I don’t finish the thought because something suddenly occurs to me. Jenna is here. The Silver Lynx is here. But she is alone; her Super isn’t by her side. And the voice on the other side of the door sounds just like . . . I try to clear my head. It’s impossible. There’s no way the Dealer and the Fox could be working together. Could they? Surely somebody would have known. Mr. Masters. Or one of the other Supers. Or . . .
“Jenna?”
Something’s wrong. Something in the cold, calculating tone of her voice. It makes me shudder as she takes another step closer.
“I’m sorry, Drew,” she says. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.”
“Jenna, what are you even talking about?” I want to reach out for her, but I don’t. I’m afraid. She is so close I can feel her breath.
“It’s messed up. I know,” she says. “But I’m going to fix it. Everything will be all right. It’s all part of the plan.” Instead she’s the one reaching out for me. “I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt you,” she says.
And then I hear a click and look down to see one of my own sleep grenades in her hand.
“I’m so sorry,” she says again.
Then she hits me.
Jenna Jaden. The Silver Lynx. The girl who bloodied my nose and promised to always be friends. Who taught me how to do yoga and introduced me to banana milk shakes, who sat next to me in H.E.R.O. three days a week and recited the Code that we both swore to live by. The girl who leaned in close on the bleachers of the baseball diamond and in only a few seconds, screwed up my life forever. That girl chops me hard across the base of my neck, hitting a nerve that I didn’t even know existed, sending me to the ground, right next to the sleep canister that she activates and drops down beside me. The ether seeps into my lungs, instantly making me dizzy. I try to push it away, but whatever she did paralyzed me and I can’t move.
I see three Jennas hovering over me, and suddenly I realize what I didn’t before: that she’s needed me to save her for a while now. Ever since that day at the bleachers. Probably even before that. I want to tell her to stop. That whatever she’s done, we can fix it, together. But I can’t—in part because I can’t even feel my lips anymore—but also because she’s not Jenna. She’s not even the Silver Lynx.
She’s the new Jack of Hearts.
And I’m a fool.
33
JUST HANGING WITH MY SUPER
So it’s Tuesday.
Salad day, as I think I might have mentioned, though you can get the salad with a vacuum-sealed Baggie of ham cubes that look as if they might be made out of used pencil erasers. I have an apple and a granola bar in my bag, which is probably still in a Chevy Suburban somewhere, hopefully being sat on by a group of vigilante ninjas or a team of Navy SEALS, or whoever Mike could scrounge up to come rescue me. It’s Tuesday and I’m in costume, for what it’s worth, though my gadget belt is stashed away in a corner of this great big hall that I find myself in, thrown there, no doubt, while I was unconscious. Not that I would do much with it anyway. The last thing taken from that belt was used by my very best friend to knock me unconscious. I should never have shown her how to use those things.
It’s Tuesday—first week of October—and I’m dangling (again) over a giant pit in the floor of some evil mastermind’s secret lair, hidden in an abandoned factory on the outskirts of town. Unlike the other rooms in the factory, which are all dust and rust, this room sparkles with tech, the far wall bulging with computer monitors, sensors, and gadgets. It reminds me a lot of our school basement. How long this place has been here I don’t know, but I have a good guess where the money came from to furnish it—a generous donation from Kaden Enterprises, those costs easily recouped by a few knocked-over banks. After all, being a Super is expensive. I can only assume that being a villain is too.
Now imagine being both.
Because that’s what I finally realize. It’s not that the Fox and the Dealer are working together. That would be bad enough. But this is even worse. I think I realized it the moment I heard her voice, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to believe it. I had to see it with my own eyes. That they are actually one and the same.
It’s Tuesday and I’m dangling above a pit, my hands in cuffs, suspended here by a supervillain known as the Dealer, who also happens to be a superhero known as the Fox, who also happens to be the former Jack of Hearts who my Super supposedly killed so many years ago. The Fox—so good at hiding behind the mask.
And though I’m not one hundred percent positive, I’m pretty certain the pit is steadily filling with wet cement.
Seriously. Wet cement, which is actually very practical, all things considered. Much easier to get ahold of five hundred gallons of wet cement than seven hundred electric eels or two hundred poisonous snakes, and I take a miniscule measure of consolation in the fact that drowning in cement is marginally preferable to being dissolved by acid. Something at the bottom of the pit is slowly churning the bubbling gray mixture, making sure it doesn’t set yet, though I have a feeling it won’t be long. The fumes are dizzying and burn my lungs. Or maybe I’m just having a heart attack.
After all, it’s Tuesday and I’m suspended by my wrists above this pool of cement, feet dangling below me in my cracked, weather-worn Pumas, and all I can think about is how stupid I was not to see this coming. Not the whole “the Dealer is really the Fox who was once the Jack of Hearts who was really the real Dealer’s supposedly dead daughter” thing. That’s still too much to wrap my head around. I mean, really. How was I supposed to get that?
No, I mean the girl in the silver outfit with her emerald eyes and her wavy blond hair, huddled over there in the corner, looking back and forth from me to her own Super, wiping the blood from her nose on her sleeve.
I should have known because the truth is, guys like me never get the girl. Other guys get the girl. Or maybe she goes off to boarding school. Or maybe she throws in her lot with a notorious villain bent on revenge and is forced to turn on her friends and see them swallowed up in a pit of quick-drying cement. Pick your ending, they’re pretty much the same.
And that’s why I’m hanging here. Because of her.
I should have seen it coming. But I didn’t. Probably because I love her. Or love some version of her. Or loved some version of her. I’m not really sure anymore. I should hate her, of course, but I can’t. Because I know that somewhere there might be that version of her that maybe feels the same way about me.
I know because I heard her begging for my life only moments ago. When I started coming out of my ether-induced stupor and found myself chained to the ceiling, looking through blurry eyes at a Super and her sidekick arguing. The Fox was dressed in her customary attire, the white suit, sword included, though she was no longer wearing her mask, and I could see the face of Kyla Kaden clearly in the harsh fluorescent light. Jenna was waving her hands, talking quickly, breathlessly. She does that. I could tell by the motions that she was thoroughly ticked off, more angry than I’ve ever seen her before. They were speaking in whispers, easy enough for me to hear.
“You said he’d be safe.”
“That’s before you led him here. We only needed him to draw out the Titan. Now he knows too much.”
That’s when I figured out they were talking about me. I wanted to say that I actually knew a whole lot less than I thought I did yesterday or even an hour ago, but my voice hadn’t come back to me yet.
“But you told me no one else would get hurt. This wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Everything has a cost,” the Fox snarled. “Power requires sacrifice. And look at it this way—he will die a hero. You can make up whatever story about him you want. Say that he went down fighting. If you’d like, you can even say he was instrumental in the Dealer’s demise.”
I saw Jenna, or the Silver Lynx, or the Jack of Hearts, or whoever she is, shake her head. “But he hasn’t done anything,” she pleaded, which was kind of true, when you think about it.
And then
the Fox hit her, not as hard as she could, but hard enough to end the discussion. Jenna brought her hand to her face and stared at her own red, wet fingers. The Fox just glared at her.
“You made your choice,” she said. “These are the consequences. Turn on me now, and it will be the last thing you do.”
Jenna wiped the blood on her sleeve and turned to look at me, and I wanted to say something, but there was no way to keep the Fox from hearing as well. Then Jenna looked beside me.
And that’s when I noticed the man hanging next to me. In a T-shirt and blue jeans. His feet bare. His massive frame just hanging there like a huge slab of beef.
The Titan and the Sensationalist. Together at last.
Which brings me to this moment. Hanging with my Super. Though he isn’t saying or doing anything, doesn’t acknowledge me in any way, just dangles there with that look of stupid resignation on his face, as if this was all to be expected. Almost as if he deserved it. And I can’t help but feel that his dead weight is going to make me sink even faster. Jenna and the Fox are no longer speaking to each other. Jenna has retreated into the corner. The Fox stands at the computer terminals, punching buttons. I turn to the Titan, twisting around in my cuffs as much as I’m able.
“Okay. See?” I whisper. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. If you and I had spent even a little time together, we might have some really great plan for getting out of here.”
But the Titan ignores me. I look at the bank of video monitors showing the grounds outside the factory. No doubt the Fox saw me coming. I didn’t even think to look for cameras. Mr. Masters would be disappointed—though I’m guessing he’s got bigger problems as well, wherever he is. The monitors reveal nothing. There’s no one else out there. Reinforcements have yet to arrive. I try to wiggle around, see if there is any way I can free my wrists, but I’m cuffed too tight.
The woman at the console, I don’t know what to call her anymore, speaks to us without even turning around.
“Don’t bother struggling,” she says over her shoulder. “Those bindings are made from an experimental alloy that my father created with you in mind. They’re nearly unbreakable. Maybe in your prime you might have stood a chance.”
She’s obviously talking to the Titan. At the rate I’m going, I’m not sure I’ll even have a prime. The warning is unnecessary, though. The Titan doesn’t struggle. He barely keeps his head up.
“He thought of everything, my father,” the Fox-Dealer-Kyla-former Jack of Hearts says. I look over at Jenna, but she just stares at her Super, still on her knees, blood caked on her lip. “Even the day you killed him. He knew he couldn’t defeat you, so he played to your weakness. Your big, soft heart.” Kyla turns around and stares at us. The Titan doesn’t say a word. It’s as if he can’t even hear her. “It’s in the Code, isn’t it—the sanctity of life, the idea that everyone is worth saving? He knew exactly how you’d react.
“So I played dead, you took the bait, and he saved me. Those glass tubes led to tunnels that traveled to the other side of the island. Unfortunately, only I managed to get out in time. My father wasn’t so fortunate. But you knew that—you watched as the whole place came down around him.” Beside me, the Titan takes a long, deep breath, though he still makes no move to free himself. Kyla draws her sword and runs her finger along the blade. Even from here I can see how sharp it is.
“I wanted to kill you immediately, of course, but I knew I needed to be stronger. So I trained, spent some time on both sides, working for whoever would pay me, making the most of my father’s gifts, waiting for this moment. But by the time I got here, you had all but disappeared. The Titan—leader of the Legion of Justice. Gone. That’s when I realized the best way to find you was to become you.”
“Your father would be proud,” the Titan grunts, the first words he’s spoken since I found him dangling beside me.
The Fox glares at him. “He actually admired you, you know. Not for your heroics, all those lies about truth and justice and peace on earth. No. It was your tenacity. Your determination. You would have hunted him to the ends of the earth.”
“I never meant to kill him,” the Titan says.
“Don’t be so certain.” The Fox turns and looks at Jenna, who quickly looks away. “We are all capable of more than we think. I became a Super so that I could more easily hunt you down and destroy you. But then, somewhere along the line I developed a taste for it. The adoration. The fawning, gape-mouthed bystanders. My statue in the courthouse. A villain is only ever feared. But a Super is feared and loved. And that’s when I realized what I wanted most of all. Not just to be the one who defeated the Titan. But to be the only one who mattered. To be the last one standing.”
“Pretty ambitious,” the Titan says.
“I needed help, of course,” Kyla continues. “A villain to frighten the masses. Some henchmen to sweep away the opposition. And someone who could help me put all the pieces in place. Someone I could teach the way my father taught me.”
I look over at Jenna again, hoping to get her attention, but she still refuses to look up.
“When all is said and done, they will be chanting my name in the streets.”
“You’ll be a real hero,” the Titan spits.
The Fox turns her back on us again.
“Both of us know there’s no such thing,” she says. “There’s no good or evil. There are just those with power and those without. You and your Legion never understood this. My father didn’t even understand this. Your Codes and your rules and your tiresome, outdated beliefs. Your epic battles for one truth or another. Such a waste. And I’m about to put an end to it all.”
Suddenly one of the screens in the bank of monitors jumps to life, and I watch a Chevy Suburban gallop over three parking barriers and then skid to a halt just outside the factory’s front gates. The doors open, and the reinforcements pile out. Mike, Nikki, Eric. Gavin emerges from the driver’s side. H.E.R.O. has arrived. I told Mike to go get help. I should have been more specific. Still, the sight of my friends piling out of the car, all in costume, offers a sprinkling of hope on top of the big cement cake of doom I’m facing.
The Fox watches the monitor for a moment, then spins on Jenna.
“Are there any of your friends you didn’t invite?”
Jenna finally glances up at the screen with a look of concern. Her arms are wrapped around her knees. The Fox turns back to the controls and presses a few buttons. Onscreen I see a couple of metal spheres hurtling toward the other members of H.E.R.O. Attack robots. I’ve seen them before, in the training simulations back at school, though those were only for practice, their weapons systems offline. This doesn’t look like practice.
“You’d better hope that keeps them busy,” the Fox snaps at Jenna. “I think one dead sidekick on your conscience is enough, don’t you?”
“Actually I think one is overdoing it,” I mutter, but nobody pays any attention. Kyla brushes the red hair from her face and takes a deep breath, regaining her composure. She walks to the edge of the pit and looks up at us, looks up at him. “We now have exactly fifteen minutes before this whole place explodes. Of course, you won’t feel a thing,” she adds, nodding toward the cement still pumping away beneath us. “To be honest, I really thought you’d put up more of a fight.”
“That makes two of us,” I say.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” the Titan says—to her or me, I’m not sure. Still, I look at him and I can start to see something in his eyes. He isn’t looking at me or the cement already starting to thicken beneath us. He is looking at her, at the woman who spent the last several years planning her revenge, preparing for this very moment. And then I see his muscles tense, as if testing, for the first time, just how strong the cuffs really are.
And then I hear something. A whisper.
But it’s not him.
It’s Jenna.
“Listen,” she says under her breath.
I look over at her, and she catches my eye. When she speaks her lips b
arely move.
“The control panel is down and on your right.”
I twist a little. There it is. Five buttons. OPEN. CLOSE. RAISE. LOWER. RELEASE. I nod.
“If his hands were free, do you think he could catch you?”
I take another look at the Titan. He is still staring at Kyla, who is busy putting on her mask, getting back into character, ready to save the world. She probably has some grand story for how she and the Dealer battled to the death, how she almost saved the Titan and his helpless, unknown sidekick and Cryos and Hotshot and all the rest of Justicia’s Supers but was just too late. She will be the only one left, and she will be unstoppable.
I study the man hanging next to me. Could he catch me? Probably. Will he is the question.
“I’m going to count from five,” Jenna hisses through gritted teeth.
I lean in as close as I can to the Titan and whisper, “In a moment your hands will be free.”
He doesn’t respond. His eyes are bloodshot, unblinking, staring at the Fox.
“We will fall,” I add, though I’m not sure this bears stating.
He still doesn’t say anything.
“I . . . don’t . . . want . . . to . . . die,” I say, very slowly, so that he can fully appreciate the sentiment.
Finally, at last, he turns to me. The first time he’s ever looked me in the eyes.
“You won’t,” he says.
The Fox finishes adjusting her mask and turns back to the bank of monitors. I watch as Silent Death leaps up and kicks one of those little metal spheres out of the sky and Stonewall crushes one beneath his fist. Keeping the trash off the streets. I wish Mr. Masters were here to see this. Or at least to see them. I’m kind of glad he’s not here to see me right now. A voice over the intercom casually informs us that we have ten minutes to evacuate the building.
“If there’s one thing I learned from our last battle,” the Fox says over her shoulder, “it’s that there’s nothing like a good old-fashioned explosion to cover your tracks.” She turns to Jenna. “Stop sniveling and stand up. It’s time to go play hero,” she says with a soft smile, almost motherly. Then she adds, with more force, “Unless you’d prefer me to just leave you all here.” Jenna nods and straightens up. She wipes her nose one last time. She looks at me and speaks through still clenched teeth.
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