by H. D. Gordon
“What are you doing?” he asked.
I snapped my jaw shut, floundering for words. “I, uh, what are you doing?” I said. “I mean, I, uh,” I shoved the bag of repayment food into his hands. “Here,” I said. I turned to retreat, shutting my eyes as I did so as if to turn a blind eye to my own embarrassment. He didn’t say anything as I scurried back to my apartment and shut the door, but I could feel his hazel eyes burning my back the whole way.
Once inside, I slumped back against my door, and then karate chopped the air out of surprise when something vibrated in my pocket.
“What the heck?” I said, startled before remembering the phone Sam had given me. Reaching into my pocket, I removed the device and answered it.
“Hey,” said Sam’s voice on the other end.
“Hey,” I replied.
“Can I come over?” she asked. “I got something I want to show you.”
“Sure,” I said. “I just bought some food. I’ll make dinner.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“You bought dinner last night. I’m paying you back.”
After a little more convincing, she agreed and said she was going to catch a cab right over. Twenty minutes later, we were both in my apartment, slurping down some spaghetti I threw together.
“What did you want to show me?” I asked, once we’d both had our fill.
Sam hopped up and grabbed the backpack she’d brought over. Digging in the small pocket, she removed something and tossed it at me quickly.
I reached up and snatched it out of the air, staring down at it.
“Put it in your ear,” she said.
I did as she asked. “A communication device?”
Sam went to the other side of the tiny apartment and removed a tablet from her backpack, plugging a headset into it and sticking the receiver in her ear. “That’s right,” she said, her voice coming from the tiny ear bud. “It also has a tracker.”
“Pretty cool,” I said. “But can’t we do the same thing with cellphones?”
Sam looked at me like this was a silly question. “Yeah,” she said, “but you can’t do your ninja moves with a cellphone in your hand, can you? This way, I can be in constant communication with you while you’re out in the field.”
“Out in the field?”
Sam nodded.
I sighed, choosing my next words carefully. “Sam… I want to help people with my abilities, but I’m not sure what I can really do. I wasn’t exactly trained to be a vigilante.”
“No?” she said. “Then what were you trained for? Certainly not to be kicked out into the world to live like an ordinary person. You’re not ordinary. You’re extraordinary. Just like me, which is why we have a higher moral responsibility than others to do what’s right.”
If not from her aura, I could tell just by her face that Sam believed this. I couldn’t say I really disagreed, either. It was dangerous, reckless even, but also somehow rang of truth.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked.
Sam was digging through her backpack again, pulling out an array of devices, including a laptop, which she set up beside her tablet.
“We’ll start small,” she said, and grinned. “Like a test drive, right?”
I nodded, my adrenaline kicking up at the thought of going out on some sort of mission. I’d forgotten how much I craved such a thing, and could feel my blood rushing warm through my veins.
“Okay,” I agreed.
Sam pumped a fist. “Yes!” she said. “I’m a huge nerd, so you don’t understand how cool this is for me. It’s like being friends with Batman.”
“Except he’s a guy… and rich… and human… I’m really nothing like Batman. I wouldn’t particularly object to a cape, though. Except it might prohibit my movements.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” Sam said. She reached into her bag again and tossed me a simple black mask that would go around my eyes and over my nose, leaving my mouth exposed. “You should keep your hood up, and wear that,” she said.
I looked down at the mask. “I’m not dressing up as Zorro,” I said.
Sam rolled her eyes. “Not Zorro, dude… way cooler than Zorro. I haven’t thought of a name yet, but I will, just give me a little time.”
“A name?”
Sam slapped her forehead in feigned exasperation. “Oh my God, Aria, you act like you’ve never contemplated becoming a masked vigilante before. Your superhero name, of course. You have to have one.”
“What’s wrong with Aria? I like Aria.”
“I like Aria, too,” Sam said, “but that’s your public alias. You gotta have a superhero alias. I mean, duh.”
I couldn’t help a laugh. I hadn’t known Sam long, but in the time I had known her, I’d never seen her this excited. An edge of shadow always touched her aura, as it did with all those who’d lost someone they loved, but it was less now.
Feeling like a bit of a buttwipe, I slipped the mask over my eyes and pulled my jacket’s hood over my head. “Gotta tell you,” I said, “I feel absolutely ridiculous right now.”
Sam was grinning so big I feared her smile might split her face. “Well, you look badass. I wouldn’t mess with you.”
“I’m not so sure grown men will be quite as intimidated, but thanks.”
“And that’ll be their mistake, won’t it?”
Now a smile was pulling up my own lips. “All right,” I said. “I’m in. So what’s the plan?”
CHAPTER 19
I stood at the window, my fire escape ten feet higher than the building beside mine. Sam sat cross-legged on my bed, a laptop open in front of her.
She pushed her glasses up her nose, and I could tell she was nervous. That made two of us.
“Ready?” she asked.
I nodded, running my hand over the magic staff that was tucked in my waistband behind my back. “Ready,” I said.
Her blue eyes lingered on me a moment, and then they went to the screen in front of her. “Okay. There’s an armed robbery going down two blocks north, on 47th and Brown. Just popped up on the blotter. Think you can get there before the boys in blue?”
Flashing her a smile, I pushed the window open and braced myself in the frame. “I guess we’ll find out,” I said, and jumped out into the pleasant night air.
My heart was beating fast in my chest, my blood rushing through my veins, as I climbed atop the fire escape ledge. Then I leapt over to the next building, landed with a perfect roll, and took off at a run toward 47th and Brown, my feet pounding concrete and a stupid smile on my face.
It felt so good to be doing something again, so freeing to be using my speed, my natural abilities. It felt good to have a direction, because lately I’d been so very lost.
I arrived at the scene less than two minutes later, listening to Sam hoot and holler in my ear as she no doubt tracked my movements on her computer screen.
“Dude,” she said, her voice crackling in the ear bud. “You’re friggin’ fast.”
“Gotta concentrate now, Sam,” I said, and she fell silent.
I spotted the liquor store that was being held up across the street. Through the store’s glass front windows, I saw the terrified clerk and the masked gunman standing before him. The clerk was a middle-aged, balding man of Indian descent, and he was currently emptying the register of its money.
“I’m going in,” I said, pulling my staff out and enacting the magic so that it grew to its full size.
“Be careful, Aria,” Sam said, and in her voice, I could hear the worry. It’d be a lie to say it didn’t feel good to have someone concerned for me.
But Sam had nothing to worry about, because I was confident I could more than handle this situation.
At least, I hoped I could. Swallowing hard and gripping my staff, I crossed the street and entered the liquor store. As soon as the door opened, there was a small chime, and both the gunman and the clerk turned their heads and looked at me.
I held the staff behind my back and held up my
free hand. “Woah,” I said, as the masked gunman swung the weapon toward me.
The looks on their faces were classic. I can only imagine what I looked like to them. A girl in a Zorro mask with a black jacket and combat boots walking into an armed robbery as though it were a sunny day at the park. I had to admit it was peculiar, if not kind of funny.
“Who the hell are you?” asked the man with the gun.
“I’m nobody,” I said, taking a deep breath and dropping the guard I always kept up to keep out the emotions of others. The clerk’s and the gunman’s auras and feelings became so raw to me that I had to clench my teeth to keep my eyes from watering.
“Well, get the hell outta here before I put a bullet in you,” he snapped.
I took a slow step forward, my free hand still held out in front of me, palm up. The liquor store was tiny, and there was only four feet between the counter and door. Which meant there was only about three feet between the gunman and me.
He bit his lip, shook his head. He wasn’t on drugs or alcohol, which was good.
I put all my will into my voice. “You don’t want to shoot me,” I said.
“Doesn’t mean I wo—”
Moving with lightning fast speed, I seized the arm holding the Glock and twisted. Out of pain and reflex, just as I’d known it would, his fingers spread open and the gun clattered to the floor.
He wasted no time in taking a swing at me, but I ducked the clumsy blow easily and threw all my force into a punch to his solar plexus that knocked the air out of him in a rush of foul breath.
Kicking the gun toward the clerk, I rapped the guy on his back with my staff, as he was still bent double from my previous strike, and he fell flat to his stomach with a grunt of pain.
“Stay down,” I said, but of course, he didn’t, and I had to whack him over the head with my staff—not too hard, of course, I’d been trained to incapacitate, not kill—and his lights went out just as I’d known they would, like the flip of a switch.
Through the blood rushing through my ears, I could hear sirens in the distance, and right on cue, Sam spoke in my ear. “Police are thirty seconds out,” she said.
I turned to go, but the clerk said, “This is the third time my shop has been hit by this scumbag since June. The police never arrive until after and haven’t been able to catch him... Thank you.”
The feeling these words made swirl through my chest was intense, heady, and looking back, I should have known that such a feeling could be highly addictive. As it was, I nodded at the shop owner, and high-tailed it out of there.
Five minutes later, I was climbing back in my window. Once inside, Sam nearly tackled me with a hug.
“Thank God,” she breathed in my ear. “I don’t think we should do that anymore.”
“What?” I said, still floating on my high. “That was amazing. I totally stopped that guy. You should’ve seen it.”
She tapped the little device in her ear. “I heard it, and I dang near had a heart attack worrying over you. When he said he would shoot you… God, I was so worried!”
I pushed my hood off my head and pulled the mask off, shutting the window behind me. “Then you heard what the store owner said, right? That guy has been on the loose for a while, and I totally handled his ass.”
Sam was quiet a moment, still not totally convinced. Somehow, the roles had flipped. Instead of her trying to persuade me, I was the one persuading her. And I might have used a tiny bit of my “suggestive voodoo”, as she liked to call it.
I took her hands into mine, holding her gaze. “It means a lot to me that you’re worried. It means you care what happens to me, and I’m not sure there’s a single person left in all the worlds I can say that about… but you were right, Sam. We are extraordinary. And that means we have a higher responsibility than most others to use our gifts for good.”
Sam’s lips pursed, but I could tell from her aura that she was leaning my way again. “Don’t throw my words back at me, Aria,” she joked, and her face grew serious once more. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. It’s one thing to watch this stuff on TV, or read about it in comic books, but it’s a whole other thing to have someone you care for putting their life on the line.”
I gave her my most charming smile, and she couldn’t help returning it with one of her own, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
“We’ll start small, remember?” I said. “I promise I won’t take on anything I can’t handle? Cool?”
Sam hesitated. After a moment, she nodded. “Cool,” she said.
Looking back now, it’s almost funny how foolish we’d been. But we’d find out soon enough.
CHAPTER 20
Sam and I both agreed that stopping the armed robbery was enough vigilante-ing for our first night. Also, tomorrow was Monday, and we both needed to be at school in the morning, so I walked her home and then headed back to my apartment, getting there and back without incident.
I showered, brushed my teeth, read a little bit, but found I couldn’t sleep. Instead of my insomnia being due to depression, however, it was now due to excitement.
How could I sleep when I felt as though some color had finally been added to what had become my constantly gray world? I felt invigorated, looking forward to something for the first time in a long time.
At some point, though, I did finally pass out, and when I awoke the next morning, rubbing my eyes and checking my watch, I found that I’d overslept. If I wanted to get to school on time, I’d need to be out the door in ten minutes.
Hopping out of bed like a startled jackrabbit, I rushed into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. Then I threw on some jeans, a t-shirt, and my Vans, grabbed my backpack, my skateboard, and my black jacket, and was out the door.
As I was locking my apartment door behind me, I heard Thomas Reid’s door open across the hall, and the clean scent of him filled my nose. I was still facing my door, which I was glad for, because I closed my eyes for a moment to inhale it. And it would’ve been super embarrassing had he caught me doing it.
I spun around and hurried toward the stairway. I didn’t like the way my stomach always flipped and my chest tingled around this man.
Either that, or I liked it too much.
His deep voice cut into my escape. The words spoken plainly, but I picked up the hint of amusement. “Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” I mumbled, not looking back as I disappeared down the stairway.
When I got to the street, I let my board drop and hopped atop it, setting off at a good pace toward Grant City High School, my hands shoved coolly in my jacket pockets. As I rode, weaving in and around other people on their morning commutes, so many things were buzzing through my brain that it all seemed like a big jumble.
I’m not sure what I’d thought life would be like in Grant City, but so far, it had turned out to be full of surprises. In just a few days, I’d made a new friend who was stupid good with computers, landed the perfect job, stopped an armed robbery… the list really just went on and on.
It was all this that distracted me as I floated along on my skateboard, and I chalk up what happened next to my unfocused mind and my unfamiliarity with city traffic. But I can chalk it any way I want, and it doesn’t make it any less foolish, any less stupid. My superiors back with the Brokers would have called it inexcusable. That was a favorite of theirs.
I nearly rolled right out onto a street where a truck big enough to flatten me had just barreled around the corner. I heard somebody yell, Look out! and a hand gripped my arm and yanked me off my skateboard just in time to avoid being smashed like a bug.
My heart was beating in my throat as I felt a rush of air that lifted my long hair off my shoulders and made my eyes water. There was an awful crunching sound as the right side tires of the truck flattened my board to tinder.
I stared in utter disbelief at the remnants of my skateboard and blinked as though someone had just flashed a bright bulb in my eyes.
I uttered a c
urse word, then remembered someone was still holding my arm. Looking over, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. It was Caleb Cross.
“Dude,” he said, his blue eyes serious. “You gotta be more careful.”
I kicked at the pieces of my board, trying to save just a portion of dignity. “Thanks,” I said. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
This earned a smile from him, his handsome face becoming even more so as the seriousness leaked out of it. “No problem. Really, I guess this just makes us even.”
I almost said that I guess it did before catching myself. My eyes narrowed at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, and started away.
“Of course you don’t,” Caleb called after me.
Rolling my eyes, I picked up my pace and finally reached the school a few minutes later. Just like that, my good mood had evaporated. I couldn’t afford another skateboard, and I’d loved my old one. On top of that, Caleb Cross was still sticking his cute nose where it didn’t belong.
“Just my luck,” I mumbled to myself as I climbed the steps that led to the front doors of GCHS.
Other students were filing into the building as well, the sound of their shuffle and chatter surrounding me. Digging into my pocket, I unfolded the schedule I’d been given on Friday—the one I hadn’t followed all the way through, but instead, had gone on a “field trip” with Sam—and found my homeroom number. I’d gone to homeroom on Friday, but I hadn’t committed the schedule to memory yet.
I found the room again and took a seat near the front. The teacher welcomed me on the way in. “How was your weekend, Miss Fae?” she asked.
I gave her a smile that wasn’t totally forced. “Better than expected, ma’am,” I said.
“Good for you,” she replied. “And Mrs. Berry will do just fine.”
I nodded, settling into my seat. My reasons for choosing a seat near the front were twofold; for one thing, I enjoyed learning, and for another, it made it harder to be spoken to by the other students with the proximity to the teacher. Despite me having befriended Sam, I’d always found that full human teenagers and I had nothing but surface things in common. They just couldn’t really relate to my life.