I ignore him as I break into a run, wanting nothing more than to collapse in my bed and cry. But ignoring only gets me so far, and soon I’m thinking of his words as I sprint through miles of underground tunnels with nothing around me but my own thoughts.
Hero rule number three:
Heroes never give up.
Dad and Max aren’t home when I arrive three hours later. I hadn’t intended to run for so long but once I got going I didn’t want to stop. Stopping means a return to reality—a chance to catch up with everything you’re trying to leave behind. Stopping is for the weak.
But I kind of had to stop once I wore a hole in my crotch.
The thin fabric of my sweatpants only held up for so long as my legs ran speeds that are apparently faster than everyone else. I’m grateful the guys aren’t home to see me crash through the front door, drenched in sweat with saggy pants revealing my hot-pink underwear.
When I’m showered and wearing whole pieces of clothing again, I sink into the couch and flip on the television. And—wow—is it seven o’clock already?
A candlelit vigil displays on the screen as the camera pans across a crowd of my peers all gathered in a stunning display of sympathy for Sara Sommer. I hurl myself off the couch and dash into my closet for something decent to wear.
Royal purple leggings and a silver tank top with the King City crown logo call out to me from my closet. I slip into the clothes and tousle my hair, trying to shove it into a messy bun. The roots of my hair are significantly, horrifyingly, darker than the ends. I arrange my hair in such a way that the lighter bits hang out in a distracting way. This is the worst time for someone to notice my darkening locks.
The sound of Max’s Hero alarm goes unnoticed at first. I hear it so much lately it’s become like background noise. But then I realize—mid lip-gloss applying—that Max isn’t home. So why would his alarm come to the house MOD?
Multiple ignored calls to Max and Dad have me flipping between staring obsessively at the MOD and checking the television for any sign that they are getting my messages. The camera shows Dad often, standing somber, respectful, and completely ignoring the BEEPR on his wrist.
I don’t see Max in the crowd, but the GPS locator on the MOD shows him ten feet away from Dad. Why isn’t he checking his BEEPR? Why is no one here to accept a call to duty? The alarm continues to wail, awaiting Max to press his thumbprint to the screen and accept the mission.
Suspected villain—south kapow entrance. secure door is ajar. Secure the area. only Heroes may pass.
I could tell him. I could run out of the house, take the KAPOW, and tell Max about the mission.
Or I could do nothing. Max can suffer the consequence of betraying his oath to protect. He would be ruined.
Just like me.
Hero Training. I must think like a Hero to be a Hero. What would a Hero do in this situation? I don’t have to think long about it—I know the answer.
My solid white training suit will have to do.
Once again I’m in my closet, exchanging my King City tank for my suit. I’ll need to look badass when they’re taking my photo and interviewing me as the first regular Super to capture a villain, so I pull out the messy bun and let my hair flow loosely around my shoulders. The dark contrast of my hair on the suit looks badass indeed. Too bad the dark and light colors of my suit and hair are switched. I pull my black facemask over my eyes. Step into my boots and hear them click themselves into place.
I’m not even nervous.
The south KAPOW entrance is one of only two doors in the KAPOW tunnels that lead outside of the canyons without the use of a pod. This particular door is square and barely taller than I am. They use it for maintenance and transporting deliveries to the human world. All I know is that it’s securely locked and monitored just like everywhere else in Central. So why it’s open in front of me, I don’t know.
With my legs in a secure stance and my arms free to attack, I push the door open further so I can see what waits on the other side. A gust of wind knocks me against the wall as the door swings wide and clangs into the stony canyon surface.
I see stars. And they aren’t from bashing my head into the wall; they are real, floating in the sky, stars. Millions of them, sparkling and beautiful against the night sky. I wish I could stop time and admire them forever. But I have a villain to catch.
Beyond the door lies a walkway carved from the south side of the canyon. I see no villains and sense no other power around me, so I relax and take in my surroundings. The walkway stretches about four feet wide and is as long as I can see in both directions. My first thought is that I’d love to take a morning jog along in this place.
My second thought is that beyond the walkway is a plummet hundreds of feet to the ground that even a Super can’t survive.
I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Guess I could camp out for a while, see if anyone comes up. With my back against the wall, my legs stay shoulder-width apart as gusts of wind pile into me. If it weren’t for the wind, I’d come here all the time. Make it my own personal balcony. The view of the canyons and the stars is almost enough to take my mind away from my fate as a Retriever.
I’ve spent so many nights dreaming about what life as a Hero would be like—picturing my days of fighting crime, reeling in bad guys, and saving humans from natural disasters. I wouldn’t marry because I wouldn’t have time for it. I wouldn’t have children because I don’t want the risk of having twins. But I would be a Hero, the world’s greatest Hero, and none of that stuff would matter.
My dream doesn’t have to be over. I can catch this intruder and win my Hero status. They won’t be able to deny me once I’ve saved the entire city from an internal villain attack. Such a thing has never happened.
And it will never happen.
I close my eyes and allow my ears to absorb everything around me. The steady flow of wind as it sweeps across the sky and crashes into the canyon. Water trickling through the river hundreds of feet below. There’s the sound of one heartbeat and one set of lungs inhaling and exhaling. Those are mine.
With precision steps, I move right since it has the worst line of sight. To my left, the canyon dips inward and I can see along the trail for a mile or so. It’s as empty as my Hero record. The left, however, is only visible for thirty yards before the pathway juts out with the mountainside and turns sharply around a corner. That’s my best bet.
Several moments pass as I near the corner. I breathe slowly, reducing my heart rate. I suck in my power so that nothing discernible radiates from my chest. The sun has long since dipped below the horizon but the abundance of stars casts a glow on the sharp rocky wall in front of me.
Two fingers wrap around the corner’s edge and disappear.
I take several steps back and leap into the air, grabbing ahold of a small ledge. My body dangles as I shimmy along the edge, only my fingers making contact with the mountainside. Several minutes pass as I climb and work my way up the massive wall until I’m about fifty feet higher than the pathway and right on the corner where the fingers were.
My left arm drops as I dangle from my right hand, swaying my body enough to get a view around the corner. Someone in a solid black bodysuit presses against the wall, keeping a lookout every way but up.
Typical villain idiocy.
He whispers something into a communication device on his wrist and then peeks around the corner and relays another hushed message. I glance back and almost miss it at first. But as I narrow my eyes, I see another figure approaching from about a mile away.
Perfect timing, second villain. You’ll arrive just in time to see your friend unconscious. But don’t worry, you’ll soon join him.
I return both hands to the wall, press my feet against it, and push off. For a brief moment I fly through the air and a rush of adrenaline, sweet sweet adrenaline, pours through my body. I release the hold on my power moments before I land, sending a shockwave of currents outward which makes my victim turn around in shock.<
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“What the—oomph,” he groans as I land on his shoulders like we’re playing volleyball in a swimming pool. Sucks for him that this isn’t a game.
I lock my feet under his armpits as he pulls at my legs. Grabbing the rocky ledge, I swing my legs, shoving him face first into the wall. His nose breaks but it’ll heal soon so I slam him again, and again, each time breaking it just as it heals. He cries out in pain and drops to his knees.
I throw my head back and somersault off him, landing with my back against the pathway wall. “Get up,” I hiss as he sits on his knees, his hands pressed against his face while his nose heals. Blood seeps through the cracks in his fingers. “Get up.” I kick the ground, hoping to startle him into standing. “Don’t you want to use your power one last time before it gets ripped out of your veins?”
He says something in a hushed voice as he turns to face me. I must have misheard him. “What?”
“Go home,” he repeats. It isn’t a threat or a warning. It’s an order.
“How dare you tell me what to do?” As quick as a flash of lightening, I slap my hand across his face and slam his head into the wall. It takes a lot to knock a Super unconscious, but I’ll need to do that if I want to drag him and his friend into Central. He lets out a sigh and rubs his head casually, like it wasn’t just split open on the side of the freaking Grand Canyon.
“You need to leave. This does not pertain to you.”
“You bet your evil freaking ass it pertains to me,” I snap. “You think I’m not good enough to defeat you and drag your pathetic unconscious body back in to Central so they can give you the depowering you deserve?” I’m yelling, but there’s no reason to stay quiet when the approaching villain would be able to hear even whispers by now. I peek around the corner to be sure and see him not even one hundred yards away. He moves slower than necessary, his back pressed against the wall. I realize the desperation flowing through the air isn’t from the bloodied villain at my feet, but from this other twerp being terrified of heights.
“Please go home,” he says again, rising to his feet. “If you stay you will be in certain danger.” I’m in a ready stance, preparing to attack him but he spreads his arms out in surrender. His communicator isn’t just any communicator. It’s the newest model BEEPR. Dad will want to hear about this—apparently villains have some kind of back market to smuggle our high tech equipment.
“The only one in certain danger is you.” I take his outstretched hands and swing him through the air and around the corner, kicking my feet off the wall so I go with him. We land on the other side, bringing me one step closer to the open steel door that leads safely back into Central.
His eyes go wide beneath his mask as the second villain steps closer to us with each passing second. He throws a punch in my direction, aiming squarely in the middle of my forehead, but I duck and his hand crashes into the wall, sending dust into the air.
I throw a punch toward him and he blocks it, as expected, giving my other fist the perfect time to slam into his jaw. He stumbles backward and rubs his cheek. “Why are you so strong? You’re just a kid.”
Why does everyone underestimate me? I should shatter every one of his bones with my bare fist and only when he’s begging for death, will I kill him.
I shake my head. Heroes don’t kill. Why am I thinking like that?
I block another punch and kick him straight in his man parts. A sinister snicker comes from a few feet away, where my second villain is now so close I can see his ashen teeth. He’s dressed in black from head to toe but his worn-out suit has years of rough treatment showing in its Kevlar.
He must be the lackey while pretty boy here is the brains of the operation. Air leaves my lungs as I’m shoved aside. The first villain jumps in front of me, pressing me against the wall. The second villain gives us appraising look over, before dismissing me and focusing his attention on the other guy.
I am so sick of people overlooking me.
With a running start, I leap toward the mountain and kick off high enough to jump over the villain in my way. As I push off the wall, I swing my leg to deliver a brutal kick to the second villain’s face, preparing myself by sending a jolt of power through my bones. If this doesn’t knock him out, he’ll wish it did.
A smile tugs the corners of my lips as I watch my foot nearing his masked face. And then my ankle fills with pain as the bones crack beneath the weight of his grip and my body flips upside down. He grunts, holding me in the air by my foot. Panic fills every cell in my body. “This isn’t your fight, kid,” he says. With a flick of his wrist, he throws me off the ledge.
A satisfying laugh fills the night air as I plummet hundreds of feet through the sky.
I’m falling.
Head over feet over head over feet. I can’t breathe. I can’t see because wind and dust force me to keep my eyes shut. I can’t think and, worst of all, I can’t stop myself. I’ve never been so out of control in my life.
My body crashes against rock, bounces before I can get a grip on anything, and rolls. I’m in the air again, falling, tumbling as my arm cracks against a ledge and bends back toward my face the wrong direction. I have to stop this.
I won’t let it kill me.
Forcing my eyes open, I watch my surroundings, all of them growing closer to me as I fall. As I near another slope, I straighten my legs, keeping my knees springy to brace for impact. Instead of crashing, I land on my feet. Then I topple to my side as the bones in my legs crack and shred my skin.
I scream so loud that no sound comes out of my mouth. Raw pain in my throat tells me I’ve probably been screaming this whole time. Something sharp lodges in my side and I roll out of the way, an effort that makes my feet disappear. Big mistake.
The sharpness in my side gives way to another agonizing fall. My back cracks against a ledge as I roll, crashing like a ragdoll into rocks and ledges on my decent. My feet sway wildly in the wind. Instinct makes me kick to find a ledge for support. But all kicking does is re-break my shattered ankle and send me into another spiral through the air.
I don’t know which way is up. Until my face smashes into the ground. The dirt in my mouth is a welcome sign that I’m finally on a solid surface. I open my eyes and scramble to my knees, finding myself at the opening to a small cave. In the dark, my blurry night vision shows me that it’s about as deep as I am tall. It’s probably tall enough for me to stand—if I could stand. It is a perfect Maci-sized cave.
My ankle writhes in pain as the bones stitch themselves back together, slower than before. I drag my body on my elbows toward the cave. I want to be as far away from that damned ledge as possible. The power in my chest pulsates with the rhythm of my breathing, wild and out of control.
My forehead drags the ground as I inch myself further into the cave. I stop when my hands touch the back of the cave. My body sinks to the ground and my cheek rests on the cool rocky ground. Stars fill my vision when my attempts to inhale a deep breath come out as hyperventilating. I grit my teeth and concentrate on breathing slowly through my nose, an effort that requires pushing back all thoughts of pain and focusing only on breathing.
Something warm sticks to my face. I lift my head and the warmth flows over my cheeks and into my mouth. Blood. Spitting the coppery taste mixed with dirt onto the ground, I try to sit up. Vertigo sweeps over me. My hand reaches shakily to my scalp, fingers trailing from my hairline to middle of my head.
Cold terror fills my chest as my fingers touch the side of my skull. Not my scalp, but my skull. I am missing a piece of my head. Oh god.
My stomach convulses and acidic liquid shoots up my throat. I shudder as vomit spews all over the floor of my Maci-shaped cave. I cough and hurl until nothing comes up anymore and then the dry heaving lasts for another five minutes. My only coherent thought is that I hope my own brain doesn’t fall out.
I’m on my hands and knees when the vomiting stops. My broken arm and ankle have healed. They are so stiff I can’t move them. My skull is another story.
Although bones heal themselves, I’m not sure if my head will heal when a big chunk is missing. My vision blurs as a disturbing thought comes to mind: If I find the piece, maybe I could put it back.
A shudder ripples through me at how completely gross this is. But my hands pat around the ground anyhow, passing over blood and puke and dirt and rocks. None of the rocks are shaped like a piece of my skull.
Panic rises in my chest—a feeling I have only read about until today. My heart races, forcing more blood out of my gaping wound, my fingers tighten and my chest constricts. I’m going to die here.
Not if I have anything to do with it.
Power rises in my chest, pulsating through my shoulders and into my arms and legs. This power is what keeps me alive and it will heal me. I press my hands against my chest and feel them fill with an internal fire. With a deep breath, I close my eyes and press my hands to my forehead. Power trickles into my skin, tickling my nose and raising the hairs on my neck. This isn’t enough. My thoughts are chaotic. I must take control.
My hands press harder against my head. My chest heaves with a deep breath as I force the power to drain from my toes and up through my body, pushing it from my fingertips into my head.
A soothing sensation tingles through my scalp. My body goes delightfully numb, leaving just a prickle as if it lost circulation.
A smile tugs at my lips as I pull more power out of my chest and force it to my fingertips. My scalp knits itself together first and then my skull vibrates, making my vision blur and my ears ring as my head grows more bone to replace what it lost. My breathing is steady, my fingers focused, my mind clear.
My eardrums crack as my hearing goes from reckless echoes to sharp and crystal clear. I let out the breath I’d been holding and climb to my feet. I smile, fists gripped tightly by my side as I hobble out of the cave and stare at the vast canyon before me. It tried to take my life. But it failed.
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