by Jamie Zakian
“What am I doing here?” she asked, running her fingers along the machine’s curved side.
Lucius nodded at Alexie, giving her the go-ahead to deploy her good cop routine. He knew it wouldn’t work, but Alexie had to fail to learn.
Alexie clasped her hands behind her back, beneath her sparkly cape, and offered Hetal a soft smile. “We need your—”
“Not you,” Hetal sneered. “You’re a betrayer, a snake in the grass. I’d rather receive demands from someone less evil.”
Lucius watched as Alexie’s confident stare gave way to defeat. He didn’t enjoy shattering her beliefs, but she needed to see the truth—that nothing significant could come from being polite and proper.
He walked toward Hetal and the girl shrank down.
“You tell me why you’re here,” he said, gesturing at the machine.
Hetal crept past his outstretched arm. She studied the control panel beside the machine, inspecting every wire that ran from the oversized chamber.
“The construction is magnificent.” Hetal had that look in her eyes, the same look of wonder Cyrus got every time he stared at the machine. “This equipment has everything needed to radiate a person to their core, just like the blast that hit Max in space. Except, it’s missing its most vital component.”
Hetal turned her back to the machine, crossed her arms, and lifted her chin. “I won’t help you.”
“I don’t need your help.” Lucius curled his fingers into fists, straining to contain his anger. “But you will help me.”
“Or what?” Hetal’s eyes grew wide the moment the words slipped past her lips, and she slapped her palm over her mouth.
Lucius lifted his cell phone for Hetal to see. A series of pictures flashed on its screen. Hetal’s mother tending to a garden. Hetal’s little sister waiting for the school bus. He’d taken these pictures from afar, and he had no intention of harming these people. The girl who shivered in front of him didn’t know that.
“They can have very unfortunate accidents.”
Tears welled in Hetal’s eyes. “Is this what you do now, Electric-Luxie? Kill innocent people to get what you want?”
Alexie lowered her gaze to the steel-grated floor. “There’s no such thing as innocent.”
“I can’t believe this.”
Lucius grabbed Hetal by the shirt, pulling her face right in front of his. “If this machine doesn’t have a constant power source, your friend Evie will emerge a mutated fluke. That, you can believe.”
Shay crouched under a broken window. The asylum’s frigid wall shocked her bare arm as she pressed against it, sending flakes of stone to the ground.
Max peeked inside the asylum then dropped back down beside Shay. “Do you remember the layout? How to get to the cells?”
“Maybe.”
Max stared at Shay with disapproval as he rose to his feet.
“I’m sure it’ll come to me,” she said in a hushed shout.
“Great.” Max climbed inside the window, then reached his hand out to help Shay.
She slapped his hand away and jumped up onto the sill. She didn’t need help climbing into a first-story window. She needed Max to use his superhero magic to locate her sister in a giant, ghostly asylum.
In near silence, Shay swung her legs inside the window and hopped to the cracked floor. Max dipped his head to the only doorway in the small room they’d snuck into, motioning for Shay to lead the way. She didn’t have any powers, had never actually fist-fought anybody before. It wasn’t even her who had run through the halls of this decrepit asylum. That had been Jenna. Despite all that, she crept across the room.
Shay pulled the sonic blaster from her leg holster with barely a sound. She held the weapon to her chest as she neared the doorway. After a deep breath and a quick mental lecture to be brave, she peeked into the hallway.
It was empty. Well, except for the thick layer of dust that covered every splintered surface, the abandoned stretchers pushed against the cracked walls, and the chill of wickedness in the air, the hallway was empty.
Left, a soft voice rang out. Shay turned toward Max, pulling him close. “Did you hear that?”
Max shook his head, and Shay walked into the hallway.
“Left it is,” she mumbled to herself, heading down the left corridor. Broken tile crunched under her light steps. She was sure the sound blared throughout the building, but the baddies didn’t swoop in to beat her down so she continued walking toward the end of the dark hall.
“Familiar?” Max whispered.
Right, said the soft voice, clearer, squeakier, in a very Jenna-ish tone.
“Sort of,” Shay said to Max, as she followed the directions Jenna gave her from within her mind. “This way.”
A distant crash vibrated the floor and Shay stopped short. Her finger twitched, sliding to the trigger of her sonic blaster.
Second door on the right.
“Come on,” Shay whispered to Max, opening the only steel door in the creepy hallway.
Cyrus walked into the holding room. His legs fought each step. He hated the sight of Evie locked in a filthy cell, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her trapped in this dark room alone. If only she’d listen to reason. The world was about to change, become more dangerous … unpredictable. Those without powers could never survive the frenzy, not once every idiot in the city started tossing fireballs or punching down skyscrapers. He couldn’t let Evie die under a pile of rubble the way her parents had at his brother’s hand.
The thought doubled his pace into the dimly lit room of barred cells and narrow solitary chambers. Whatever it took to get her in that machine, he’d do it. He wouldn’t use his powers, but he’d shove her inside the nebula burst generator and lock its door to keep her safe.
“Cyrus,” Evie called out, her shaky arm reaching through the bars.
Without thinking, Cyrus rushed to Evie.
“Are you hurt?”
He held her hand to his chest, looking at the welts on her wrist left by handcuffs.
“Yeah I’m hurt. You put me in a cell.”
“It’s for your own good.”
Evie pulled her hand from Cyrus’s grasp and held onto the iron bar in front of her. “I don’t get how taking me from my room in the middle of the night and dumping me in this rat hole is for my own good.”
“Lucius will transform every person who carries a mutative strand in their DNA, whether I help him or not. Once the city is packed with fools wielding powers, regular people won’t be safe. I’m making sure you’re not one of those regular people anymore.”
The anger melted from Evie’s face every time her gaze flashed to Cyrus. “And I have this mutative strand?”
“Yes. I ran the test twice, you’re SP positive.”
“SP?” Evie asked.
“Superpowers—it’s what I’m going with until I think up something witty.”
Evie didn’t crack a smile, didn’t say a word or even move a muscle. Although only seconds had passed, it seemed like an eternity before she looked at him.
“You know,” she said, leaning against the bars. “I’ve always dreamt of having superpowers.”
Cyrus waited for the inevitable but. It never came. Instead, Evie reached through the bars and glided her hands up his chest.
“I’ll do it,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “I want to do it.”
“Seriously?”
Evie nodded, lightly, keeping her gaze locked on Cyrus’s face. “Read my mind.”
“No. I won’t use my powers on you, ever.”
Evie’s grin drew Cyrus closer. His forehead pressed against cool metal as he held her through the bars that separated them.
“I love you, Cyrus.”
She rose to her toes and kissed him. The moment her lips touched his own, he jolted back. He knew Evie’s kiss. It was soft and feathery as it floated in to caress his mouth. The slobbery mess that sloshed along his face was nothing like
Evie’s kiss.
“Mimic.” Cyrus wrapped his fingers around Mimic’s neck, and yanked her forward against the bars. “Where’s Evie?”
“What’s wrong, sweetie, don’t wanna play with me? I’m pretty enough, just your type.”
Cyrus squeezed Mimic’s throat. His mind saw Evie even though he knew it was Mimic’s windpipe he crushed. The visual shook his fingers, yet he squeezed the neck in his grasp and lifted Mimic’s feet off the ground.
“Where … is … Evie?”
Mimic clawed at Cyrus’s hand, gasping, and he loosened his clutch. She fell to her knees, cradling her new set of puffy finger marks.
“Solitary,” Mimic said between pants and hacks.
Cyrus nearly choked on his rage as he stomped across the room. He should’ve broken the fluke’s neck, done the world a favor.
“Hey,” Mimic yelled. She pushed the barred door open and walked from the cell. “Evie will never love you, never understand. You don’t need her. I can be her for you, but better.”
The already boiling rage that scorched Cyrus’s mind twisted into a seething fury. Red. All he could see was red, and the long metal surgical table in front of him.
Cyrus grabbed onto the table’s jagged edge, ripping its bolted legs from the ground. Before the snap of metal could bounce off the walls, he hurled the rusty slab at Mimic.
Mimic ducked as the table soared overhead. Her entire body shook when the table crashed against the stone wall, quaking as it banged to the floor.
“Don’t ever compare yourself to Evie again.” Cyrus stood over Mimic, who cowered in the filth. “You could never be her. Change your form.”
The air shimmered around Mimic, gave off a heat that reeked of burnt electrical wires. Evie’s body blurred, shrinking down to one of a little girl. Mimic rose off the floor, a small child who barely stood waist-high to Cyrus. Her now innocent eyes gazed up at him, and she folded her tiny arms across her small chest.
“Sorry,” she said in a meek, squeaky voice as she hurried from the room.
Cyrus stared at the façade of a child. Her bright red dress gleamed in the gray hallway, and her two long braids tapped her back as she skipped along on little legs.
The idea of Mimic parading around as a child sickened him. He’d just reached the end of his limit with that monster. When this human race makeover thing was complete, he’d be sure to rectify his brother’s mistake of a creation.
Shay inched down fractured metal steps. They creaked beneath her feet, thundering up the narrow stairwell as she crept down it. At least, in her mind they did. These stupid stairs were loud. This narrow stairwell, with its giant crack running all the way down the mold-splattered wall, ruined her love of stairwells, which only added fuel to her already enraged flame.
Once she stepped on the bottom landing, and her feet returned to un-squeaky ground, her entire body unwound. She reached for the door, desperate to flee this dark cramped space, and Max grabbed onto her arm.
“I hear a child,” he whispered.
“That’s—”
A little girl’s giggle echoed from behind the door in front of Shay, followed by the clickety-clack of skipping shoes. The tap of hard soles grew louder, and Shay leaned away from the door. Another giggle rang out from what could’ve been right beside her. Then, a song. It was a happy tune from Shay’s childhood, sung by a ghost girl’s mousy voice in a rundown asylum of decay.
Shay had become paralyzed with fear, even after the eerie voice drifted away. “Really creepy,” she said in a hush.
“Should we …” Max rocked in place as he stared at the door. “Rescue her?”
“I don’t think that was a regular child.”
Max nodded, relief washing over him. “Shapeshifter?”
“Or a poltergeist, but probably the shifter.”
Max grabbed the door’s knob and glanced at Shay. “Which way do we go?”
“Right … right?”
“You’re asking me?”
“No.” Shay turned her back to Max, shielding her face. “Right?” she said beneath her breath.
Yes. Right. Can’t you do anything on your own?
Shay grumbled at Jenna’s snippy tone, which echoed in her head. She turned back toward Max, nodding. “Yep. Go right.”
The suspicion in Max’s gaze grew deeper, and Shay shrank down.
“What?” she asked, as softly as one could bark a question.
“What’s up with you?”
Shay crossed her arms, and the sonic blaster in her hand banged against her hip. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing. I’m not the one talking to myself. Maybe we should go. This was a bad idea.”
“Evie.”
“I know it’s hard, but we’ll get—”
“No.” Shay waved her hand, which cut off Max’s clueless train of thought. “Someone just said her name.”
They both pressed an ear against the door, staring at each other while listening to the muffled peeps on the other side.
Evie flinched as the hood was yanked off her head. Her eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the onset of light, but she glimpsed a blurry figure standing in the narrow doorway in front of her. She scurried backward. Her handcuffs slammed against the wall, the metal gouging straight to her bone. She held in her cry, denying whoever came to torture her their satisfaction.
“Evie!”
Cyrus rushed to Evie’s side and she almost dove into his arms, but it wasn’t the same man she’d come to care for. That man didn’t wear shiny plastic armor. The person whose hands held her at night weren’t covered by thick leather gloves. This was some other man staring at her. A supervillain, Dr. Mayhem, and he gazed at her with the tender stare of a man she trusted.
“I’m sorry,” Cyrus said, unlocking Evie’s cuffs. “I didn’t know that bitch was gonna do this to you.”
As soon as Evie’s hand slid free from the shackles, she slapped Cyrus across the cheek. “How dare you play the worried boyfriend card? Look at this.”
She shoved her bloody wrist in his face, resisting the urge to wring his neck. “Look at what you did to me. And I’m so thirsty, and dirty.”
Cyrus reached for Evie and she leaned away from him, wedging herself into a corner. “Don’t touch me.”
“Can you walk?”
Evie just stared at Cyrus. Any answer she gave would be the wrong one. It always was with the good-looking, evil types.
Cyrus stood up in the skinny room and backed away from the open door. “Come on.”
“You’re letting me go?” Evie jumped to her feet and hurried out the tiny concrete cell.
“Yes, after you get in the machine.”
“No.” Evie pounded her fists against Cyrus’s chest, hurting her hands more than his solid chest plate.
“Dammit, Evie.” Cyrus grabbed Evie’s arms, holding them down at her sides. “I just said a bunch of romantic shit to you. Except it wasn’t really you, it was that stupid shapeshifter.”
“I don’t care.” Evie’s body shook but she held her chin high. “I don’t care what your twisted excuses are, how much you think you love me. You have no idea what true love is. I would never force someone I loved to change who they are.”
“I’m not changing you. I’m saving you.”
Cyrus tossed Evie over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes. She kicked, punched, screamed, but he didn’t slow his steps from the room.
Evie’s screams pierced Shay’s ears, sending a shockwave of panic throughout her body. She yanked the stairwell door open, nearly clobbering Max with its edge, and ran into the hallway. She didn’t know, didn’t care what was on the other side of the door. Evie cried for help and neither her mind, body, nor her soul could ignore it.
In a skid of dust, Shay stopped short in the tight hallway. She stared down the dark passage at Cyrus, who had her sister slung over his shoulder. His lips lifted into a grin and she raised her sonic blaster.
Evie stopped punching Cyrus and peeked over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of Shay.
“Put my sister down,” Shay said though clenched teeth.
Max stepped beside Shay. He lifted his hand and a ball of flames ignited in his palm. “It’s over, Cyrus. Simon and Alexie will be here any minute. If you let Evie go now, you’ll have time to slither away.”
Cyrus chuckled. He pointed at Max. “Go to sleep.”
A yawn burst from Max’s mouth. He staggered to the side, then fell over like a freshly chopped tree. His limp body crashed against the stairwell door, knocking it open. He thumped to the ground inside the stairwell and the door banged to a close, shutting away his sleeping body.
Terror struck Shay, wrapping around her to block off the flow of air. The sonic gun shook in her hand, growing heavier by the second. She glanced at the closed door, and the superhero she knew slept right on the other side of it, then at her sister still dangling over the villain’s shoulder.
“Come here, Shay.”
Cyrus’s smooth voice flowed down the hall, but thanks to Hetal’s device in Shay’s pocket, did nothing to compel her.
Shay stood up straight. “No.”
A grin swept her lips as shock filled Cyrus’s gaze. This was her chance. The man’s defenses were down, doubt swarmed his expression. A very convincing bluff could end this confrontation, without her gruesome death.
Shay held onto the butt of her gun with both hands and took aim. “This gun has a very precise laser, and I’m a great shot. You don’t need both of your eyes, do you?”
Cyrus lowered Evie from his shoulder. He set her feet down on the floor and held her in front of him by the back of her neck.
“Is this what you want?” he asked, peeking out from behind Evie. “Come and get her.”
“Don’t,” Evie yelled. “Just go, run.”
The bottom of Shay’s stomach dropped. She couldn’t go anywhere. The fear within her sister’s gaze wouldn’t let her move.