Superheroes Suck

by Jamie Zakian

  Lucius glanced at Cyrus in the passenger seat. “You used our middle names?”

  “Yeah. Nobody knows who we are.”

  “You could’ve used any names, but you didn’t want to lie to her.”

  The flap in the divider slammed closed, which muffled out the rumble of their voices. Evie pressed her ear against the divider’s cool metal. Over the hum of tires, she couldn’t hear a thing.

  Cyrus had to care for her. All those nights he snuck into her condo after Shay went to sleep, the hours they spent together talking, laughing, cuddling in each other’s arms couldn’t have been faked. He cooked for her, rubbed her feet while watching TV shows he hated, helped her find investors for the … Superhero Policing Unit.

  Of course. It was always about superheroes. She split the real heroes focus, distracted Simon, Alexie, and Max for the villains. She was a villain. No, she was the enabler of a villain. Oh God, no, she was the girlfriend of a supervillain.

  “Look, right there.” Shay’s voice echoed throughout the lab as she pointed at the computer’s screen. “It’s a person, holding Hetal.”

  Simon leaned over Max’s shoulder to stare at the fuzzy camera feed, which played in slow motion on a computer’s display. “There has to be a way to clear up this video.”

  “I’m running it through a series of filters,” Max said, typing at a mile-a-minute. “And … there.”

  He hit the enter key and the video reset, playing in mega-slow motion. “It’s going frame-by-frame, at half-speed. This is the frame.”

  They all leaned closer to the computer, bumping heads.

  “You can see Hetal,” Max said, his finger hovering in front of the screen. “She turns, like she heard something, falls to the ground, levitates, and …”

  Shay strained to keep her eyelids open, afraid to blink and miss the whole thing. The video flashed. A faint silhouette of a dark figure showed on the screen. The staticy shadow of a person picked Hetal off the ground. Then, they were both gone.

  “Antiserum,” Shay said, not really sure why. She’d only seen a millisecond of a maybe-person holding Hetal, but she knew it was him. His creepy vibe still clung to her lab.

  “Do you have a picture of Dr. Mayhem without the mask?”

  “Yeah.” Max typed while glancing at Shay. “What are you thinking?”

  “It’s kind of crazy.” A picture popped onto the screen and Shay’s jaw dropped. She recognized the man’s honey-tinged eyes, his dimples that spawned dimples. “I’ve seen this man before.”

  “When you were taken?” Simon asked.

  “Yes, but no. In my condo, two months ago. I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and he walked out of it. Then crept into Evie’s bedroom.”

  Both Max and Simon turned to stare at Shay. The mixture of confusion in Simon’s eyes and the shock on Max’s face was hilarious, but this wasn’t a laughing occasion.

  “What?” Shay said in a bark. “Evie’s been sneaking football player-looking dudes in at night since she was sixteen. It was kind of pointless after the accident, since nobody was there to care what she did.”

  Max leaned back in his chair. “Did Cyrus see you, say anything?”

  “Yeah. He shushed me, so I hated him instantly.”

  “Naturally,” Max said.

  Shay nodded, even though Max was taunting her. “He said he was invisible. That I didn’t see him. I completely forgot about it until just now.”

  She looked at the computer, at that man’s smile. Cyrus Fitzgerald Grant, the esteemed Dr. Grant, the terrifying Dr. Mayhem, would need a new title added to his bio: the soon-to-be dead man who messed with her sister. “Invisible. This profile says Cyrus has a PhD in astrophysics.”

  “And mechanical engineering,” Simon said with a hint of awe. “Cyrus is a genius.”

  “Why?” Max asked.

  Shay shooed Max away from the computer. She minimized the photo of Cyrus and opened the map with the energy signatures.

  “There’s still a bunch of blips at the asylum’s location. They made it invisible. That’s how Antiserum got in here to take Hetal, and Evie, why we couldn’t see the asylum.”

  Simon shook his head. “Invisibility is not possible.”

  “Anything’s possible. With certain metamaterials, one could alter wavelengths, distort visible light.”

  The wheels in Shay’s brain kept turning. She could almost see the lens, wires, and transistors come together to form this theoretical creation.

  “Gradient-index materials could reduce the diffraction limit, drop the perception of an image well below minimum resolution.”

  Max looked lost, more so than Simon. “In English?”

  “They made a cloaking device,” Shay said in a groan, which seemed to be simple enough for the dummy crowd to understand. She missed Hetal. She really missed Evie. She’d even take Alexie over these two lunkheads.

  “Where’s Alexie?”

  A string of Mandarin grumbles burst from Simon’s mouth as he looked away.

  “Are you guys breaking up?” Shay asked, weaving to catch a glimpse of Simon’s face. “Is that why she’s been scarce?”

  “Ha!” Max snickered. “That’s a good one.”

  Simon glared at Max. “Her aunt’s sick, Parkinson’s.”

  “Oh. I thought Alexie grew up in foster care. Isn’t that how she met Max?”

  Max crossed his arms. He looked beyond Shay, at Simon’s flustered expression.

  “Right,” Simon said, softly. “Her friend then.”

  “I’m not trying to get in your business.” Shay typed a quick code on the computer’s keyboard, which switched the map to a live satellite feed. “Look, the asylum’s visible again. I think we should go back. We can sneak in and rescue Evie and Hetal. Lucius and Cyrus won’t be expecting us.”

  Simon glanced at his cell phone. “It’s almost midnight. And Alexie—”

  “We won’t need Alexie,” Shay said. The whininess in her own voice annoyed even her, but she was helpless to tone down her desperation. “It’ll be easier in a small group. No fighting, just a quick smash and grab.”

  “No,” Simon said, and Max snorted. “We should get some rest, wait for Alexie, and go in as a team.”

  “But—”

  Max placed his hand on Shay’s shoulder. “Simon’s right. We should wait.”

  “Fine.” Shay threw herself back into her chair, its squeak lost under her huff. “It’s stupid, but whatever.”

  “Will you be all right tonight, on your own?” Simon asked.

  “I’ll stay with her,” Max said.

  More grumbles erupted from Simon’s mouth, this time a colorful mix of slurs in English and Mandarin.

  “What?” Max held his arms out at his sides as he rolled his chair away from Shay. “I meant on the couch.”

  “Sure you did,” Simon grumbled on his way out of the lab.

  “Hey,” Max called out before Simon could round the corner. “Don’t lecture me from your closet.”

  “Closet?” Shay said.

  “You know what?” Max knelt in front of Shay and a sly gaze flared within his eyes. “I think you’re right. It would be a good idea to sneak over to the asylum and grab our girls back.”

  Shay scooted to the edge of her seat, a grin puffing her cheeks. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Thirty minutes, and Simon should be passed out. Then we’ll head over, get your sister back.”

  “And my assistant.” Shay jumped up from her chair. She hurried to her workbench, switching out her lab coat for a tactical vest.

  The van rocked to a stop and Evie fell to her side. It was impossible for her to gain a sense of balance with her hands cuffed behind her back, especially when a madman was at the van’s wheel.

  A soft groan erupted from Hetal’s mouth and Evie shuffled back to her knees. The chain of her handcuffs clinked as she leaned over Hetal.

  “Hetal,” she whispered and H
etal’s garbled moans grew louder. “Can you hear me?”

  “What happened?” Hetal asked in a slur. She stayed flat on her back, rubbing her eyes in slow jerky motions.

  “I need you to get up. We have to fight.”

  “Fight?” Hetal mumbled. “Evie? You’ve been rescued.”

  “No. You’ve been abducted.”

  “What?” That seemed to spark a fire under Hetal, as she sat upright with a jolt. She rubbed her head, looking around the dark empty van.

  “Is this where you’ve been, in the back of a van?” She grabbed the handle on the side door, only to find it locked.

  “No. I was at the asylum. I have no idea where we are now.”

  Hetal drew her knees to her chest and held herself tight. “What do they want with us?”

  “Nothing good I’m sure. I’m handcuffed.” Evie turned to show Hetal the new, uncomfortable jewelry she’d acquired. “I need you to fight.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you.” Evie strained to display courage as she stared at Hetal, instead of the fear that actually gripped her. “When the door opens—”

  The van’s side door slid open. Lucius crowded its doorway in his clunky plastic suit, but he wasn’t wearing his mask. He looked more sinister without it. Evie could easily excuse the malicious things Antiserum did when he looked like a monster, but without the mask he was just another person—a man—the man responsible for her parents’ death.

  “What?” he asked, a light smile on his lips. “I’m curious to know, what should she do when the door opens?”

  “Grab that metal shard at her feet and jab it in your neck,” Evie said in a snarl. She glanced at Hetal, then at the pointed piece of steel right next to Hetal’s unbound hands.

  Hetal’s shoulders grew stiff. Her eyes widened and Lucius laughed.

  “It wouldn’t do anything.” He picked the razor-sharp slice of metal off the van’s floor. “Except get the girl killed.”

  Streetlights shined on the jagged shard as he lifted it high. He slammed the metal’s sharped end against his own palm and it bent, folding in half, without leaving a scratch on his skin.

  “That’s fine,” Evie said, holding a harsh glare. “My sister’s gonna track you down and blast your ass to bits.”

  “Hey, Cyrus,” Lucius yelled over his shoulder. “Your woman’s kinda cute, tough.”

  His grin dropped. He clutched onto Evie’s shirt and yanked her toward him. “I hope little sis does show up. She has something that belongs to me.”

  Cyrus appeared over Lucius’s shoulder, and Evie’s eyes lit up. For a second, she’d forgotten he was the villain responsible for her captivity.

  “Keep your hands off this one.” Cyrus pushed Lucius away from the van’s door and took Evie by the arm. She gazed into his eyes, silently begging him to stop—to let her go and act like he loved her.

  “Come on,” he said, tugging on her arm.

  Evie looked at Hetal, who was cowered in the farthest corner of the van, then back into Cyrus’s deceivingly gentle eyes. “Fitz, please, help us.”

  “His name is Cyrus,” Lucius said in a growl. “Or Dr. Mayhem if you prefer.”

  That man’s cruel voice rattled Evie’s nerves but she didn’t waver. Her affectionate stare on Cyrus didn’t break, and the temporary backbone she grew remained firm.

  “You don’t have to do everything your brother tells you. It’s okay to think for yourself, to do what you feel is right.”

  Cyrus glided his thumb along Evie’s cheek. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m going to give you powers, like me, then I’ll let you go. I promise.”

  “What?” Hetal shouted. “You can’t. It could kill her.”

  Evie backed deeper into the van. “It’s not what I want, Fitz. It’s not.”

  Regret crossed Cyrus’s face, right before he pulled Evie from the van. She fought against his crushing grip, swung her bound arms from side to side.

  The dark shadow of a tall tower fell over Evie. She stopped struggling to stare at the building in front of her. “We’re back at the asylum?”

  A scream cut through the icy air. Evie looked over her shoulder as Lucius pulled Hetal from the van.

  “What’s going on here?” Alexie yelled as she stepped from the shadow of the asylum.

  Evie grinned, almost cheered at the sight of Alexie’s ornery face. “Thank God. Zap these two jerkbags and get us out of here.”

  Alexie groaned. She walked around Evie, without a glance, and stood beside Lucius. “I don’t understand why we need Evie. You should let me get rid of her.”

  “Alexie?” Evie all but whimpered. The fire in her veins sputtered out. This couldn’t be happening. She’d taken a van ride from reality and got spit out in a bizarro world where Electric-Luxie, the poster-girl for all things righteous, was a villain.

  “Evie is Cyrus’s new woman,” Lucius said through a smile. “He actually loves this one, instead of lusting after her like he did with you.”

  “Clearly,” Alexie said, somehow cramming a boat-load of sarcasm into her one word. “You’re supposed to abduct and torment the people you love. I forgot.”

  Alexie finally looked Evie in the eyes, but only for a second. “Have they treated you half-decent at least?”

  “Traitor.” Evie kicked Alexie in the shin, then resumed her wild struggle against Cyrus’s tight clutch. “I knew there was no such thing as a hero.”

  Lucius chuckled. His laughter stung Evie’s ears and she stopped struggling. He enjoyed her misery too much. She’d blot the sun from the sky if it would end that man’s pleasure.

  “One day, you’ll understand,” Alexie said, softly, staring at the dead grass beneath her boots.

  “You all say that,” Evie shouted with spite. “Because none of you have a single valid reason for anything you do. Then, when something convenient happens, you pretend like you planned it all along. Heroes, villains … you all super-suck.”

  “Yeah. Well, you’re about to join that club,” Cyrus said as he dragged Evie toward the asylum, despite her kicking and screaming.

  A gust of air blew across the rooftop, rocking Shay in place. She peered over the side of Ling Enterprises and a twinge of fear flared within her chest. The icy wind whipped her ponytail against her neck as she strained to see the sidewalk, 113 stories below the roof’s edge she stood upon.

  “I don’t know,” she said, looking at Max. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to get burned.”

  “The fire won’t touch you.” Max offered his hand to Shay. “Trust me?”

  Of course Shay trusted the superhero, but the man behind the suit … that was still up for debate.

  A flurry of tingles erupted in her chest as she moved her hand toward Max. Those tingles spiked the moment she slid her palm into his.

  Max pulled Shay close and their chests collided. Heat ignited from the slight contact, surging throughout her body in such a delightful way. Her breaths went into overtime when Max clutched onto her waist and a smile attacked her lips.

  This wasn’t flirting. Shay definitely was not flirting.

  “Ready?” Max asked.

  Before Shay could answer, Max threw them over the side of the building. A yelp rose in her throat as windows zoomed by, but she managed to hold it there. Frosty air hit her skin like a slap, nipping at her cheeks. She buried her face in Max’s chest and an explosion propelled them upward.

  Wind no longer chilled her skin. Instead, a warmth radiated from all sides. The force of high speeds still tugged her body, but Max’s arms held her snug to his side. She never felt so safe. Her brain knew she soared between skyscrapers, hundreds of feet off the ground, yet her nerves remained completely calm while caught within a superhero’s grip.

  Shay peeked over Max’s shoulder. An orb of crimson fire encased them. The flames didn’t cover Max’s body. They twisted in slow motion around him, cocooning them both in a bubble of fire. It was hypnotic the way
each tiny flame danced, whirled, bled into one another, as though the winds of flying fed them.

  “Don’t touch it,” Max said, his breath rushing over Shay’s neck.

  Her hand jerked back. She hadn’t even realized her fingers reached for the fire until his voice pulled her from the flame’s lure. The weight on her stomach lifted and solid ground rushed in to tap the soles of her boots.

  “Whoa.” She staggered away from Max, patting herself down for a quick stray-flame check.

  “Cooler than flying with Simon?” he asked.

  “Way.”

  The veil of night lifted the longer Shay stared into the darkness around her, and the splash of water filtered into her ears. Once she glimpsed the asylum, it was impossible to miss. The broken glass on the building’s many windows gleamed in the moon’s light.

  “What’s the plan?” she whispered to Max.

  “I thought you had one.”

  “No,” Shay said, louder than she should have.

  “This was your idea.”

  “Ideas are supposed to come with plans?”

  Max snickered. “Come on.” He hunched low and crept through the tall grass. “We’ll wing it.”

  Shay clearly wasn’t as smart as the tabloids claimed. A smart person would’ve run, hid, and waited for help, but she followed Max right toward the enemy’s lair.

  The girl Lucius dragged through the asylum pounded her fists against his chest, dug in her heels as they walked, but it did nothing to slow him. He pulled Hetal down crooked stairs, through dark hallways, and into the musty basement with ease.

  “You were my role model.” Hetal looked around Lucius, at Alexie straggling far behind in the dark corridor. “I even have a What Would Electric-Luxie Do bumper sticker on my car. I’m scraping that sucker off, because I no longer care what you would do.”

  Hinges squealed as Lucius opened the thick steel door to their secret lab. He shoved Hetal inside. She tried to run back out the door but he kept pushing her farther into the room.

  Once Hetal spotted the nebula burst machine, she froze in place. The machine’s golden panels, coiled transistors, and ionized plated arms stopped her from spouting out her constitutional rights so she could gawk.