Triple Threat (Lois Lane)

by Gwenda Bond

  CHAPTER 6

  I logged on to Strange Skies when I got up the next morning, and skimmed the replies to my thread. They were all links to sketchy reports posted elsewhere online. Nothing firsthand. Based on what was being posted, it seemed that no one had directly experienced the powers the silvery armor gave these guys except for us.

  Then I saw I had a PM. It was a message from our “friend” TheInventor, sent at 11:30 the night before. I hesitated, almost afraid to open it.

  When the government task force had been using Strange Skies to post phony sightings, trying to flush out the real flying man, I had overheard something my dad said that made me believe he had a source at the site itself. And my guess was TheInventor, despite the fact that he’d helped us get rid of the government spies the first time, and despite the fact that SmallvilleGuy trusted him.

  It was a gut feeling. Here was hoping Devin turned up some truth to support it.

  I clicked the link to open the message.

  Thought you might be interested in this, it said, with a link to a post on Loose Lips. I clicked through, unsettled.

  Posted by Maya50 at 4:45pm: I don’t even know what I saw, but I did manage to take a video with my phone. Looks real to me, but I don’t know — I watched this guy running around two little kids in the park. They thought he was a delight. I did not. Too weird.

  The video showed speedy guy running so fast he was a blur, to the sounds of two delighted kids in Centennial Park. It was short, and he took off by the end of it.

  Not earthshattering, the kind of thing I’d seen with my own eyes. Definitely not enough to convince Perry.

  But the most troubling part was the context of the post. TheInventor had sent me to a reply to one of the threads I had posted on Loose Lips—not Strange Skies—which wasn’t comforting in the least. I should never have used such similar wording on both sites. This meant that he’d connected GirlFriday1 to me, and it meant that he was keeping an eye on me, too—at least online. He’d probably figured out that I lived in Metropolis. My posts on Loose Lips hadn’t taken pains to hide that.

  This wasn’t good.

  *

  My commute was on the jumpy side. I kept checking behind me on the subway, looking both ways twice at every cross street. I reasoned that now that I was on high alert, I’d be better prepared if I had to defend myself.

  I just hoped I was right about that.

  But so far, so good. I’d left a little early, so I could stop to pick up a cheap phone I thought might come in handy. Since I lost access to Dad’s cabinet, I’d been studying up on other uses for readily available technology. I’d also taken an interest in the research of people who called themselves “locksport enthusiasts,” detailing how to best various locks and safes for fun; most of them weren’t even criminals, a lot were cops, and they treated it as a game. Then I followed my phone’s directions up the street toward the spot where Maddy suggested we meet.

  Someone had apparently reserved our study room. The nerve. The librarian had texted to let her know just in case we were planning to use it.

  Here was hoping one of my friends had come up with some good information overnight. I hadn’t. The few PMs I’d gotten on Loose Lips had been of the gross or useless variety, people poking fun or looking for dates. No thanks. Except for the one public reply that TheInventor had also seen. I’d just sent him back a short, no-nonsense PM: Thanks.

  Of course, I meant the opposite. I didn’t like it that he’d connected my identity across the two platforms. I didn’t like feeling like my every move was being scrutinized. Like someone might be watching me.

  I especially didn’t like the idea it was Dabney Donovan. Or, for that matter, the mysterious TheInventor. Based on the online chatter, it seemed that armored group had made their presence known for a couple of hours the day before, and not been spotted since. I had a feeling they wouldn’t lie low for long. The police were reportedly continuing to look into the sightings as a public nuisance, but nothing more serious.

  The aroma of sugar and icing when I opened the glass door at Maddy’s designated address was all it took to convince me that Dough-Re-Me Donuts was an excellent substitute for the library. A case filled with colorful and regular glazed donuts dominated the space, and the employees had brightly dyed hair that seemed to match.

  “Over here!” Maddy called out, She, Devin, and James were sitting at one of the small square tables. They had an open box of donuts and a cardboard thermos of coffee with a spare cup beside it.

  “I love you,” I said, reaching out for a red-frosted donut before I even bothered to sit.

  Maddy grabbed my arm to stop me and asked, “Password?”

  “Here?” I said.

  She nodded, while James and Devin grinned, amused. Her T-shirt today sported the fake band name Get InFormation.

  “Fine. Julia Child,” I said.

  “Now you may have a donut,” she said.

  I took one and the empty chair. And yes, I’d been surprised to learn the famous chef who loved French food had been a spy. Lesson: Never underestimate a woman. Or a chef.

  Maddy sat back down and slid over a thick stack of photocopies.

  “The librarian let me make these gratis this morning, to make up for giving up our room,” she said. “No ten cents per page.”

  I leaned over to look at the renderings.

  Dante had captured all four of the skinny silver armor gang remarkably well for never having seen them. The two girls and the two guys should all be recognizable from these sketches—at least, if we could find someone who knew them. The caption Maddy had added read: Do you recognize these faces? And gave our Scoop main phone number with James’s extension.

  “Your boyfriend is so talented,” I said.

  “Yep,” she murmured, and sipped from her coffee cup.

  I narrowed my eyes at her, and she was definitely avoiding meeting mine. I took a bite of my donut and then slid the handouts back.

  “This means we can divide and conquer right after school,” I said.

  James open his mouth and I knew without a doubt he was going to volunteer to be Maddy’s partner. But I wanted to talk to her about whether something was up with her and Dante. So I said, “Maddy and I will take the schools on the west side. You two cover the south, then we’ll reconvene at the office. Okay?”

  James looked disappointed, but he nodded. Maddy, if I wasn’t wrong, seemed downright relieved.

  “Anything useful?” I asked. “In the calls?”

  James reached out for a glazed donut. “There must be something about my voice that encourages people to go on… and on…”

  I said, “It’s those politician genes you’ve got.”

  “Yes, that must be it,” James said. “Or the fact I didn’t hang up on people.”

  I shrugged innocently. “Anything else?”

  Devin put his elbows on the table. “I plotted in coordinates, but they were pretty evenly scattered. I can show you the map at the Scoop later.”

  “I got nothing from my message board posts either,” I said. “But I had a couple more ideas last night after I got home.” I rummaged in my bag and pulled out the small prepaid phone I picked up on my way to school. I held it out to Devin, and he accepted it.

  “You got me a phone?” he said, squinting. “You shouldn’t have?”

  “It’s not for you. Not exactly.” I crossed my fingers he could make my idea work. “Can you figure out a way that, if they show up again, we can plant it on one of them, and we can track them using it? I read an article about GPS signals.”

  He turned the phone over in his hands, and checked something in the sim port. “With a little fiddling around, should be able to,” he said. “I’ll work on it at lunch.”

  “Excellent,” I said.

  Maddy never missed a thing. “You said you had ideas
. Plural. What else?”

  “Oh,” I said.

  I had said I had ideas. Maybe I shouldn’t have. On the other hand…

  “Well, I was just thinking about who might have heard if someone was up to no good… You know, a source who would be really plugged in, one of our last connections to Donovan…” They’d never guess, and I figured they’d be skeptical too. I selected another donut, regular glazed, and considered it before taking a bite.

  “Who?” Maddy’s brow furrowed.

  So did James’s. “My dad won’t know anything about this,” he said.

  “No, not him.” I decided to play it as no big deal. “Boss Moxie.”

  There was absolute silence for a second, and then Devin burst out laughing.

  I gave him the look I reserved for catcallers. My dad jokingly referred to it as my death ray glare.

  “Sorry,” Devin said, but he was still laughing. “You’re serious.”

  “It’s Lois,” James said with a genuinely affectionate smile. “Of course she’s serious. Why and how would he talk to you?” he asked me.

  “You laugh, but I did a little research. It’s a long shot—”

  “I’d think so,” Maddy said, and then she and Devin were both giggling loudly. The people at the nearest table gave us dirty looks.

  “It’s not funny,” I said. “If anyone knows something who isn’t directly involved, there’s a fair bet it’s Moxie. You know he still has spies all over the city. He considers it his.” Though it wasn’t. It was ours. The city belonged to everyone who lived here.

  “So,” James said, and at least he had a straight face, “how are you planning to go about this? Oh, I know—hire a skywriter?”

  “No, I’m going to call Stryker’s Island and ask to be added to his visitor’s list.” I took a satisfying bite of my glazed donut.

  “Oh, that’s all,” James said.

  “No sweat,” Maddy added.

  “Come on, you know you want to mock me some more too,” I said to Devin.

  “I’m sure he’ll be falling all over himself to see you,” Devin said.

  “Very mature. I’m beginning to feel a little ganged up on.” But I couldn’t help smiling. “Look, I know it’s a long shot, but hey, you never make the ones you don’t take.”

  “Truer words,” Maddy said.

  She picked up a donut of her own and we tapped them together in a sugary version of cheers.

  *

  After school, armed with our bags full of flyers, Maddy and I climbed up the steps of the subway stop closest to the first neighborhood we were canvassing, on the edge of Centennial Park. I was attempting to conserve what cash I had left for the inevitable emergency cab rides we’d need.

  I’d chosen this section of the city in part because of the video TheInventor had forwarded. There was a possibility—slim, but it existed—that he was just trying to be helpful.

  “What are we going to tell Perry if he sees these?” Maddy asked as we exited onto the sidewalk. The high wall that fenced in this side of the park was visible up ahead. “Do we mention we ran into the people everyone is reporting seeing?”

  “I don’t think so. We can say we based the sketches on eyewitness accounts and we haven’t confirmed anything yet,” I said. “Until we have.”

  “But… then we’d tell him the truth?” she asked.

  “If we had proof—this is a little more believable, isn’t it? It’s not mind control. It’s not a clone. It’s something he will be able to see. There’s a reason they say seeing is believing.”

  “I think Perry might have to be lifted into the air by the winged guy to believe,” she said.

  “Or pummeled by the strong girl. You may be right.” I had the same worry; Perry was so sensible, so fact-based, and the kind of facts we’d tended to find lately didn’t square with the status quo of reality. I paused to take some flyers out of my bag and Maddy did the same. “First school should be up here on the left.”

  “I brought tape,” Maddy said.

  “Good thinking.” We waited for a walk sign, and I figured it was as good a time as any to bring up the weirdness I’d picked up on around her beau. “So, Dante’s pretty cool to help us out with this.”

  “Yep,” Maddy said.

  Clearly I was going to have to break out the investigative journalism techniques, aka be direct.

  “Are you fighting with him?” I asked. “Are you breaking up? Talk to me. What’s going on? I thought you two had the perfect relationship. He worships you, you really, really like him.”

  There was a lengthy silence in return. An awkwardly lengthy one.

  Oh no. Maybe I’d gotten too cocky. I was still relatively new to this friend business. Had I screwed up even asking? Should I have waited for her to offer up details?

  “Wait,” I stopped walking and turned to her. “Should I not be asking this? I waited until we were alone. I just wanted to know what’s up. Things have seemed… weird. The not knowing if you were going to the dance yet. The different rows at the movie. The general vibe has been weird.” I raked a hand through my hair, then waved my free hand around. “I can’t get your back and tell you he sucks unless I know that’s what I’m supposed to do.”

  Maddy shook her stack of handouts back and forth. “He doesn’t suck. And it’s fine to ask. It’s just… I’m not sure how to answer. I don’t know what to say. That’s why I didn’t bring it up. I’ve never had a, you know, boyfriend before. Maybe it’s normal for feelings to change. After a while. It’s been six months. That’s a long time.”

  That didn’t sound good. “So you feel different now?”

  Maddy looked at me, and now there was relief in her eyes. She kept her voice down, but she started talking. “It’s like… I used to get nervous around him, and then I didn’t, and it was cool. We were just comfortable together. It would have gotten exhausting, right? If I’d always been nervous around him. But now I don’t feel comfortable anymore.” A group of girls approached us as they left the school, and she flashed a flyer at them. “Any of these faces look familiar?”

  They squinted and shook their heads no. “Thanks,” she said, and we moved on up the sidewalk.

  “So you’re not comfortable with him anymore?” I asked, not willing to drop it.

  “No, I am. But then I’m not,” she said. “I’m not explaining this very well. It’s like, when we first got together, there was this sort of invisible wall between us. I always wanted to reach through it, climb over it, get around it.”

  I nodded. I knew that feeling well. “But?”

  “These days it feels like it’s still there and I want it to be. I’m happier that it’s there. He hasn’t changed, but I may have. I used to feel like we knew each other, but now I feel like he doesn’t really know me at all. And maybe I don’t know him either. What do you think?”

  I thought I was utterly useless in this situation. “I’ve gone on like, one date, and my boyfriend lives in a video game. We’re going to meet each other at some point, but…” The details of that could wait. This was about her. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what to tell me either.” She threw her shoulders back. Her eyeliner made little wings at the corners of her eyes, and the right side was smudged. “It’ll work out or it won’t, right? This’ll pass or it won’t. We have a story to get.”

  I considered bringing up James, asking if she still thought about him in a way that might play a role in this new distance between her and Dante. If she wanted him to play one. I’d never mentioned to her that James’s feelings for her had changed. Should I have? But James’s confession was six months ago. I had no idea if he felt the same now. Best to stay out of it.

  So I decided to go with her subject change instead. We had a job to do. “There is news to be gathered,” I agreed. “You’re singing my song.�
��

  We circulated outside the school’s basketball and tennis courts—no luck getting a hit—and posted a few flyers on the walls outside, then headed several blocks south. My feet were screaming by the time we finished with our third school. No one had recognized anyone yet.

  “Maybe we should be showing pictures of Donovan,” I grumbled. I pulled out my phone and checked it. There was one message from SmallvilleGuy that said: Any luck?

  SkepticGirl1: Nada so far. We’re canvassing.

  SmallvilleGuy: I’ll save you the time you’d spend on this part: no posts about any new sightings this afternoon. I’ve been watching Loose Lips.

  I considered what Maddy had said, about the wall between her and Dante. If there was ever one between me and SmallvilleGuy, I’d fly over it. Figuratively speaking.

  SkepticGirl1: You are officially the best.

  SmallvilleGuy: I know.

  I grinned.

  SkepticGirl1: Cocky. Talk to you later.

  SmallvilleGuy: Actually you are officially the best. Can’t wait. Good luck on your search.

  When I stowed my phone again, I glanced over to find Maddy shaking her head. “I wonder if I’ll ever have a smile like the one you’re wearing right now. Your mystery boy must be something. Is your favorite cow doing okay?”

  I knew I should mention that he wasn’t going to stay a mystery, that he was coming here soon enough. But there were two months between now and then, and I didn’t want to rub in how happy I was that we’d defined our relationship as, well, a relationship. Not right after we’d been discussing her issues with Dante.

  Besides, I spotted something up ahead that felt like the equivalent of a lightbulb going off over my head. The sign identified the single-story brick building as the West Side Metropolis Youth Homeless Shelter.

  “Bess is much improved, thank you,” I said and pointed. “Let’s try up here.”

  “You think…” Maddy said.

  “It’s worth going in,” I said. “These are the kind of places that help kids whose parents don’t always report them missing.”

  Just saying the words made me angry and covered in sympathetic chills at the same time. I might not always get along with Dad, but I had zero doubt that he’d try to look out for me until his dying day no matter what I did and no matter how much he disagreed with it. Whether I wanted it or approved of his methods or not.