The General cocked his head to the side, considering Miles’s words. “Spoils of war. I earned this cape through patience, leadership, and strategy. Which makes me far more worthy than if an onion farmer had given it to me by happenstance in a parking garage.”
Miles fumed. “At least I know how it works. When I find the right person to wear it, I’ll teach them. But that person won’t ever be you. Passing the cape on is the only responsibility I have left. I won’t mess that up, too.”
“You really are a child.” The General wrinkled his nose, as though the word had an unpleasant odor. “So naive. What do you know of responsibility? You’re thirteen. A quarter of your life was spent peeing into a diaper.
“It’s difficult to fathom such immeasurable power in the possession of a mere child. No military training. No discipline. No illustrious career spent preparing for desperate moments. It’s disconcerting.”
Miles inched closer to the General. If he could just get within reach . . .
The General was fixated on the cape, his fingers caressing it. “I started by trying to cut the corner with a knife. The blade broke. So I tried a pistol, then a rifle, then a bazooka.”
So many robots had their cannons and bayonets pointed at Miles. His feet felt like a thousand pounds of wet lead. Somehow, he dragged them two steps closer.
The General turned, gesturing sweepingly at the bunker. “Then the flamethrowers, the howitzers, and even the tank. Look at what they did to the room. But the cape”—the General held it close, its golden glow reflected in his eyes—“the cape remains perfect.”
Miles stopped cold.
“It’s glowing,” Henry breathed, echoing Miles’s thoughts. “Why’s it glowing for him?”
“I remember the first time I saw it up close,” the General said, draping the cape over his shoulders. “The day those foul alien invaders attacked us. That was a desperate moment indeed. If not for this remarkable weapon, all would’ve been lost.”
Miles had an awful feeling.
The General grabbed one half of the cape’s clasp in each hand. “If that were to happen again, who’d keep the country safe?”
Despair. That was the feeling washing over Miles. Complete, abject despair.
The General dropped the cape over his shoulders and brought the clasp halves closer. “What if a worse enemy comes? That would be such a desperate moment, only a true hero would be able to prevail.”
Miles watched with horror as the clasp halves came closer. They wanted to join together. They wanted to be whole.
He wanted to sob.
It wasn’t possible. It could never be. The General was—
CHAPTER
23
MILES KNEW HE WAS DEAD.
Unless . . .
The cape was clutched in his fingers.
He fumbled with the clasp,
somersaulting and spinning downward.
Downward.
He somehow pulled the cape over his shoulders
and touched the clasp together.
Nothing.
He didn’t want to die.
But not wanting to die wasn’t enough.
He made a silent vow only the cape could hear.
Let me make it right.
One chance to save my friends.
I’ll never ask to be a hero again.
CHAPTER
24
MILES KNOCKED ON THE DOOR of apartment 2H as if he were a long-lost relative dropping by for a surprise visit. Which, all things considered, wasn’t too far from the truth.
The group had ditched the elevator in some nearby woods and hoofed it the last mile to Cedar Lake Apartments, the cape draped over Miles’s shoulder. Now, as Miles stood in front of the home he’d fled from a week ago, he felt more relieved than at any other time in his life. He heard fast footsteps approaching, and as the door flew open, Miles whispered a prayer of thanks. He’d made it home.
Mr. Taylor stood in the doorway, speechless.
“Hey, Dad.” Miles smiled weakly. “I forgot my house key.”
Mr. Taylor wrapped Miles in a bear hug so tight, he nearly squeezed the air out of him. “Dang it, son. Do you know what I’ve been through this week?”
Miles hugged him back. Indestructible superhero or not, there was nothing that could make him feel safer than being home and with his dad again.
“I’ve got the police and everyone I know looking for you.” Mr. Taylor examined Miles from head to toe. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m all right.” Miles said sheepishly.
“What on earth happened?” Mr. Taylor paused, his expression one of horror. “You were on Earth, right?”
“It’s a long story, Dad. I’ll tell it all to you. But right now I want you to know I won’t ever disappear like that again. I made a lot of mistakes. I treated you pretty bad, too. Actually, worse than pretty bad.” Miles choked back a sob. “But that’s all going to change.”
Mr. Taylor pulled Miles back into a hug. “Don’t worry about that now. There’ll be time for it later. I’m just glad you’re home and safe.”
After a long while, Mr. Taylor let Miles go. He looked at Henry, Lenore, and Dr. Petri as if noticing them for the first time. Three kids in orange jumpsuits, accompanied by a doctor in a lab coat. They must’ve looked like rejects from a science experiment. Which also wasn’t too far from the truth. “We’ll talk more about that later, though. Right now it looks like I’m going to be doing some entertaining.”
Miles wiped the tears from his face. “Um, you already know Henry. This is Lenore. She has some kind of force field around her that stops things from hitting her. And this is Dr. Petri. She does research on aliens and other weird stuff.”
Mr. Taylor offered his hand to Dr. Petri. “Good to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Dr. Petri smiled. “This is quite a young man you have here.”
Mr. Taylor leaned toward Miles. “Did you tell them? I mean, do they know you’re—”
Miles nodded. “Oh, they definitely know. Can they come in? We’ve been fighting killer robots at a secret army base all afternoon.”
Mr. Taylor slapped a hand to his forehead. “That was you? The news is saying some kind of base got swallowed up by a sinkhole. I guess you’re pretty tired, then. You all go on and find yourselves a seat.”
Everyone filed into the living room. Mr. Taylor called Henry’s parents immediately. Henry’s mom screamed so loud for joy, Mr. Taylor had to hold the phone away from his ear. Mr. Taylor invited them to come right over.
While they waited, Henry insisted they recount the events while their memories were still fresh. He called it a “speed debriefing,” which sounded like a fancy way of describing a locker-room prank.
As fast as they could, they each took turns telling Mr. Taylor what had happened to them, starting from the beginning. Mr. Taylor listened to it all without interrupting once. When they were finished with their story, he picked up a sofa cushion and tossed it at Lenore. The cushion skipped away before hitting her, seemingly changing course midair and knocking over a lamp on the end table.
“If that ain’t the darnedest thing I ever saw,” he breathed.
Dr. Petri adjusted her glasses. “I may have a theory about what happened to you, Lenore. About why you’re able to do the things you do.”
Lenore narrowed her eyes skeptically. “ ‘Theory’ sounds like you want to make me a prisoner in another lab somewhere.”
Dr. Petri looked down. “Nothing like that. I promise. If you give me a chance, I can help you.”
Lenore crossed her arms. “I want Miles and Henry in on it. I don’t do anything without them.”
Miles blinked. “You mean it? You want us to, like, hang out?”
“What?” Lenore huffed. “Is your little club boys only? Are we a team or not, doorknob?”
“Not just a team,” Henry said, a smile spreading across his face. “A super-team.”
Miles laughed. “I think that’s a yes.”
<
br /> “I’d be pleased to have them join us.” Dr. Petri was sincere. “Anytime.”
Lenore nodded. “We’ll talk.”
Mr. Taylor cleared his throat. “So, what about Gary, the army guy? Should I be worried about a military raid on my homestead?”
“You mean Jerry?” Miles asked.
“Yeah, him. What happened to him?”
Henry piped up. “I told him Gilded had used mind powers on him, and if he ever thought about telling anyone about any of us, his brain would automatically liquefy and leak out his ears. He won’t be an issue.”
Mr. Taylor cupped his hands over his ears, looking at Miles nervously. “Do you have mind powers now?”
“No.”
Mr. Taylor lowered his hands. “All right, then,” he said, relieved. “Who’s hungry?”
Food. Sounded like a plan.
Mr. Taylor went into the kitchen. Miles, Henry, and Lenore headed to Miles’s bedroom to get cleaned up.
Miles and Henry went first in the bathroom, washing their faces and peeling off their jumpsuits. Then it was Lenore’s turn. Miles handed her a pair of his jeans and a T-shirt.
“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t, you know, have any girl stuff.”
Lenore wrinkled her nose. “Do I look like I’d wear a dress? Thanks for the clothes, doorknob.”
Miles loaned Henry some clothes, too. They were baggy on his small frame, but he didn’t seem to mind. He left the bedroom and then came back with a garbage bag, stuffing his and Miles’s jumpsuits inside. “My parents will be here any minute. We need a cover story.”
The bathroom door opened, and Miles turned to talk to Lenore. “Glad you’re done. You can help us come up with—”
Miles saw Lenore and caught his breath. She wore the jeans and T-shirt, and her hair was pulled back in a rubber band. Not high fashion by any means, but she wore it well. “You look . . . I mean, you’re not . . .”
“You’re beautiful,” Henry cut in.
Lenore jammed her hands into her jeans pockets and looked away. She might’ve been blushing. “Shut up.”
Miles nudged Henry. “The cover story, remember?”
Henry shook his head like he was chasing off a daydream. “Right. Let’s get to work.”
They came up with the story together. Miles and Henry had gone on a hike without telling anyone, then gotten lost in the storm. Somehow they ended up in the middle of nowhere, where they met Lenore, a runaway who’d endured one too many bad foster homes before finally making a go of it on her own. They all became fast friends, helping one another survive until they stumbled upon the campsite of the good Dr. Petri, who was conducting research on an invasive species of toad. Rescued at last, Dr. Petri had promptly driven them all back to Miles’s place.
Far-fetched? Sure. But Henry was counting on Mr. and Mrs. Matte being so overjoyed to have him back that they wouldn’t ask too many questions. If they even listened to the story at all.
Henry went into the bathroom, stuffed Lenore’s jumpsuit inside the garbage bag, then tied it shut. He tossed the bag into Miles’s closet and dusted off his hands. “That takes care of everything.”
Lenore stood in the center of the room as if she didn’t know what to do or where to go. “Sure. Everything.”
Miles felt guilty. He was home, and Henry’s parents were on their way. But neither of them had stopped to think about Lenore.
Apartment 2H might not be a mansion and money was always tight, but Miles could sit down to a meal with family and friends whenever he wanted. Lenore had no family or friends. No home to go to. Miles swore he’d never take those everyday things for granted again.
“Don’t worry, Lenore,” Henry said. “You can come home with me tonight. First thing in the morning, my mom will call Social Services and set it up so you can stay with us until they find you a family. A good family.”
Lenore rolled her eyes, as though she’d heard it all too many times. “And if they don’t find me a family?”
“We’ll figure something out,” Henry answered reassuringly. “Just think. All the trouble Miles and I got into, if it hadn’t happened, you’d still be in one of General Breckenridge’s cells. You might not have ever gotten out.” He reached out slowly and grabbed Lenore’s hand. “What I’m trying to say is, even the worst things can lead to something good.”
Miles hung his head. He shuffled his feet, unable to make eye contact with either Henry or Lenore. “I know it’s not just my dad whose trust I have to earn back. It’s like I’m starting at square one all over again. But I’ve learned my lesson. You both can count on me.”
Henry looked Miles in the eye, leaving no doubt that whatever he said next was the God’s honest truth. “You’ve already got my trust, Miles. We’re a team again.”
“Not just a team,” Lenore said, smirking. “A super-team.”
Henry beamed. “You said it.”
“No, you said it.”
“Must be why it sounds like such a good idea. Now, enough of the sappy stuff.” Henry patted his stomach. “I’m going to see how much food I can fit in here.”
• • •
The Taylors, the Mattes, Lenore, and Dr. Petri—apartment 2H had never been so full. Dawn must’ve heard all the commotion because soon she’d joined their number too.
When Dawn laid eyes on Miles, she hugged him almost as hard as Mr. Taylor had. “We were so worried about you. I didn’t think I’d be able to keep your dad from losing his mind.” Her hair fell over Miles’s face, tickling his nose. “Thank God, is all I can say. Thank God.”
Miles hugged her back. “Thanks for looking after Dad.”
Dawn stepped back. “There’s a new recipe I concocted. A twist on home fries. How does breakfast for dinner sound?” Dawn reached into the pantry and pulled out an onion. It might even have been a Vidalia.
“No!” Miles, Henry, and Lenore shouted in unison.
Startled, Dawn nearly dropped the onion on the kitchen linoleum.
Miles took it and placed it back in the pantry—way in the back, where he hoped it’d never be seen or smelled again. “What we mean is, breakfast for dinner sounds perfect. Just leave out the onions.”
Everyone found a seat wherever they could and ate their fill, Lenore most of all. She seemed timid at first, like she hadn’t eaten with a large group of people in a very long time. But once she realized no one was trying to get too close to her, she settled in and enjoyed herself.
If anyone noticed the boarded-up window in the living room, they must have figured it wasn’t their place to ask about it. Which suited Miles just fine.
After everyone finished eating, Dr. Petri was the first to leave. She left her phone number with Lenore and said she hoped she’d call. Everyone thanked her over and over, and she accepted the gratitude as though she really had rescued three kids she found wandering in the woods. Their secrets were safe with her.
The Mattes said their good-byes and started heading out with Henry and Lenore in tow. Miles wondered if she’d ever been in a house as large as the one where she’d be sleeping for the night.
“Steer clear of Henry’s room,” he warned her. “Or you’ll get lost in the piles of laundry.”
Miles held out his hand. Lenore studied it for a moment, then shook it. Gently.
“Thanks,” Lenore said. “I mean it.” It was the first time Miles had seen her truly happy. She had a crooked little grin, like she was sure of herself and unsure of herself at the same time.
“Anytime.”
With that, their adventure ended.
• • •
After everyone else had left, Dawn hugged Miles again and went back to her place, leaving a kitchen filled with pots, pans, and dishes for Miles and Mr. Taylor to clean up. Small price to pay for such a celebration.
Miles washed and rinsed, and Mr. Taylor dried. Every clean pan, every sparkling dish made Miles feel more and more at peace. It was as though it were his mistakes and failures, and not food bits, that were being scrubb
ed away.
When everything was back in the cupboards, Miles and Mr. Taylor admired their handiwork. It was good to be home.
“I better call the police and let them know they can call off the search.” He reached for the phone, then snapped his fingers. “Almost forgot.” He pulled a scrap of paper from behind a magnet on the front of the fridge. “You got a few calls while you were gone.” He handed Miles the paper. On it was scribbled a phone number and Josie’s name.
Miles looked at the paper, unsure what to do. Last time he’d spoken to Josie, he’d been a total idiot. She was probably fed up and angry with him. He more than probably deserved it.
“She sure was worried about you. Called every day to see if there’d been any word.”
“Really?”
“Wouldn’t fib about something like that. Want my advice?”
Miles raised an eyebrow. “I thought wooing girls wasn’t your strong suit.”
Mr. Taylor looked offended. “You believed that? Shoot. First your mother and now Dawn. That’s two girls I’ve gotten to talk to me in my lifetime. That has to make me some kind of expert.”
“Okay, then. What’s your advice?”
“Don’t wait until you see her at school. A nice girl like that, you call her right now. No matter how much is on your plate, always make room for the people who care about you.”
“I will. Thanks, Dad.”
Mr. Taylor nodded. “You need anything else from me, just holler.” He headed for the sofa and a return to the quiet, TV-filled evenings Miles was accustomed to.
Routine. Always a good thing.
Miles looked at the phone. He thought about telling Josie the truth about where he’d been and why he’d been acting like a jerk. What could it hurt to let one more person in on his secret? But that wouldn’t be right. If Josie knew he was Gilded, she might forgive him no matter what. The way he’d changed lately wasn’t because of the cape. It was in spite of it. Miles had to earn back her trust fair and square, same as with everyone else. No matter how long it took, that’s exactly what he was going to do.
Rise of the Robot Army Page 15