forearms brought back all kinds of unpleasant memories.
“Don’t worry,” Emily reassured her, beaming a thousand-watt smile.
“Right,” Chris said, frowning. “We’re in this together. They can’t take all of us off the team.”
Peter nodded. “Mr. Turner and the Counselor will get over it. They always do.”
Noire’s gaze fell to the wood-planked floor, and her shoulders slumped along with it. “It’s just, my mama’s already brought me to a priest and everything. Nothing worked. I’m still a freak, but I ain’t no demon.”
Superluminary (Powered Destinies Book 1) Page 37