by Gwenda Bond
A blaring honk sounded. Then another: Honk! Honk!
I spotted Taxi Jack at the curb, and then he escalated the honking, leaning on the horn so it became a constant blare.
“Catch you next time, Todd,” I said, and he shot me a confused look. I hesitated, and then turned to the girl. “What’s your name? I know you’re not Reya.” I watched to see how it landed.
“No, I’m Sunny,” she said, confused.
Todd had paused, taken aback. “You don’t know us. Not any of us,” he said.
Then he took the girl’s—Sunny’s—hand and darted away, across the plaza. They disappeared into the sidewalk traffic. Apparently they’d given up on luring me along for now.
I had all their first names except the winged guy’s. Wherever they were headed, they’d report we had found out information about the group.
Tell away. Maybe Donovan will escalate into doing something really stupid.
Jack eased off the horn, and I aimed a subtle—I hoped, in case any of the other silvery teens were hidden nearby—thumbs-up toward the front doors of the Daily Planet Building.
Mission accomplished, I booked it and climbed into the backseat of the taxi.
“New boyfriend?” Taxi Jack asked, and I could tell he was concerned. As always, his worrying about me was sweet.
“New story,” I said. “Getting my edge back. Home, please? As fast as you can get me there?”
“No problem.” Taxi Jack levered the car into drive and turned his head to find a break in the steady flow of cars.
I pulled out my phone and sent a group text to Maddy, James, and Devin: Wait for me before you try to track them down. Got it? We’ll do it tomorrow. Together.
Devin sent back: It’ll take a while for me to get the data anyway.
I nodded and tapped out another message: The masked girl is named Sunny. Maybe try to see if the name turns up a hit? Maddy has two more.
My phone dinged with a solo message from Maddy that said: Good luck with whatever had you looking so worried. Here if you need to talk.
Having friends was weird… but in a good way.
Taxi Jack broke into my train of thought. “I’m just glad to hear you’re not dating that guy.”
“Please,” I said. “Like I’d ever.”
No, the only person I wanted to date was in potentially grave danger, depending on his reasons for extreme secrecy. And I was the only person who could warn him.
I hesitated, then sent another message. Even though for all I knew TheInventor could see it, since he’d designed this chat app, along with our computer chat software, and Strange Skies.
SkepticGirl1: I need to talk to you in the game. On my way home now. It’s important.
CHAPTER 8
As I stepped out of the taxi onto the sidewalk in front of my house, my phone buzzed. I figured it was a message from SmallvilleGuy, but then it rang.
I didn’t recognize the number. I clicked to answer, a thousand possibilities of who it might be racing through my mind—some DoD official, TheInventor, Dabney Donovan, or one of the Typhon crew. “Hello?”
“Is this Miss Lane?”
I recognized the voice as the no-nonsense woman from the prison. Was she calling to tell me Boss Moxie had turned me down? It hadn’t sounded like anyone would bother.
“Speaking.” Instead of going inside, I stepped to the edge of the sidewalk in front of our brownstone. “Do you need more information or something?”
“No,” she said. “Moxie Mannheim approved your addition to the visitor log and requests you come on Saturday at eleven a.m. You’ll need to bring a photo ID and an adult companion.”
I took that in. He’d said yes. But… “An adult companion?”
“You’re under eighteen, so you must be accompanied by someone who isn’t a minor. They will also need photo ID. Thank you.”
And click.
The woman never wasted time, that much was certain.
So Boss Moxie would see me, and apparently really wanted to, judging by how quickly that call back had come. But… an adult. I couldn’t take Mom and I definitely couldn’t take Dad. Obviously.
It would have to be Perry.
I could tell him it was as a potential source on running down the weird sightings. He wouldn’t be happy we hadn’t tracked down the silver kids yet, even if the attention on them had quieted. That was temporary. I could feel it.
But I’d deal with convincing him later. For now, I had more pressing business to conduct.
I stashed my phone, hurried over to the front door, and let myself inside. My plan was to sneak upstairs and get my holoset on before anyone even realized I was home.
“Lois? That you? Dinner’s ready,” Dad said. He appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.
So much for my plan.
He was in running clothes, and Mom leaned over beside him. “I didn’t know if you’d be home or not,” she said.
I was about to make my excuses and say I wasn’t hungry. But as I moved forward I spotted Lucy, already at the table. “It’s a good thing you are, because Dad’s about to abandon us again. Who knows when you’ll see him next,” Lucy said.
I frowned, and so did Dad. Mom said to me, “Dad has to travel for work again this week.”
I sensed where this was heading. I pulled out a chair and sat across from Lucy. Dad joined us, with Mom sitting down last.
“Where are you off to?” I asked, as casually as possible. Which wasn’t very.
“Kansas first,” he said. “Then maybe Pennsylvania. Just depends.”
“For?” I asked.
Mom passed the salad to Lucy, who took an entire three leaves as usual.
“Classified,” Dad said. “But here’s crossing fingers I’ll be back by early next week.”
“Yeah,” I said, accepting the bowl from Lucy. But there was no way I could eat. Not right now. So I passed it on to Dad.
“I came home from the office early because my stomach’s upset,” I said.
Lucy goggled at me. “You’re not hungry? I didn’t think that was possible.”
“You think you’ve got a bug?” Dad asked. His eyes crinkled at the edges with concern. “Even a cast-iron stomach like yours can’t fight them off forever.”
“Maybe. Also, thanks for the compliment.” I got up. “That’s what they call me—old cast-iron stomach. Do you mind if I go lie down? I’ll try to eat something later.”
Mom and Dad both nodded. “Take it easy, sweetheart,” Mom said, concerned.
I wasn’t faking feeling weak. I was facing absolute disaster. That would make anyone feel a little queasy.
But I had an idea how to prevent it.
The thought of running my plan past SmallvilleGuy made me feel even queasier. I should tell him how I found out about the list. He’d want to know.
That might distract from the more obvious problem though, which was the fact the list existed at all.
I trudged upstairs to my room and prayed he’d be waiting in the game.
I sank down on the bed, put on my holoset, closed my eyes, and then opened them as I pressed the button to power it up.
In front of me was a twilit night, stars glowing a million different colors. It wasn’t usually late in the game’s universe at this time of day, so I worried I’d hit the wrong coordinates. But then SmallvilleGuy stepped into view, a shadow clarifying into a familiar form.
“Thank god,” I said.
He rushed forward. “Lois, what’s wrong?”
I let myself exhale with relief. The worst hadn’t happened yet. We could still get out of this.
“It’s my dad,” I said. “That task force we think he’s on? Well, I think they’re sending him and who knows who else to look for the flying man or people who know about him again. There’s, ah, a list from Strange Sk
ies, handles and cities. You’re first on it. I’m last.”
He stiffened. “How do you know?”
Thinking of what Dad had said, I crossed my fingers behind my back. I hated not telling him everything, but it still felt necessary. I needed to figure out how to control my own damage. I’d imply finding out about it a different way than I had…
“Dad is headed to Kansas again. To Smallville.”
He dragged a hand through his hair and began to pace, clearly as panicked as I’d felt when I saw that list. He obviously couldn’t remain still either. In his case, it was like he had to keep moving or all the excess energy would explode out of him. I could relate.
“I have an idea how we can head off the worst. He doesn’t know where in Smallville. You’re careful about your IP address?” I asked.
He’d told me as much when he gave me the secure (supposedly) chat software from TheInventor for our computers. “Yes,” he said. “TheInventor showed me how to spoof it. Everything that goes through my phone or computer just traces back to the school.”
I took a second to marvel at how smart he was. How careful. And you’ve jeopardized that.
“Good, that’s good,” I said. “Then maybe my idea will work. Talk to your parents, explain as much as you can. I know you need to keep your identity secret—for whatever reason—at least from my dad and his task force. Tell them to move up your trip to Metropolis. Leave tomorrow.”
“I don’t know if they’ll go for it…” he said, but he didn’t outright reject the idea. He stopped pacing and looked at me.
“If you know anything about the flying man, you can’t risk being there,” I said. “Not with my dad poking around.”
He just stood there, visibly thinking it over. I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
The multi-colored stars above us twinkled like eerie fairy lights.
“I’ll talk to my parents,” he said finally. And then he moved closer, taking my hands in his. “On the plus side, if I can convince them… I’ll be happy not to have to wait a second longer than I have to in order to see you. For real.”
My cheeks went up in flame. “Um, ditto,” I managed. I felt even worse for concealing my part in creating this situation.
“I should tell TheInventor too,” he said.
“No.” I shook my head. “He wasn’t on the list.”
“But it was all Strange Skies people?” he asked.
I had to nod.
“I’ll tell him. He’ll want to know,” SmallvilleGuy said.
I didn’t try to convince him not to. It might be for the best. My bugging TheInventor had obviously ticked him off; he needed to keep trusting SmallvilleGuy.
Assuming he ever had.
“Okay,” I said.
“I’d better go—big conversations to have.” He reached up and touched my cheek. I leaned into it, the touch of his hand steadying. “I’ll report back.”
As always, he waited for me to leave the game first. I reached up and pressed off my holoset, removed it from my ear. My phone was buzzing over on my desk, and I got up slowly, shaking off the lagging otherworldly feeling that the holoset always left behind.
It was a group message from Devin: I have an area where the phone stopped transmitting. Google maps doesn’t look promising tho.
I responded: It’s a place to start looking tomorrow.
With nothing else productive to do, I spent some time searching the names “Reya” and “Sunny” and “Todd” combined with “Metropolis,” but only turned up random hits about other people.
Finally, I lay down and, as occasionally happened, my body realized it was actually exhausted. And so I fell asleep, still waiting to hear how SmallvilleGuy’s talk with his parents had gone.
CHAPTER 9
I checked my phone as soon as I woke up. There was a message in the chat app.
SmallvilleGuy: They’re thinking it over. Will report back when there’s a verdict.
SmallvilleGuy: Take care today. <3
His little old-school heart made my real heart seem to do a backflip in my chest, as always. But I was certain I would spend the day worrying that his parents would ultimately decide to say no.
*
When I arrived at school, I knew I was running late to our meet-up. But I had to crack a smile at the sight of Maddy, James, and Devin actively waiting for me in front of my locker. They were chatting among themselves, shutting out the hallway hordes.
We’d agreed via text on a quick huddle at my locker before first period. I’d been running too late for a library meeting and, alas, I’d been informed that Dough-Re-Me was too pricey to hit daily. Not that I wouldn’t have been too late for that too.
They were so deep in conversation, I managed to sneak up without any of them noticing.
“Boo!” I inserted myself between James and Devin.
“Finally,” James said, pretending like I hadn’t startled him. I’d seen that little jump he made.
“Nice entrance,” Devin added. He must have caught James’s jump too. “Everything okay?”
“Ask again later. The verdict should be in soon.” I met Maddy’s eyes. Her T-shirt today was for Great Wall of Denial. “I’d tell you, but it’s complicated. Don’t worry.”
She gave me a small nod. “You have any news?”
The hall was crowded, so I leaned in to officially join the confab. The four of us put our heads together.
“Well, I guess it’s news that I’ll be going to see Boss Moxie this weekend,” I said.
That got a reaction. All three of their heads reared back, jaws falling open.
I smiled. “Never doubt me.”
Although I still think it came too easy.
The first bell rang, which meant we had five minutes to wrap this up before the second one signaled the start of first period.
“Other than my bombshell, where are we? Did you turn up any info from the names?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Devin said. “Which means—”
“The parents likely didn’t report them missing.” Unbearably sad to contemplate. And these poor kids whose families had either driven them away or left them to the world’s whims were mixed up with one of Donovan’s schemes.
Devin nodded. “I do have something else from the phone though.” He pulled up a map app and showed us the street and block where he’d lost the phone’s signal—never for it to return.
“It’s not far from here,” I said. “I think it’s around where Todd, the speedy guy, smashed into me the first time.”
“Should we give them nicknames?” Maddy asked. “‘Speedy guy’ isn’t very catchy. And neither is Todd. ‘Smash’ has potential.”
“No. We are not giving them nicknames. They are not pets.” I leaned back against my locker. The hallway traffic was clearing out. “Mad, you told them about the drawing?”
“She did,” James answered for her. “The woman sounds like someone who’d be at a fundraiser for Dad.”
I stood up straight. “Wait a second. Are you saying you know her?”
“Sorry, no,” he said. “‘Sounds like,’ generically.”
Devin motioned for us to huddle back in, swiping across his phone screen. “The thing I find interesting is I checked this against our sightings—which, remember, were spread out around the city. Look at this.”
“You’re going to have to interpret it,” I said. “I don’t speak fluent mapese.”
“Because that’s not a language,” Devin said. “You should know how to read a map.”
“I know how to read a map. Just not how to read this fancy one you’ve made.”
James started to laugh at our bickering, until I shot him a scowl. “You can’t read it either and you know it,” I said.
James shrugged to concede the point. Ha!
“Try this,” D
evin said, swiping a couple more times and brandishing the phone at us.
“Oh, well, why didn’t you do that to begin with?” I asked innocently.
The sightings popped now, bright red dots flung across Metropolis. There wasn’t any pattern to them. Until you looked at the spot where Devin had placed a block-long X.
“They’re pretty equally spread out around that point, aren’t they?” Maddy asked.
“Yeah, they are,” I said. “In fact, I bet the only sightings within the zone around the X are ours.”
Devin said, “See, you can read a map.” I fake-scowled at him.
“What are we talking about?” a loathsomely familiar voice asked. “It’s almost time for class.”
Principal Butler had chosen that moment to interrupt. Unfortunately, none of us had been paying enough attention to our surroundings to notice his approach.
“Mapping applications,” I said brightly.
“Mapping applications,” he said. His eyes narrowed in an expression that said he didn’t believe me.
“Show him,” I told Devin.
Devin sighed and held up his phone.
“That does seem to be a map,” Principal Butler said. “What’s it of?”
The four of us exchanged looks.
“Metropolis,” Devin said at last.
“You guys can stop treating me like your enemy,” Principal Butler said, straightening his tie. It was blue and shone with expense. “I did help you out with James’s dad. And I told the security guards to watch out for unfamiliar people on campus the other day. I was just curious what you’re working on now.”
I held in a snort. Barely. We’d called in Principal Butler’s help that time only out of desperation. Sure, he’d let me out of our otherwise-mandatory weekly meetings as a result, but I feared he… missed me. Or at least missed the excitement of being part of a big story.
I could relate, but he was still the worst.
“Oh no,” I said, as if I was horrified. “We think of you as a friend. Because of just that.”
The bell rang, cutting off whatever response he was about to make. His mouth hung open.
“We’d better get to class,” I said, and patted his shoulder. “Tell Ronda hi.”