Battlecry

by Emerald Dodge

  “Why are you giving this to me? It’s yours.” The small device was suddenly very heavy in my hand.

  Juliet stared at a young woman singing to her baby. “Unless the water recedes, this is going to turn into a rescue operation. That’s your area of expertise, not mine.” She turned back to me, her eyes sad. “So far, everyone feels safe because your team is here. When the time comes, they might only keep calm because you’re in charge of getting them to safety.”

  Juliet returned to her table, leaving me in the hallway with the radio I’d need to coordinate a joint Super-military rescue operation. I stared down at the black device, nausea rising in my stomach.

  As much as I’d tried to be optimistic and think otherwise, I had to accept that I’d been deluding myself about the hurricane all day.

  I leaned against the wall and my knees collapsed.

  The church was going to flood. There wasn’t enough room on the second floor for everyone. Rescue operations couldn’t begin until the storm had passed—and it wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

  I closed my eyes against the reality of the moment, and all I could hear was the nonstop howling wind beyond the fragile brick walls.

  Patrick was a better leader than you. At least he’d know what to do. The sinister thought snaked around me.

  “Patrick was terrible,” I mumbled to myself. But I could not stop the thoughts.

  You’re so stupid, Jill. You were never good enough to be a leader. People are going to die because you wanted to prove something to the world. Your team will die. Reid should’ve taken over. He’d be a better leader than you. You can’t even…

  The gentle tinkling of a bell in the chapel distracted me from my self-loathing, providing an unexpected, beautiful counterpoint to my ugly thoughts.

  I opened my eyes and hugged my knees, then breathed in and out, willing my fear to leave my body.

  You can do this. The still, small thought, so unlike my normal mental berating, washed over my mind like balm. I straightened a little. Could I do this?

  No. Of course I couldn’t help the civilians. I had nothing to offer them.

  I laid my head on my knees. What was I thinking, pretending I was a leader of anyone? I’d tipped Patrick off that we were in town, and then I’d flubbed the mission at the school. How I’d flubbed it, I couldn’t say, but it certainly didn’t feel like a victory with hundreds of dead children and Patrick escaping.

  And now I couldn’t even stay on my feet to face a storm. I was huddled on the floor like a damned victim—of Patrick, of circumstance, of my own wretched ambition and pride.

  I closed my eyes again. The physical sensation of sitting on the hard floor dredged up a memory of doing the same in the shed months before. I’d just run away from base camp and had been convinced that I’d hit rock bottom, that I had nothing left.

  That was a lie. Benjamin’s mental voice immediately struck back, my internal defender, as he’d been even before I’d defected.

  In the shed I’d had the respect of my team, even though they weren’t with me at the time. Marco had run away to find me. Ember and Reid had protected me at the library. They’d joined me, ignoring all warnings that my leading the team would ruin it. Despite my terrible behavior after we’d moved into the convent, they still trusted me and wanted to help me.

  In that regard, I had more than Patrick had ever had. I had a team that was more than the sum of its parts, more than five superpowered people.

  I had friends.

  No, I had a family that loved me and was dedicated to helping me reach my full potential as a leader.

  I slowly raised my head. I had everything to offer the people in the shelter.

  I struggled to my feet and spotted the other four lingering by the entrance to the social hall. I concentrated on Ember, whose eyes widened.

  She ran towards me. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  “I don’t know how to save everyone. The water’s rising and there’s nowhere for them to go. I need your help.” My voice, though low, was serious and strong, containing no fear.

  The guys joined us and Ember repeated what I’d told her.

  “We should probably talk about this where we can’t be overhead,” Marco said, eyeing three small children who were goggling at us a few feet away.

  I agreed, and we walked into the gym and up the stairs to the weight room.

  I pushed aside the weight rack with my foot and opened the door to the roof access. “This is the only second-floor room in the building. The stairs go to the roof, but that’s not a better option at the moment, and I’m not sure the roof can even handle two hundred people on it.”

  Benjamin shook his head. “It can’t, and this room can hold maybe fifty people.”

  I sank down on the punching bag, head in my hand. Think, Jill. Think.

  We couldn’t go up, and we couldn’t go out. The building itself was solid, brick and stone. I doubted our wooden house next door was still standing, but the church was built like a rock.

  Marco cracked his knuckles. I glanced up at his hands, and I saw steaks of clay on his fingers. I stood up and walked over to him, gently taking one of his hands in mine and examining it. “How much heat do you have left?”

  “Um, a lot. Why?”

  I smeared some of the clay on my finger and held it up. “Reid, Marco, you’ve got work to do. We’re going to brick up every door and window in this place.”

  Flagstones, bricks, and cement blocks flew from the walls and stone patio, directed by Reid into a ten-foot wall that completely covered the doorway of the church.

  Reid’s eyes glowed while he controlled the flying bits of rock, interlocking them as tightly as possible in preparation for the water that was encroaching on the church property. A foot of water lapped against the outside set of doors, leaking into the entryway between the sets. To hedge our bets, I’d told Reid to build the wall on the inside of the inner glass doors, letting the outside doors function as our first wall.

  When the last brick fell into place, Reid stepped back and casually manipulated several buckets-full of mud, collected earlier, into the cracks.

  When every space was filled, Marco walked forward, his hand outstretched. “Stand back. It’s going to get a little warm over here.”

  My team retreated to the other side of the room, and then Marco unleashed a concentrated stream of heat onto the rocks. The mud hardened into a substance much stronger than dirt—it was glassy, almost like porcelain.

  When he was done, Marco and Reid high-fived; the front door was the last door to be blocked. The church was now as protected as we could make it, with every window, door, and opening bricked and sealed shut.

  I sat down against a wall and closed my eyes, the sounds of the shelter filling my ears.

  Father Kokoski was talking to people in the chapel. Three children in a classroom down the hall laughed while they played a skipping game—I was surprised to realize that I’d played the same game as a child. Two young lovers were kissing in a nearby closet, whispering each other’s names and murmuring words of love and appreciation. A father hushed his sons, who were playing a fighting game of superhero versus supervillain. The supervillain was winning.

  I was proud of myself.

  Sure, I’d had a dark moment in which I’d panicked, but I’d muddled through and come up with the best plan possible. I could hear deep water splashing against the walls of the school, but it wasn’t inside. Nobody was going to drown on my watch.

  The others eventually settled around me. Reid had secured boxed lunches for us from Juliet, and we ate our meals while chatting about rescue operations, clean up, and all that lay beyond. Benjamin suggested buying computers for everyone and enrolling us in long-distance classes.

  A good-natured squabble broke out about which grade level we should start.

  Outside, the water steadily rose, but Reid and Marco’s walls held strong against the might of Hurricane Ben.

  37

  I walked dow
n the dark corridor with a flashlight, peering into classrooms and offices where sleeping civilians lay on the floor. It was sometime after midnight, and my night watch shift had just started.

  The shelter was finally quiet, allowing me to easily hear the endless water sounds from outside. I’d heard the wind all day long, but now that the brunt of the storm had passed, the flooding and constant rain mixed to make a plopping, flowing sound that would’ve been relaxing in other circumstances. Now it made me paranoid.

  My team and the civilians could not hear what I could beyond the blocked windows: water flowing at least six feet deep. Half of the shelter was essentially underwater. As I walked through the atrium, I could hear the spooky swish-swish of water against thick glass, but I couldn’t tell if the outer glass doors had held.

  I roved around the church for hours inspecting every nook and cranny for leaks. I tiptoed through each room, over sleeping bodies, obsessively scanning for drips. I listened at each sealed window for the sound of cracking glass.

  Finally, when I’d passed through the atrium for the tenth time without finding so much as a damp spot in the ceiling tiles, I admitted to myself that the plan had worked.

  At zero two thirty I returned to the weight room, where my team was arranged in a small circle. I gently shook Ember, who was snuggled against Reid under a blanket.

  “Hey lovebird,” I whispered. “It’s time for watch.”

  Ember opened her eyes and blinked at me. “Oh, boy,” she groaned. She sat up. “Hey, the storm isn’t as loud anymore.”

  “We’ll probably get in touch with the military rescuers later today.” I stifled a yawn and pulled a blanket over me, resisting the urge to copy Ember’s idea and slide next to Benjamin. “Wake me up at zero five, please.”

  I laid my head on the floor and was asleep in seconds.

  Ember’s wake-up shake came entirely too quickly.

  I sat up with a groan and pushed my snarled hair out of my face, accepting a granola bar and an apple for breakfast. While I ate, she woke up the others, who moved with equal slowness.

  Benjamin rubbed his neck. “God, I hate sleeping on the ground.”

  The rest of us snickered. “Be thankful there aren’t timber rattlesnakes in here,” Marco said. “There are a whole bunch in Chattahoochee camp.”

  “You’re all lunatics, you know that?” He turned and looked at the roof access. “Hey, I can’t hear the wind.” He appeared at the door in the blink of an eye, pulled it open, and disappeared up the dark stairwell. “You guys gotta come see this!”

  We followed behind. I was the last to step out onto the slick, pebble-covered roof.

  The sunrise stretched its orange-gold rays over the watery expanse of Saint Catherine. Once a bustling city, it was now a vast lake punctuated by buildings and tree tops.

  Downtown, a few miles to the east, was on slightly higher ground and so remained relatively dry. Old Town, where we were, was under eight feet of water—the flood came up to just below the roofline of the church’s first floor. The church’s flagpole stuck out of the flood like a bizarre lightning rod.

  Around us stood the sunken homes of our neighbors, most of which were vacant. However, from our vantage point on the gym, I could see scattered individuals on rooftops here and there, too far away to identify.

  Behind us were a few taller homes that were flooded, but still standing. Someone moved behind a curtain in the house nearest us, and I made a mental note to offer them relief supplies later.

  Marco took off his shirt and closed his eyes, absorbing the sunlight with obvious pleasure. “Aw, man, I missed the sun.”

  Reid craned his neck to look at our left. “Well, the convent’s gone. Shocker.”

  “Is it weird that I think it’s almost pretty?” Ember asked.

  Benjamin shook his head. “Nah, I think so too.”

  I pulled out the radio Juliet had given me. “You know what will be prettier? Two hundred people getting rescued.” I switched on the radio and took a breath before pressing the red transmission button. “Mayday mayday mayday, this is registered superhero Battlecry, team number one four two seven, Saint Catherine, Georgia, requesting flood rescue assistance, over.”

  There was a long silence, and then:

  “Confirmed, this is United States Coast Guard Cutter Friedrich. What is your location? Over.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I waved a burning emergency flare above my head, directing the orange-and-white helicopter to land on the larger lower roof. I scrambled down the rusty ladder and waved at the Coast Guardsman who’d jumped out. The draft from the helicopter churned the water and whipped my hair around my face. The smallest pebbles on the roof tumbled backwards, away from the helicopter.

  “Are you Battlecry?” The Guardsman shouted above the din of the rotors.

  “Yes!”

  “The Friedrich sent me to coordinate with you! They’re starting rescues and could use the help!”

  We yelled back and forth for a few minutes, eventually agreeing to send Ember and Reid ahead to begin rescues, while I would stay with Marco and Benjamin at the shelter until everyone was out. A larger boat would come our way in a few hours, though he couldn’t tell me when.

  I hugged Ember and Reid, assuring them that we’d join them shortly.

  Benjamin, Marco, and I watched in silence as the helicopter flew away.

  When it had disappeared into the distance, I turned to Marco. “Benjamin and I are going to get in touch with some of the neighbors and offer assistance. Go inside and tell Juliet to keep calm and start preparing everyone for evacuation. We’ll be inside in a little while.”

  Marco pulled a face. “Can’t I help with finding people? I’ve been on babysitting duty this whole time. I want to do something.”

  I frowned. What now? “You helped seal up the building. And keeping order is not babysitting. It’s the first step in reducing crime. You’re the best one of us when it comes to interacting with civilians.”

  “Blah blah blah. You’re making me work with kids because you think I am a kid.”

  “Marco, shut the hell and do your job!”

  I loved my cousin, but Marco’s attitude was out of line. I had to lay down the law. He was going to obey a simple order whether he liked it or not.

  Throwing me a furious glare, he stomped off and up the ladder, disappearing onto the gym roof. The roof door slammed.

  “He’ll get over it,” Benjamin said.

  “Forget about it right now.” I walked towards the part of the roof closest to the house with the occupant I’d seen. I scooped up some pebbles from the roof and tossed them at the window. “Hello! Is anyone there?”

  Nobody appeared in the window, nor did I hear movement.

  Benjamin took my hand in his. “Let’s go back inside and help Marco. We can worry about the neighbors when the rescue boat shows up. If their house hasn’t floated away by now, it won’t.”

  I squeezed his hand. “Still interested in being a superhero after all of this?”

  “Are you kidding? I can’t wait to help with rescues. Do you think I’ll go out with the helicopters or stay behind with the medical teams?”

  I leaned towards him. “I think I’ll attach you to the medical team and then find myself there with some exciting injury for you to heal.”

  He grinned. “Oh, really now? Like what?”

  “Chapped lips.”

  Laughing, he scooped me up in his arms and kissed me. “We did it,” he whispered. “Everyone’s safe, and we’re okay.”

  I winked. “Not bad for a team of rebels and a supervillain.”

  He pinched my bottom and I slapped his hand.

  He laughed. “If you’re going to still call me a supervillain, I’m going to do terrible things to earn the name.”

  Giggling, I dashed away from him, and he chased me towards the ladder to the gym roof. When I reached it, I put one hand on a rung and turned to blow him a kiss. “Time to be serious. Let’s continue this epic battle later
.”

  “That had better be a promise.”

  I grinned and turned to climb up the ladder. A horrific metallic screech made me jump back. The ladder pulled away from the bricks, rusted bolts popping out of place and raining down on us. It fell at our feet with an enormous crash, trapping us on the lower roof.

  “What the hell?” I said, staring up at the gym roof. “How old was that ladder? Help me find another way up.”

  I glanced at Benjamin and froze. He was staring at something over my shoulder, undisguised horror on his face.

  I turned, then took a step back.

  Patrick floated down onto the roof from the neighboring house, his shirt damp and bloodstained. Though his face was white and taut with pain, he stared directly at Benjamin.

  “Well, who do we have here?”

  38

  “You never told me you were courting, Jill.”

  Every muscle froze as Patrick took a step closer to us. I was hideously aware that we had nowhere to go. A fight with Patrick was becoming commonplace for me, but Benjamin was a non-combatant. He’d last two seconds against a trained killer like Patrick, injured or not.

  I shoved Benjamin behind me into the bricks. “He’s nobody. This fight is between us.”

  Patrick’s lips twitched, but his stab wound prevented him from truly smiling. “I’ve seen you before,” he croaked, studying Benjamin. “You were at the library.” He looked back at me. “Nobody, huh? After you threw rocks at my window I watched you with him. Do you let every nobody grope you?”

  I blushed, but my voice was steady when I spoke. “If you want to throw down the gauntlet, you’re going to lose.”

  His ultimate goal was clear: threaten Benjamin to piss me off, and then seize the advantage when I went berserk. He’d pulled out that card several times, and it had always worked. He expected me to die defending Benjamin, and then he’d kill Benjamin.