The Sound of Wind

by Raegan Millhollin

  **

  The man CJ had affectionately dubbed ‘Superman’ was obviously hungry for publicity, so it seemed like another interview was the way to go. This time it was a tabloid magazine that no one had ever heard of. Never mind how a new paper could afford to go all the way out to Zurich to interview some guy from a YouTube clip, but when the offer had been extended for the interview, Superman didn’t seem to care. His real name was Reto Müller. It should have been difficult finding a man based entirely on the video, but he wanted to be found, so they did.

  The team comprised of Sol, CJ, and Clem for their obvious talents, and Mr. Gideon had been kind enough to give them a portal to the airport. They took a rental car to Yooji's, the restaurant they were going to meet at. Reto was waiting for them at a table. He was tall, thick, blonde-haired, and blue-eyed man, already wearing a smirk before they entered.

  Hugo walked up to the table, everyone else in tow. Reto stood to meet them, grinning and eager.

  “Hello Mr. Müller,” Hugo began in Swiss-German, “I’m Andrew, I spoke with you on the phone.”

  “Yes, yes!” Reto returned enthusiastically, grabbing Hugo’s hand and nearly crushing it in a handshake, “It’s a pleasure!”

  Hugo resisted the urge to shake out his numb hand before continuing the introductions. “This is Michael Anderson,” he motioned towards Clem, who was smiling pleasantly.

  Reto shook his hand as well. “Yes, a pleasure. Welcome to Zurich.”

  Wow, he’s got a grip, doesn’t he! Clem stated, kindly sharing his own pain with Hugo.

  Hugo motioned towards the table Reto had been sitting at, deciding to gloss over CJ and Sol’s fake introductions; Reto wouldn’t care anyway. “Shall we have a seat?” Reto nodded enthusiastically and everyone sat down. “Reto, would you mind if Mr. Anderson conducts the interview in English?”

  Reto responded in English, “Of course not, fire away.”

  The girl and the pusher are here. Clem informed him. Hugo got a clear image of their appearances along with the message. They were several tables away in a booth, holding hands over cups of coffee. She was wearing a purple dress, her long black hair pulled back in a braid. The man was the right build to be the pusher and thankfully he wasn’t wearing a hat this time. He had straw-colored hair and a scruffy beard. They were each giving sidelong glances at their table.

  The interview didn’t go well. Oh, Clem asked all the right questions, CJ interjected her quips, and Reto was happy and eager to respond, but he was too hung up on the idea of celebrity to stop pulling his little stunts. Any hints Clem tried to give that this would also draw a lot of negative attention fell on deaf ears. Superman could not be persuaded. Could his friends?

  Clem intruded on his thoughts. I think you’ll be interested to know there’s money involved.

  Hugo straightened in his seat, examining Reto. What?

  Reto. He keeps thinking about how much money he’s going to make when we publish our story. But he doesn’t seem to know who from.

  Hugo frowned, glancing at the booth for a moment. Maybe they know?

  Perhaps. I’ll need to talk to them though. Clem’s thought was contemplative.

  And how do you propose we do that?

  Oh, I just let them know you’re on to them. They plan on visiting you at your hotel tonight. Smug satisfaction ribboned through the statement, punctuated by a chuckle at something Reto had said. Hugo almost choked.

  CLEM!

  You’re welcome. Clem’s tone was cheerfully unrepentant.

  The interview ended shortly after that. Clem thanked Reto for his time and they headed outside to the car. While Clem explained why it was time for a stakeout, Hugo called Mr. Hansen, let him know what they’d found out about Reto and got the address for a hotel in Zurich that they could stay the night at.

  “This hotel’s pretty nice,” CJ pointed out as they got settled in their room. They didn’t have a room for four, so CJ and Hugo shared one room, and Clem and Sol got the other. Hugo was just along for the ride at this point, so he pulled out his laptop and started checking the comment thread on the YouTube clip. They’d disabled comments on it it was so popular.

  There was a knock on the door, so CJ let Clem in. He didn’t move very far from the doorway. “Just wanted to let you know I’m going to go downstairs to the lobby, see if I can’t attract their attention. I think I can get the girl to at least tell me where the money is coming from.”

  Hugo frowned, “Do you need us to come with you?”

  “If I had CJ to keep an eye on me, that would be great,” Clem winked at the girl, “but that woman doesn’t like you, so I think you should stay out of sight for now.”

  Hugo rolled his eyes, but Clem had a valid point. “Alright, fine. Just be careful.”

  Clem saluted, “Yes sir. Come on CJ. You can be sneaky right?”

  CJ brightened considerably, “You bet I can! No one will even know I’m there!” Clem smiled approvingly and then they left the room.

  Hugo was almost done typing up the report for the trip so far when the room brightened and CJ rose out of the bed like a crackling ghost. She landed on it as a solid girl, her expression grim.

  “That was really boring,” she said dourly, “This has all been really boring.”

  “What happened?” Hugo asked, ignoring her distress.

  “Well the lady talked to Clem about, well, nothing really. But he wanted me to tell you they got their funding from somebody named Gregori M-something or other.” She shrugged.

  Hugo’s breath stuck in his throat. The man who would try and kill Madeline. “Melnikov?”

  “Yeah, that uh, sounds right. Anyway, he’s paying them for how popular they become. When they-” The sudden darkness cut CJ off. Hugo stiffened. “What’s going on?!” CJ yelled. But underneath that he could hear the sound of the door rattling. Was this someone’s ability, or had he magically gone blind?

  “Can you see?” Hugo asked in a whisper.

  “No! I can’t! Ahhhh!” CJ let out a blood curdling scream and then the room was warm and it sounded like a giant bug zapper went off. A deeper voice let out an agonized yell as the room filled with the nauseating stench of burning hair. The scream cut short and a moment later light flooded back into the room, temporarily blinding him. When his eyes stopped watering he was staring at a charred mess. An electrical monster stood in a bed of flames and next to it a twisted, blackened corpse, still smoldering amidst the brief embers of the charred carpet. Somewhere down the hall a door slammed open and a moment later Sol and Clem were there. The lightning leapt through the window.

  He was going to lose her. The company would probably be able to track her down later, but by then the damage would be done. She needed help now. Hugo jumped out the window after her. After dropping two stories and nearly slamming into the building opposite of the hotel before he righted himself, he remembered that he hadn’t actually tried flying yet and could have easily killed himself. But that was only a brief thought as he caught sight of CJ just as she dulled back into human form, which was a huge plus, since he soon overtook her. He dropped down in front of her, bracing himself as she crashed into him at full bore. She thrashed a bit as he wrapped his arms loosely around her, but thankfully wasn’t concerned enough with getting away to shock him.

  He stroked the back of her head, “It’ll be ok. It was just an accident. You were just trying to protect yourself. You’re not a bad person.” It was all crap; she wouldn’t believe him, but at least she was listening. At first she was just shaking, but quickly dissolved into heart-shattering sobs. Her legs buckled and Hugo led them into a controlled slide to the ground. He kept talking, rubbing her back, stroking the back of her head, holding her. It meant nothing. He couldn’t help her. He couldn’t help himself. Some border he hadn’t know was there had been crossed and he’d dragged CJ with him because he’d been too afraid to go by himself. This was the end result. He had done this to her and it was irreversible. She would adapt, because that’s
what humans did, but she would be different. CJ, but not quite CJ.

  Time passed because CJ became still, just leaning against him. “I’m taking you back to your room.” No response. He kept one arm around her to support her, but fished his phone out of his pocket with his free hand. Awkwardly he opened his phone and dialed Mr. Hansen’s number. He could have called Mr. Gideon directly, but the idea made him feel sick for no logical reason. “Mr. Hansen? We’d like to come back now, please,” his throat was scratchy, and even to his own ears he sounded slow and muted.

  “CJ is with you?” There was an edge of worry to the question.

  “Yeah,” Hugo returned softly.

  “Alright, one moment.” Mr. Hansen hung up. As promised, Christian stepped out of thin air. He moved toward them, but then stopped. Hugo carefully dragged CJ into a standing position and nudged her forward, his arm still around her shoulders, keeping her close. She moved with robotic cooperation, following Christian back through the portal and the four extra steps to her bed. Mr. Gideon was beside the portal with a deep frown. Once they’d stepped through, he backed out of the room through another portal. This would probably be the only moment Hugo would ever be grateful for Mr. Gideon’s existence.

  Hugo set CJ down on the bed and took one of her hands in both of his own, and they sat there. Christian looked briefly like he was going to speak, but opted for quietly leaving the room, closing the door behind him. CJ stared at the ground and Hugo stared blankly at the door. She didn’t immediately start crying again; she was probably too exhausted for that.

  “CJ?” No response. “CJ, look at me, ok?” Slowly she raised her red eyes. Her face was smeared, blotchy, and damp. Lacking anything as civilized as Kleenex, Hugo used the sleeve of his sweater to wipe away the remaining tears.

  “Mr. Hansen’s going to yell at me, isn’t he?” Her voice shuddered and her eyes glazed a bit.

  Hugo shook his head, “No, he’s not. What you did was an accident; he can’t fault you for that.”

  “But…but I-” her voice broke.

  “He won’t. I know for a fact, ok?” Hugo returned softly.

  “How?” She suddenly seemed a little skeptical and hopeful at the same time.

  Hugo cringed, stared at the ground. “From experience. Besides, I wouldn’t let him, or anyone else, even if they tried, anyway.” This seemed to satisfy her, because her shoulders relaxed again and the nails she was digging into his hand eased up. “I want you to lie down, try and get some rest.” CJ frowned. “I’ll stay if you want. But I want you to put on some pajamas first. Ok?”

  Slowly, “Ok.” And just as sluggishly, CJ stood, walking over to her dresser.

  “I-I’ll just wait outside. Come get me, if you want. Ok?” Hugo didn’t bother waiting for a response before rushing out of the room, because she was obviously too focused on the task of changing to provide one. He leaned awkwardly against the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wanted to smoke…drink…anything, but he was afraid to leave. The door opened a crack, and he accepted the invitation back inside, closing the door behind him. CJ was just standing in the middle of the small room wearing yellow ducks. Her eyelids were drooping, but at least some of the red in her face had faded.

  Hugo carefully took her hand and led her back to the bed. He pulled the covers back and she crawled onto the bed, curling up to face the wall. Hugo pulled the blanket over her, touched the top of her head, and then sank to the floor, propping his back up against the bed. He drew his knees to his chest and visualized the first page of “A Stranger in a Strange Land”, and started reading.

  He didn’t realize he’d dozed off until the vibrating of his phone nudged him awake. “Mr. Hansen?”

  “I need to see you in my office.” The man’s voice was calm, betraying nothing.

  His voice more brisk than intended, “Can’t it wait?”

  “No, it can’t. Dr. McFadden is on her way to CJ’s room. She’ll look after her.”

  Hugo sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, “Ok. I’ll be right there.” He flipped the phone closed, not interested if the man had anything else to say.

  The hallways were dimly lit and nearly disserted as he made his way, only a dull question in the back of his mind as to the reason why Mr. Hansen was still even in the office. But he found he didn’t care all that much as he opened the door without knocking. “What do you want?” Hugo snapped.

  Mr. Hansen hesitated, but then motioned for him to take a seat; he obeyed reluctantly. “Your report.”

  “I haven’t had time,” Hugo said between clenched teeth.

  Mr. Hansen remained unphased, “I’ve seen what you’ve written so far. Tell me the rest.”

  “Do we have to do this right now? I’m kind of-”

  Mr. Hansen cut in, his voice suddenly firm and insistent, “If you want me to help CJ, you do.”

  Hugo’s mouth snapped closed, and for several long moments he just stared at the illusionary man before him, expecting something, but he wasn’t sure what. He was going to help CJ? “…Help?”

  “Sol gave me his perspective on the situation, and I understand that what happened to CJ can be a very traumatizing experience. It would be best for her to talk about it. I want to be sufficiently educated so I can give her that outlet.” Mr. Hansen folded his hands on his desk.

  Hugo just kept staring at him in disbelief. Mr. Hansen was going to help CJ. He was going to talk to her, tell her it was an accident, that she wasn’t a killer, just scared. She needed to hear that. He was not jealous.

  Hugo explained.

  Once he’d finished, Hugo stared down at his hands, feeling the weight of the night pressing down on him. “What will happen to her now?” He questioned softly.

  Mr. Hansen folded his hands on the desk, “Nothing. I’ll talk to her, try and help her as best I can, and Christian is handling the cleanup.”

  Hugo nodded. “And Reto?”

  “Christian is handling the cleanup.”