But this was it. At last he’d found someone like him. A living person, not the fuzzy memory of one of Swarm’s victims.
Back in Thibault’s body, the sensations of shock and wonder raged: the thundering heart, the held breath, goose bumps scrambling over his skin. But inside this bubble with her, it was all Zen calm. The crowd noise was muted, their darting attention strands passing straight through the girl.
Like him, she had retreated from the real world, slipped into the Nowhere behind everything.
She didn’t look very Zen. She looked homeless and dirty, when she could stroll into any hotel she wanted for a room, a shower. Starving, when she could grab food from any market or restaurant.
But Thibault remembered the redwoods, living in this world-behind-the-world, not sure what the point of eating was. He’d been like this. She was just like him. He’d lost his own body, his friends, even—
He spun round. No one but strangers. No Flicker.
He’d forgotten her again, for an instant. And she in turn had lost the memory of him, the thought of him, and walked away.
Of course, there were two Anons here – twice the power of forgetting.
That felt dangerous.
But he couldn’t retreat. She was another Anonymous, right here in front of him.
‘Hey there,’ he said.
‘Not this again.’ She wasn’t looking at him. She kept pacing, tossing back her dark hair.
‘You’ve seen me before?’
She waved him off with one dirty hand. ‘Don’t have time for ghosts today. Too much going on.’
A sightline flicked out from the crowd, brushed her, slid right off again. It was so strange to see that happen to someone else. Recognition rushed through him – along with a pang of pity.
She was gone so far into the Nowhere, she thought Thibault was from her own imagination. How long since she’d talked to anyone besides herself?
‘I’m not in your head – I’m real.’
‘Real?’ She turned to the crowd and flung her arms wide so that he had to jump back out of the way. ‘What’s real is carnival! Beautiful weather, tourist money flowing in, every sparkle and feather in place. The stage is set. We’re ready for a show!’
No one looked. No one listened.
He tried again. ‘You’re not making me up. My name’s Thibault Durant.’
She still didn’t face him,but her expression shifted. Suspicion.
‘That sounds exactly like a name I’d come up with. Fancy and French.’
Thibault sighed. ‘That’s my parents for you.’
He dared to put his hand on the shoulder of her sweaty shirt. She went very still.
‘I’m Anonymous, like you,’ he said. ‘Some people call us Stalkers.’
Her hand came up and touched his, exploratory, disbelieving. She kept gazing out into the crowd.
‘You’ve got to understand,’ she said. ‘My brain’s always splitting off and chatting with me. I’m probably not well.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Thibault said. ‘Maybe I can help.’
Her hand dropped away, and so did his.
She looked down at her shoulder, pushed out her lips thoughtfully. ‘When people start talking to me, means I need to drink water.’
‘Let me get you some.’
He took her arm again and led her through the jostling crowds, toward a store with vaporizers and Mardi Gras beads in the window. A cooler sat outside, full of sodas and waters swimming in ice.
He grabbed a bottle and thrust it, cold and dripping, into her hand.
‘There,’ he said. ‘Could an imaginary friend do that?’
She took a long swig, then another. Her gaze skated past into the crowds, though her attention was very firmly attached to him.
‘Some days, yeah.’
‘You know there are other people like you, right?’ he asked. ‘People with powers?’
She snorted. ‘Oh, I know all about that. This town is full of them.’
Thibault swallowed, remembering the cluster of pins in the map. And Chizara had found twenty other Crashes? The thought of twenty Anons was too much.
He pushed it away. ‘What’s your name?’
She flashed a false grin. ‘I don’t need a name.’
Her faraway look gave him the creeps, and his own gaze darted between her and the crowd flowing along behind her. He was afraid one or the other would fade from sight.
This girl was like he’d been a week ago. Held here by the faintest scraps of her individuality, poised in this fragile balance, one step away from merging with the universe.
But his friends had saved him. Hanging on to reality was all about staying connected to other human beings.
‘So you know people with powers. You have friends, right?’
She looked at him, straight on at last, that eyebrow raised again.
‘I had friends, yeah.’
‘What did they call you?’
‘They called me…Rien.’
Thibault stared at her – Rien was French for ‘nothing’. The same name Flicker and Lily had called him in their stories.
It hit him again – she was someone just like him.
‘If you’re real, you have to be careful.’ Rien took hold of his shirt front. ‘You think you’re solid, with your fancy name and your nice manners. But we nobodies have trouble with big crowds like this. Last Mardi Gras, we lost a couple of guys just like you. Nice-dressed boys, who shaved every day and laced their shoes up tight.’
‘I know all about it,’ he said. ‘I almost faded out once.’
Rien’s eyes widened, and something like respect shaded her expression.
‘And you made it back? Good for you. I wouldn’t stick around for Fat Tuesday, though. You can only hold out for so long, if you’re not used to it. I was born here, so I’m good. But you…’
‘I hear you.’ Thibault was already having to lean away from the force of the Nowhere that surrounded Rien. He tried to focus on solid, real things – the ground under his feet, the smell of spilled beer.
He wondered where Flicker was now. Lost in the crowd? Still trying to find Verity with the tracker?
Looking for her boyfriend?
‘And this Fat Tuesday’s going to be special,’ Rien said.
Thibault stared at her. ‘What do you mean?’
She stared off into the distance, like she was trying to remember something. For a moment he thought he’d lost her again, but then her eyes came back to him, fixed and certain.
‘Piper. The girl who gave me my name.’
He nodded, holding her gaze. ‘She’s the boss around here, right?’
She recoiled. ‘You work for her?’
‘No.’ He reached out, took her shoulder again. ‘But she kidnapped someone, and I’m trying to find them. Do you know where Piper is? What she’s planning?’
Rien shrugged his hand off, took a long drink of water.
‘She used to care about knowing me. Remembering me. Taking notes to keep me in her head.’
Thibault had to smile. ‘I’ve got a friend like that.’
‘Piper’s an ex-friend. But for a while she had me recruiting. All over the damn country, picking up people like us. Extending her reach.’
Now her voice had lost all its vagueness and turned hard and bitter.
‘Not anymore?’ he asked.
‘Not once I found out what she was up to.’ She shuddered, and the shudder went through the world itself…
The backdrop of crowds and music shimmered, froze. The last threads of noise and boisterousness stopped leaking through the veil, leaving them both in a vast silence. The crowd faces turned gray, mouthing and flickering like old silent movies.
Thibault felt himself slipping away, thinning out, like when he thought of Quinton Wallace, like when he smelled acrid gunpowder.
‘Stay with me.’ He took her arm, squeezed hard. ‘Stay here in the real!’
She looked right into his eyes, unblinking. ‘I realized w
hat I’d helped set in motion. But it was too late to stop it.’
‘To stop what?’
Rien’s eyes closed and her brow furrowed, like thinking about it was too much. Behind her the crowd’s movements slowed and faded, and Thibault felt himself waver again.
‘She’s going to raise the Mardi Gras flag,’ Rien said. ‘Purple, green, and gold.’
Thibault shook his head. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Purple for justice, green for faith, gold for power.’
Now he could see the crowd moving, not just beyond Rien but through her face and her body.
And through his own grasping hand.
He let go as if she’d stung him. ‘Try to stay with—’
‘Justice for the bankers who did us wrong. Faith in the truth. And power for us.’
Far away, Thibault’s body shuddered, his spine turning to ice.
‘Power for people with powers.’ Rien’s voice was racked with guilt. ‘But ashes for everyone else. And I helped her put it together. Millions of people, and it’s all my fault.’
‘What’s going to happen?’ he demanded. But she was fading…
Everything was fading, paling, bleaching, the crowd turning to blobs on the backdrop. Thibault felt himself tipping forward into the blur of Nowhere, joining her, disconnecting too. For a moment he felt the lure of namelessness, the luxury of stretching out thin, letting holes open up in him…
‘Flicker.’
His body had said it. His mind reached out to grasp the thought as the girl’s sleeve dissolved between his fingertips.
And when he reached for the girl again, there was no arm for him to grab, no body at all. Her name was gone, that wisp of meaning, in the roar of the massive carnival crowd, in the fast, bright attention thronging among them.
The girl had gone to nothing.
Leaving him at the edge, his own name in tatters, about to topple over.
‘ETHAN? IS THAT YOU IN THERE?’
Even in the roiling crowd of costumed Mardi Gras fans, Sonia stood out. She wore silver microshorts and a tight velvet vest, and her purple hair fell to her bare shoulders. The sun shone through a spray of white feathers that stuck straight up from her beaked mask.
She was astonishingly hot.
Ethan sighed. He’d never thought of Sonia as out of his league before, but ever since his stupid voice opened its big mouth about his crush, that was all he could think about. Sonia was the kind of girl he’d always be playing catch-up with.
‘That’s your costume?’ She bent forward, laughing. ‘Teenage Mutant—’
‘Hey, it was cheap, okay!’ Ethan said.
Free, actually, with a little help from the voice. He’d found it in a bargain bin on Lafayette – the only costume he’d seen that would cover him from head to toe. Now that Ethan had the feds and Piper’s crew watching for him, there was no such thing as too much disguise.
Sonia was still laughing. ‘I can barely hear you!’
Ethan lifted the mask a little to free his mouth. ‘What are you supposed to be? A giant bird?’
He flinched at the way it sounded. His first attempt at a compliment, and it had come out snarky. He should have used the voice.
But Sonia grinned. ‘Exactly what I was going for. A raptor hunting for weirdness!’
Ethan smiled as he pulled his mask down. Somehow he and Sonia were on the same wavelength. Maybe he could use his own words with her.
‘We have to keep moving,’ Ethan said. ‘I’m supposed to be hunting too.’
‘For who?’ Sonia held up both hands. ‘Wait! Don’t tell me anything! I don’t want to blab if Verity shows up. That’s why I wore a mask – so she couldn’t follow me again.’
‘Not a problem,’ Ethan said. ‘She’s the person we’re looking for.’
Sonia stopped, stared. ‘Shouldn’t we be avoiding her?’
‘You’d think, right? But finding her leads to Piper, who’s, like, the Zeroes boss of this town. And who has some kind of big, city-destroying plan.’ Ethan shook his head. ‘If it were up to me, I’d be halfway to Mexico.’
Sonia smiled. ‘Then I’m happy it’s not up to you. It’s kind of fun having you around.’
Ethan was glad for the costume then. He could feel his face burning.
He didn’t dare say anything, in case it came out in a squeak. It had been humiliating enough, telling the other Zeroes about his crush on Sonia. He didn’t want to make the same slip in front of her.
Maybe that was why his fellow Scams were so hard to find. They’d all embarrassed themselves so much that they’d taken Buddhist vows of silence, and were now hiding in caves till the end of the world.
Which was scheduled for tomorrow.
He pulled out the bulky rebuilt phone Chizara had given him. ‘This is supposed to find Verity. She got kidnapped, right in front of me. Glitch was there!’
‘That cow who busted up the Dish?’ Sonia said. ‘Man, she messed up my wrist that night. Still hurts when I type.’
‘She sucks,’ Ethan agreed.
Sonia pointed at the phone. ‘How does that thing find someone?’
‘There’s a tracker on Verity. This little baby makes a noise if we get within range.’ He showed her the phone’s screen – a street map. ‘My search area is here, east along the water. It’s out of the crowds, at least.’
Ethan realized he was telling Sonia everything. Was that because he trusted her now? Or because he had a crush on her?
Maybe it was the same thing.
She was nodding, taking it all in. But then her eyes narrowed.
‘You didn’t build this thing, did you?’
‘Hell, no. How could I even…’ He froze for a second. ‘Oh, right.’
Sonia was giving him the hairy eyeball of suspicion. ‘So your Zeroes pals are in town? Not in Saint Louis anymore?’
He’d forgotten that lie. There was no point in sticking to it. Verity couldn’t pump Sonia for information if she was Piper’s prisoner.
‘About that – the others were always here,’ Ethan said. ‘I made up that stuff about Saint Louis.’
Sonia nodded,like she’d already figured that out,and punched him on the arm. Nowhere near as hard as Jess would have. His army-trained sister could leave a bruise with her pinkie finger.
‘That’s for lying,’ Sonia said.
‘Ow,’ Ethan obliged.
‘No, I get it. You had to be careful what you told me, because of Verity. It’s just…’ She turned away, letting out a huff of frustration. ‘It’s one thing, helping you out – the feds just want you for questioning. But your buddy Nate is an escaped fugitive. That’s serious aiding and abetting. Like Verity said, I could go to prison!’
Ethan hadn’t thought about it that way. He was used to the idea that any slipups meant the slammer for him and all his friends. But Sonia, too?
‘I guess that changes things,’ he mumbled.
‘I cannot do prison, Ethan.’
‘It’s not high on my bucket list either!’ He shuffled his mutant-toed feet. ‘So I get it if you just want to…stay away from me.’
‘Ha!’ She punched his arm again, this time harder. ‘As if. Just promise that if they put me in jail, you’ll bust me out like you did Nate. Then I’d really be famous.’
‘Well, I can’t exactly promise,’ Ethan replied. ‘But I’ll try.’
And he realized that it was true. He would march back into a supermax if it meant freeing Sonia Sonic.
Geez. He had it bad.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘If we can find Verity and rescue her, the feds might give you a medal instead.’
They walked on Rampart, along the edge of Ethan’s search area. It was crowded this close to the Quarter, even in the early afternoon. Styles of music clashed from every direction, and people elbowed past each other, drinking from plastic cups, eating street food wrapped in wax paper.
No pings from the rebuilt phone, though.
After a few minutes Sonia said, ‘So I
’ve been thinking about what Verity said. About your power.’
‘Me too. It’s so not fair.’
Sonia stared at him. ‘What isn’t?’
‘Everything!’ He had a voice inside him that was omniscient, but it never talked to him. How about telling him whether he was going to die in prison or not? Or if Sonia was really into him, or just liked him because he kept making her famous? ‘I’ve got this awesome power, but it’s really hard to control. I just wish I could find another person like me. We could compare notes!’
Sonia nodded. ‘Yeah. I’ve been asking around about that.’
Ethan came up short. ‘About what?’
‘About your power. Whether anybody at WeirdCon has heard of someone with omniscience.’
Ethan grabbed her elbow and steered her gently off the main street, until they were huddled against a brick wall.
‘You told them about my power?’
‘Relax,’ Sonia said. ‘I didn’t tell them you were in town. Just that I had a theory about what you are. Everybody’s seen my video of you talking to the bank robber. It’s, like, Weird-Hunter 101.’
‘Stupid video,’ he muttered.
‘Yeah. My bad.’ Sonia hoisted off her mask and frowned. ‘But I didn’t know you then. You were just some guy who tried to talk to me about Patty Low. But at least that video gives me an excuse to ask about you. Do you want to hear what I found out or not?’
Ethan hesitated.
What he really wanted was to find out if Sonia liked him. Because if he died during Piper’s psycho parade, he wanted someone to remember him not as a superpowered terrorist, but as a messed-up, freaked-out human being. A guy who’d always thought he’d live long enough to flunk his SATs.
But he didn’t know how to ask that, so he went with ‘Okay. What did they say?’
‘People have figured out a lot of powers,’ Sonia said. ‘We all know about people who mess up technology. People who control crowds. Who give you brain freezes. But as far as we can tell, there’s no one else like you.’
Ethan blinked. Seriously? Not one nutball weird-hunter had ever read a half-baked news story that screamed Ethan Cooper is not alone?
He had a lump in his throat the size of a bowling ball, and for once it had nothing to do with the voice.
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