Ex-Cape | Book 2 | Ex-Cape From A Small Town

by Wentzel, Daniel

  With that, the girl stepped away from the podium and waved to the crowd. Molly raised her eyebrows, impressed. Beth had used a lot of words which didn’t sound like they came from the heart. While her appearance itself had been a coup for the candidate, she hadn’t provided any usable sound bites. Moreover, and tellingly, she had never actually told anyone to vote for Nelson.

  It hadn’t been lost on the candidate. Molly was sure she caught a flicker of annoyance behind a politician’s poker face. He didn’t let it phase him in the slightest, however. He quickly readjusted the microphone as he reached out with the other hand to pat Damselfly on the back like a teacher with his favorite pupil.

  “Thank you, Damselfly.” He turned to address the crowd with a broad smile. “I don’t know if you can understand how important it is for a politician to make sure he stays in touch with allies from outside of Washington until you start running for office. I’m fortunate to be working with a young woman who lets her actions speak for her.”

  It was a subtle reminder that Damselfly wasn’t a professional speaker and people should cut her some slack for her failings in that area. It was also not in the least derogatory. Matthew Nelson was good at this.

  “Now we’ve got a lot to talk about today, so I only have one more thing to say on the subject of our country’s superheroes. Six years ago this country passed into law a bill which gave federal money to extraordinary people so they would hide their light under a bushel basket. We agreed to give blanket immunity from millions of dollars of civil liability – which, by the way you have been paying for if you’ve tried to buy insurance for your home or business – and in return, we’ve gotten nothing. With all due respect to those who worked to pass this bill, I believe this was a mistake. I’ve already told you the first bill I’m putting before Congrress. The second one I propose is going to be to negotiate a better deal for our country.”

  Molly’s heart was lodged in her throat as he completed the thought.

  “I’m going to do everything in my power to repeal the VAA and replace it with a program that will make better use of its participants.”

  ✽✽✽

  Molly’s body told her in no uncertain terms that this was not the kind of news she could handle on an empty stomach. The only thing she’d had that day had been a cup of coffee. Granted it had probably been a four hundred calorie cup, but the sugars had already burned through her system, kicked along by a strong jolt of caffeine. She needed to replace her stores, and, more importantly, to think.

  True to his word, Nelson had switched topics and was now discussing the kind of tax plan he supported. He stridently denied the need to raise taxes and instead insisted the country could cut wasteful spending to balance the budget without affecting important programs people cared about. Molly had heard this same basic plan for the last twenty-some years of her life from both parties and was still waiting to see it come to fruition.

  She left the rally and circled behind the bleachers to the deli on the corner. Inside, she found a delectable odor of beef vegetable soup. Her mouth was already watering, and she knew she wouldn’t walk away from it. Sadly, Matthew Nelson’s face was on the television, and the volume was up.

  She did her best to focus on other matters and ignore the candidate. There were three people in line in front of her, and Molly decided to try and plan her next move.

  She needed to contact Beth. She had the girl’s phone number in her cell, but now would not be the right time. Beth knew Molly lived in Capetown, and if the girl hadn’t been in touch to warn Molly about her coming, the odds were good that she wasn’t free to communicate.

  It was probably a good idea to contact some of the other capes as well. If they didn’t know already, they probably should be warned about the dangers this man posed if he became Senator.

  Her cell phone rang as if on cue. She stepped out of line to take the call. She hated to be “that woman.” The caller ID screen listed “Emma Orczy,” but Molly was familiar with the alias, and she wasn’t surprised in the least when a male voice answered her.

  “I figured I’d be preemptive and call you, Ethee. I’m working on it.”

  The Grim Detective had a gravelly voice. He was also the world’s most brilliant criminologist. In a world filled with men and women who could juggle refrigerators and shoot fire from their eyes, Grim had managed to become one of the most successful and respected capes despite having no powers of any kind.

  “Hey, thanks for calling.” Molly kept her voice light. “I stopped off at the deli to get some soup. Did you want me to pick you up some?” Of course she couldn’t bring him any, but it let him know that she was in a public place.

  He chuckled, or as near as he ever came. “That honestly does sound good. I’ll order some for takeout tonight. I’m guessing you know how dirty Nelson is.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  “The bad news is that he’s incredibly good at hiding any illegal activity. I’m not sure there is any good news. I’ve gone through six leads that might have brought him down so far if they would have panned out. Every one of them ended in a dead end.”

  “Are you being literal?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “Dead end means somebody who might have known something was dead under completely unsuspicious circumstances.”

  Molly sighed. She’d expected nothing less.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ready to throw in the towel yet. He’s been scrupulous about not leaving behind any loose ends, but… how do I put this?”

  “But you are who you are.”

  She could hear his smile. “Not to be too immodest.”

  Molly thought for a second about how to phrase her next question. “How’s the kiddo?” she asked, as though referring to someone’s pre-schooler.

  Grim paused for a moment. “I’m guessing you mean Damselfly? As far as I can tell, she’s holding her own. Did you notice the man on Nelson’s security detail? Left hand side of the stage if you’re facing it.”

  Molly frowned in concentration. She closed her eyes trying to picture the scene and to pick up on details the way she’d been trained. On the left hand side the stage was a security guard. He was broad shouldered, long of limb… and had a mustache larger than both his bushy eyebrows put together. Molly groaned in recognition.

  “Hunter Baxter,” Grim confirmed. “I take it you recognize Beth’s brother.”

  “I do now.”

  “He took a leave of absence from the police department to run personal security for the Nelson campaign. I don’t know if he did it to keep an eye on his sister or if he was somehow convinced to do it.”

  Molly winced. She hated both possibilities.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “I’ll keep you posted, but I doubt there’s anything Molly Martin can do for me.”

  It was galling because Grim could be subtle if he wanted to be. In this case, he evidently didn’t. He had never approved of Molly’s decision to join the VAA, and he was convinced that she would eventually return to the costumed crime fighter lifestyle.

  She ignored the barb and replied, “Let me know.”

  “Of course. Keep a weather eye out and let me know if you think I need to come out to Capetown. Oh, and what’s the situation with The Aerialist?”

  “I think that just dropped to the bottom of my priority list.”

  “Be careful. Those are the sorts of things which come back to bite you,” he warned. “Call me if you don’t hear from me in a day or two.”

  The phone disconnected. Molly got back in line and ordered a pint of the soup along with turkey and cheddar on a Kaiser roll.

  She sat down at one of the tables with her plastic spoon. The soup was a step down from Nirvana. The heat from the delectable broth went straight down into her belly. It was easy to ignore anything else, and the sound of Nelson’s speech became so much white noise.

  A half dozen spoonfuls later, another sound caught her attention.

  “Molly?”
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  She looked up at the woman whose voice had quavered so much. She was of a height with Molly, but her hair, that which hadn’t gone grey, was a shade darker. She stared at the younger woman with bright green eyes that were brimming over with tears already streaming down her cheeks and angular jawbone. Molly didn’t have to guess to know the woman was twenty-four years older than she was.

  The one surprise in the woman’s appearance was the huge button which said “Vote Horton for Matt Nelson.” A baseball cap with the same slogan looked very much out of place on her otherwise well-coiffed appearance and flawless makeup.

  As Molly stood up to accept the inevitable embrace, she felt the tears come to her own cheeks. In one moment her world shattered while another part of it became whole once again.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  Chapter Five

  Etherya bit back a curse as the bright light swept down upon her. She was trying hard not to attract attention. She only hoped that the hooligans below paid her no mind.

  “Hey, Ethee.”

  She tried to turn the grimace on her face into a smile. “Hi, Dancer.”

  Moondancer grinned back at her. Ever since Etherya had taken up the cape, Moondancer had been her close friend and mentor. It made it even more awkward that right now, Etherya wanted nothing so much as for her friend to leave.

  Etherya tried not to be jealous of how good her mentor looked. Moondancer had an athletic build with enough of the right curves to make the skintight clothes into a pinup fantasy. Even more than that, Moondancer had a confidence about her Etherya hadn’t mastered.

  It also didn’t help that flight and energy projection powers were just way sexier than insubstantiality. It wasn’t fair, but it was true.

  “I saw you from above and thought I’d check to see if you needed help.”

  “Thanks, no. I got this.” The friendly laugh she tried to inject in the words sounded hollow in her own ears.

  Moondancer cocked a curious eyebrow. Etherya knew she was caught.

  “Ethee, whatcha doing?”

  She swallowed nervously, glancing down at the binoculars around her neck. “Let’s just call it surveillance work.”

  “You’re doing surveillance work?”

  “Yes.”

  Moondancer said nothing, but she took a step forward. “Okay,” she began skeptically, “but you’re doing a really bad job of it. Surveillance work is meant to gather intelligence. I’m not sure what you’re hoping to gain by watching a random group of teens with a keg.”

  “It’s not random.”

  Moondancer showed immediate interest. She crouched down beside Etherya. “Is one of the kids a drug dealer?”

  “No.”

  “Threatening letters or something?”

  Etherya gritted her teeth. “No.”

  “Then what are we doing here?”

  Etherya sighed. There was no way to get around it.

  “I’m making sure my sister doesn’t get drunk and have sex with the guy in the red jacket.”

  Moondancer said nothing for a full minute. Etherya refused to turn her head. She didn’t want to see the mischievous grin spread across her friend’s face. She pretended not to notice that the sound of a clearing throat had a throaty chuckle behind it.

  “Holly?”

  Etherya turned to her friend. In her secret identity, Moondancer was Molly’s chemistry professor. She’d managed to finagle a couple of invitations to the Martin household for dinners.

  “No,” Etherya replied. “Candy.” They had gotten over any jokes about how the Martin sisters were named Molly, Holly, Candy, and Brandy. “Holly’s doing a semester in Honolulu.”

  Moondancer leaned a little closer over the outcropping of the rooftop. When she spotted the bad blonde dye job, she nodded her head. “I see her.”

  “So, thanks and all, but I can handle this.”

  Moondancer nodded but made no move to leave. “Can I ask you a question?” she said after a moment.

  Etherya sighed. “Sure.”

  “Why go about this in costume?”

  “Because Candy would never forgive me if her older sister was spying on her. But if things get too rowdy, I can swoop in as Etherya, give some cock and bull story about evacuating the park, and break up the party.”

  “That’s actually not a horrible plan.”

  “Thank you.”

  After another minute, Etherya turned to her friend. “Am I doing something wrong?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Because when I was in your class, the only time you stood over me was when I was about to pour the acid into the water.”

  Moondancer rolled her eyes. “You’re supposed to pour the acid into the water. You’re not supposed to pour water into the acid. But I get your point.”

  “So why are you still here?”

  “Just not used to siblings, I guess. I was an only child. I’m curious.”

  “About what?”

  “About why it’s okay for her to drink underage, but not okay for her to have sex?”

  Etherya stared out at the raucous party below her. After thinking it through more, she said “Deciding to drink is her choice. I wouldn’t let her get so drunk she could get alcohol poisoning. She’ll drink, she’ll get drunk, Mom will yell at her and she’ll suffer through a miserable hangover to boot.” She gestured at the boy in the red jacket. “But if she gets drunk, having sex might not be her choice, or at least not a choice she would make sober. Candy’s been dating the same guy for the past three years. He just broke up with her because they’ll be going to different colleges. That happened yesterday, and today she told us she’s going out with Captain Kegstand over there. She’s hurt, and she’s angry, and I don’t want to let her make a huge, huge mistake.”

  Moondancer considered that for a moment. “I wish I had had an older sister like you.”

  “Really?”

  The older cape nodded. “Maybe my first time wouldn’t have been in the back of a Chevy Citation.”

  Etherya swatted good-naturedly at her friend. “TMI!”

  Moondancer smiled. “Keep up the hunt, sweetie. I’ll see you down at Squad headquarters on Tuesday.”

  “I thought Grim was teaching us how to defuse a bomb. What will you be doing there?”

  Moondancer grinned. “Honey, you can reach through solid objects. It’ll be ten times easier for you to defuse a bomb than anyone else. I get you for the rest of the day to get you some practice on that jetpack you’ve had your eye on.”

  Etherya smiled. She knew some of the coolest people.

  ✽✽✽

  Candy sobbed in the passenger seat. Molly placed a comforting hand on her sister’s shoulder whenever she could spare a hand from the gearshift. She hated driving stick in emotionally charged situations.

  “Are you gonna tell Mom?”

  Molly glanced at the clock on the radio. At 12:15 AM she wouldn’t have to tell their mother anything. There was no way she’d be asleep yet with two of her daughters AWOL.

  “Odds are good she’ll be waiting for us at the door, squirt.” It was a term of endearment. Candy was almost eight inches taller than Molly. “And right now you smell like Eau de Distillery. I might be able to get her to just let you go straight to bed tonight. Would you rather face her drunk or with a hangover?”

  “Which do you think is better?”

  “Couldn’t say. I didn’t do the underage drinking thing. Mom came with me on my twenty-first to make sure if I got blitzed it would at least be on the good stuff.”

  Candy almost laughed. It was interrupted when she realized they had pulled into the driveway at the Martin home.

  “Ready or not, squirt.” Molly said it solemnly. “Let’s go.”

  She helped Candy maneuver herself out of the car. The girl was unsteady, but she didn’t quite fall over at every other step. Molly reached for her keys when the door opened from inside and their mother let them in without a word.

  Lydia Martin took one look at h
er youngest daughter’s condition. “Go get a glass of water. Take a couple of aspirin before you go to bed. I will deal with you later.”

  “Mom, I…”

  “Water. Aspirin. Bed.” She left no room for argument. “Sleep on your side or on your stomach so you don’t die choking on your own vomit.”

  Candy slunk away up the stairs. She had to crawl to do so, but asked for no pity.

  Molly’s mother turned to her. “Please tell me you didn’t take your sister out and let her get drunk.”

  Molly tried not to bristle. “Of course not, Mom. She called me because she didn’t have a safe way to get home. I went and picked her up.”

  “And where were you this late?”

  “Out with a friend.”

  “Was it this Frank you’ve been seeing?”

  “Mom, you’re upset about Candy. Please don’t take it out on me.”

  “You are never home!”

  Molly refused to match her mother’s level of emotion. She kept her voice neutral. “Which was your choice. I like to stay out late. You told me I had to get home at a decent hour so long as I lived in this house, so I got my own place.”

  “I don’t know how you’re affording that.”

  “Mom, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m living on my own now, and I don’t have to justify everything to you.”

  “You’re not doing anything illegal? Please tell me you’re not…

  “What did I just say?”

  Lydia closed her eyes. It was one of the first times Molly remembered thinking how old her mother looked.

  “I don’t know what I did.” Lydia finally whispered.

  “Mom, you’re upset about Candy. Let me make you some tea.”

  “This isn’t about Candy!” Her mother bit back shouting, but not by much. “You’ve been shutting me out for months now. You stay out until all hours. Sometimes you don’t come home for days. Then you moved out and you never answer your phone. You’ve been scaring me to death, and I want to know what’s going on.”

  Molly could do nothing else. She ignored her mother and walked to the kitchen. Her own heart was breaking, but she’d made her decision almost a year ago, and nothing had changed since then. Telling her mother about her life as Etherya could do nothing but put her family in danger.