by Drew Hayes
“What?”
“Nothing. Not a damn thing. I still miss my brother just as much, but at this point, it’s just become this background pain that never really leaves or intensifies. It doesn’t give me peace, or closure, it doesn’t even stir me up enough to get pissed. I get literally nothing out of it, but I still go once or twice a year all the same.”
“You think I’m holding on to my pain too tightly.”
“No, Ralph. I think it’s holding you. These gestures, these habits, these compulsions: they aren’t ours. They’re what the holes in our heart demand from us for the ability to fall asleep at night. We’re slaves to them, but that doesn’t mean we have to be obedient ones. You need to fight back on occasion. Come live a bit, if only for tonight.”
Ralph sighed and downed the rest of his soda. “With that tongue of yours, I’m shocked you never made a run for Congress.”
“Who knows? I still might. We’re not dead yet; there are still years of potential in front of us. That’s kind of the point I was leading up to, anyway.”
“You win,” Ralph said, putting the papers in his desk. “At least the rest of the office is out this week, so I have peace and quiet to work in.”
“Way to see the bright side,” Derrick replied. He and Ralph headed out the office door, still hanging slightly ajar, and clicked the lights out as they exited.
The office went dark, though a stuck blind allowed a small amount of illumination from the pale-yellow street lights outside. This rogue light was just enough to cause a glare on the single picture that sat on Ralph Chapman’s desk. It was at least a decade old, taken in a park that had been paved over to create a smoothie shop. In it was a much younger Ralph Chapman, wearing a smile that would have seemed entirely out of place on the face he now possessed. He was crouched down in the grass, his wide arms outstretched as he hugged a pair of young girls, the eldest no older than five years old.
155.
“You need to take a break.”
George didn’t have to look to see who was talking. After working with her for so long, he knew Persephone’s voice without a second glance. He didn’t spare her a glance, though, staying in position on the stone floor of the warehouse. It would have been cold had he been in human form, but his body was metallic, with wires running from his arm to a small computer set up on a wooden table.
“This thing isn’t going to crack itself.”
“And you’re not going to beat it in the time it takes to come have lunch,” Persephone said. “He’s big on family meals, especially during the holidays. You know that.”
“Family. Don’t tell me you’re buying into all that shit.”
“He can be pretty persuasive.”
“Of course he can, look at what he’s talked us all into doing.” George finally turned toward his fellow former coach. She was leaner than she had been at Lander, closer to the fighting shape she’d worn during her Hero days. That wasn’t surprising; the only thing to do around here was train. The others, at least, had some ability to move about in the real world. For George, Persephone, and Gerard, though, such things were impossible. They were wanted criminals, and one person spotting them would potentially bring down the entire operation. At least Globe had the ability to create the illusion that he was someone else, though, unless there was business, he kept himself confined with the others. He never said why, but he didn’t have to: he was the kind of man who would suffer with his troops rather than use his status as grounds for special treatment.
“So save us all the trouble of him walking in here and making a speech, and just come eat lunch.”
“Fine. But only because I’ve been here for twenty hours and probably need some damn food anyway.” George unplugged the connection from his arm to the computer, and then stood. “I don’t buy in with any of this ‘family’ or ‘togetherness’ stuff. I’m here for the job, nothing else.”
“Even though that sentiment is why we spent months planning and executing your jailbreak?”
“Please, you just needed someone to crack the cipher. If you’d managed to find someone else you could trust, I’d still be locked up, getting smacked around by guards for my smart mouth.”
“No, George, you wouldn’t be. And you know it.” Persephone stared at him unflinchingly, and George felt his stubborn resolve weaken. After what had happened to her, the fact that she was able to trust someone the way she trusted Globe was tremendous. She needed the belief in him the same way George needed his anger and guilt. It was what kept them trudging forward, even though they’d fallen so far from grace.
“Fine, so he would have gotten me anyway. But I bet it wouldn’t have been as quick or as flashy.”
“Most people don’t consider a year ‘quick.’”
“Most people don’t know how well guarded that fucking hellhole was. Of course, it would have been a lot easier if he hadn’t been determined to avoid casualties.”
“Yes, but that wouldn’t be him. And you know you wouldn’t have wanted to get out that way. Not by killing people doing their jobs.”
“I don’t know, a few were pretty enthusiastic with the discipline. I might not have minded seeing them get put down.”
“And if you were working there, you wouldn’t have done the same?”
Persephone had him there, so George decided to change the subject.
“What’s for lunch, anyway?”
“Dressing, green beans, potatoes, the usual sides. Oh, and Gerard made a Turducken.”
George shifted back to human just in time for his face to scrunch up in a mix of worry and disgust. “Christ, isn’t that the abomination of a chicken stuffed in a duck stuffed in a turkey?”
“It is, and you’ll eat a big portion. Gerard worked all through the night on it.”
George shook his head, but followed Persephone out of the room anyway. “I know we live in a world where people have the powers of gods and demons, but even to me, that just seems . . . wrong.”
* * *
Chad sat on the porch, staring up at the stars. Though the crisp evening air tried to invade his skin, he kept his body at the optimal temperature. Sometimes, he wondered what it was like to have a normal body, one that bucked and ran wild, doing whatever it pleased despite the brain’s commands. It always sounded terrible when others described it, but then again, so had emotional entanglement. Angela had proved that not to be nearly as unpleasant as he’d expected.
“See any new constellations?” Blaine—only Blaine while here in the house—stepped out from the kitchen and looked up at the sky. His power afforded him no protection from the cold, so he wore a thick jacket that was a bit too small in the shoulders for him.
“Nothing so far. Has Mom calmed down?”
“Moderately. She’s at least stopped trying to pry Angela’s contact information out of me in order to invite her over. Honestly, Chad, you really didn’t tell your mother you were seeing someone this whole semester?”
“It didn’t seem relevant to my progress.”
“Look, you can pull the totally oblivious act around the other students, but I know you’re smart enough to realize your mother would care about you having your first girlfriend.”
“Perhaps I was worried her reaction would be a bit more . . . enthusiastic than I wanted to deal with.”
“So instead, you let me blurt it out over Christmas dinner. Smooth.” Blaine sank into a wooden chair next to his godson, eyes still sweeping the heavens. “How have things been going between you two, anyway?”
“Chaotic. We both were so caught up in the end of semester training that we saw each other infrequently. Normally, I would be concerned, but Angela seems to fare well in a chaotic environment.”
“She’s a . . . special one.” Even amidst the menagerie of students Blaine dealt with year after year, Angela DeSoto was a rare creature. He wasn’t sure he’d have set her up with his godson if given the choice, but that’s why it wasn’t his to make. Part of love was finding odd combinations that s
omehow fit, and part of being young was making painful mistakes in pursuit of that pairing.
“Indeed she is. I seem to have a large amount of interesting, special people in my life.”
“You’re still mad I told you not to ask what Mary and the others were doing, I take it?”
“Ah, good. I worried I hadn’t used the right tone to convey my annoyance.”
“No, you did a surprisingly good job,” Blaine said. He meant it, too; Chad was slowly getting more adept at the subtleties of human interaction. It was the sort of thing he could have mastered as a child, if he’d ever cared. “You just have to trust me for now. If you ask them, they’ll tell you, and then you’re involved in something you don’t need to be. I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“I have not spent my life training to be safe. I’ve done it to be the one protecting others. While I respect your sentiment, it seems to me very misplaced. If I am unable to handle the danger of what you’re facing, then perhaps I don’t possess the qualifications to be a Hero.”
“Not all danger is physical, Chad. And not everyone is meant to handle the same problems. You wouldn’t claim to be able to fill in for a Ranged Combat Hero, not adequately, so don’t assume your skill means you can deal with any problem.” Blaine turned his eyes from the sky to the young man sitting next to him. Had things gone just a bit differently, this would be his house, Miriam his wife, and some incarnation of Chad his son. But they hadn’t gone that way, and now, he was just a visitor to the life he might have once possessed. Even looking in from the outside, he still couldn’t help but love them.
“We’ve been working together to make you a Hero since you were a child. Has my training or advice ever steered you wrong?”
“No. Not once.”
“Then believe me when I say that, right now, the ignorance is for your own good. There are things going on, things that can end careers. The only way for you to be blameless is for you to be knowledge-less. I’m already risking a lot, please don’t make me risk your future too.”
Chad looked at Blaine and nodded. Much as he disliked being kept in the dark, he knew without question that Blaine would never do something without good reason. He’d always been there for Chad, always watched over him. There was zero doubt in Chad’s mind that Blaine would never betray him. “For now. I don’t like it, but I will abide by it, for now.”
“That’s all I can ask,” Blaine said.
“Chad!” Miriam’s voice rang out from the house. “I found your cell phone and got this Angela girl’s number. What day do you want me to invite her over for a visit?”
“I blame you for this,” Chad muttered, as he rose from his seat.
“Maybe Angela won’t come?”
“Certainly, the chance to meet my mother, dig up dirt on me, and cause mischief. That is exactly the sort of thing Angela is likely to turn down.”
For better or worse, Chad was definitely getting better at sarcasm.
156.
The start of the spring semester was still two days away as Nick Campbell piloted his new SUV into the parking lot a few blocks from Lander’s campus. Jerome and Eliza were taking the same car they’d left in, but Nick had opted to head back solo. This was both because he wanted some time alone with his thoughts, and because someone had to bring his new ride down. He’d been a bit tempted, however fleetingly, to pull the Bug out of storage, but had ultimately decided against it. Best to start off a new semester with a new set of wheels, ones Nathaniel wouldn’t immediately know belonged to him. Admittedly, it wouldn’t be much of a gap before his rival learned of the car switch, but it would be a window all the same. Besides, Nick could fit the rest of his friends in a vehicle this size, and that would make their inevitable commutes much easier.
Slamming down the rear door, Nick pulled out his two suitcases and headed up the stairs. Security people working for an associate of Ms. Pips should have finished their sweep of the apartment no less than half an hour before his arrival, and Nathaniel was confirmed to be still in Las Vegas. If there was ever a time to return safely, this was it. True, he probably shouldn’t have sped off, ditching Eliza and Jerome, but Nick just hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d only knifed two of their tires, after all, so they shouldn’t be too far behind him. Nick just wanted a bit of time to be alone in his apartment before the pestering reignited.
Unfortunately, as he swung open the front door, Nick realized his desire for solitude was destined to go unfulfilled. Prof—Sean Pendleton was sitting on the couch, having helped himself to a beer, and was watching television.
“You didn’t strike me as the football type,” Nick said, dropping the suitcases by the door.
“Because I’m lean and lanky? Give me a little credit. I can still appreciate the athleticism.”
“I was actually referring to your love of romance novels,” Nick explained. He shut the door and relocked it. From what he could tell, Sean hadn’t used any sort of forced entry to break in. As one of the few people on Lander’s campus who knew his former teacher’s power, this didn’t surprise Nick in the slightest.
“A man can love fine writing and bone-crushing sports. We’re multi-layered creatures like that. Mind grabbing me a fresh beer?”
Nick obliged the request; the beers were for company in the first place. While in the kitchen, he mixed himself a gin and soda as well, bringing both into the living room. He set his former teacher’s beer down in front of him, and then took a seat in a nearby recliner.
“Are you going to make me guess why you broke in?”
“Sort of sad that there are so many options, aren’t there?” Sean said, grabbing his cold beverage. “Could be about the homework I gave you, could be to see how you dealt with that guy who was following you last semester—yes, we knew about that—or it could be about that card you left me just before your mind got wiped.” Sean took a long sip of the freshly opened beer. “Why don’t we make sure your skills are still sharp: try and deduce which it is.”
“Fine.” Nick leaned back in the recliner, adopting a position that made him appear far more relaxed than he actually was. “Given the nature of the homework, you’ll likely want Blaine here when we discuss it.”
“That’s Dean Blaine.”
“In that case, you can call me King Nick, since we’re adopting superfluous titles.”
“Except he actually is a dean.”
“But not my dean, which makes the distinction irrelevant.”
“Humor me.”
Nick rolled his eyes, but decided not to dwell on an issue of etiquette for longer than he had to. “My point still stands, if it were the homework, you’d want Dean Blaine here, Professors Stone and Fletcher likely as well.”
“We never told you Fletcher was part of our circle.”
“Please, he was brought on at the same time as you, after George and Persephone’s betrayal. Add in his close association with Mr. Numbers and Mr. Transport, and it becomes clear he was brought on board for the express purpose of being someone to trust. May I continue now?”
Sean gave a small nod and took another sip of his beer.
“If you were aware of the matter of the man who was stalking us, then you also know it was never really us he was interested in. I’m not quite sure how much you know about his employer, but even based solely on the subject of his investigations, I can conclude you wouldn’t want to have that talk in a place like this. Especially without Dean Blaine to offer some assurances of privacy.”
“We know about the employer,” Sean replied. “Which should tell you that you’re spot on about this neither being the time nor place to discuss it.”
“That would seem to leave us with only the third option, but there’s a problem with that.” Nick set his glass down carefully, turning so his eyes met the professor’s. “In the semester I was . . . indisposed, there is no way you didn’t do some investigating on your own. By now, you should have learned about Alice’s incident on Halloween, and about the facilitator who broached
Vince’s subconscious. Even if Mr. Numbers and Mr. Transport didn’t fill you in, I’m sure Professor Stone rummaged all around our minds while we were dealing with the ice-tomb. So, by now, you already know how I figured out your sister was alive. There’s not much more on that front to convey.”
Nick picked his drink back up and pressed it to lips that were already smiling. “Thus, I must conclude that it is none of the options you presented. Those were given to throw me off, to lead me to the belief that it must have been one of them, which was a fallacy. No, having ruled out each of those, I am left with only one conclusion at the reason for your presence: you wanted someone to watch the football game with, and no one else is back from break yet.”
“Some of them are around, just busy. Plus, you have beer,” Sean said.
“So I do. When Eliza arrives, I’ll have her stock the fridge.”
“I always knew you were smarter than most kids your age.” Sean finished the beer and set it down, his long face growing suddenly serious. “But you know that soon, very soon, we will have to talk about all that other stuff. And it’s going to lead to places, and actions, that are likely to be very unpleasant.”
“The terms of my service were made exceedingly clear,” Nick replied.
“I’m just saying, when you know there’s a lot of darkness on the horizon, try to enjoy the good days. Drinking beers, watching the game, relaxing; that stuff. The chances for it slip away faster than you can imagine.”
Nick stared at the older man for some while. In a way, they were much the same: men who were no longer part of the Hero world, yet were still bound to its service. Amidst the sentinels of justice and decency, they were the ones whose hands were already dirty, and could bear the weight of a little more filth when the time came. The others might love them, trust them, and respect them, but they would never understand them. Those who lived in the light could never truly know what it was to dwell in the shadows.
“Is this your way of asking me for another beer?”