by Bryan Cohen
Ted's eyes slid up before drifting back down to the speech. "You always told me to think international. Besides, Blake may not be on our side, but connecting with these world leaders is bound to get them on the right team."
Dhiraj picked at his fingernails. "You're right. I know you're right. And I always appreciate it when you listen to me." He looked over at Ted, who remained occupied. Dhiraj reached for a beanbag on the superhero's bookshelf and tossed it toward the bed.
The projectile froze a foot away from hitting Ted in the temple.
"Fine, fine." Ted put the speech back in the folder. "You were about to say, 'but…'"
Dhiraj cleared his throat. "But… does it matter if you do the right thing if the people you love decide to leave you?"
Ted moved his legs over the side of the mattress. "This isn't about the Summit, is it?"
They let the words hang in the air for a few moments until Dhiraj hopped off the desk and began pacing. "I need to get my priorities straight, Ted. I've been working really hard on the FBI stuff, which led to me thinking about politics. It's all amazing and incredible and it's more than I thought I could ever accomplish."
Ted raised his eyebrows. "I detect another 'but.'"
Dhiraj flung up his hands. "You make things a heck of a lot less dramatic when you read the script inside my brain."
"My apologies. Continue."
Dhiraj huffed. "But… I need to resign as your manager and see if Jen will take me back."
Ted's nodded as if he knew what Dhiraj had to say was inevitable. "If that's what you think is best–"
Dhiraj let out a big exhale. "I'm so glad you feel that way. I was nervous that you'd be upset, and that you'd want me to–"
"I wasn't finished."
Dhiraj's chest constricted tighter than before. "All right."
Ted stood up. "I was going to say, if that's what you think is best then I should probably change what you're thinking."
Dhiraj's left eye twitched as he felt the manipulation of his brain. The thoughts he'd just been thinking slipped through his mind like sand through fingers.
He squinted and tried to focus. "What are you do–"
Ted stepped closer. "I'm touched that you want to make things work with Jennifer. Being honest, you two are probably meant for each other. But I need you to be a part of this."
Panic shuddered through Dhiraj as he leapt off the desk. He reached for the doorknob and tried to escape to the hallway. The door was only open for a fraction of a second before it slammed shut.
Dhiraj whipped around to see his best friend close in on him. "You're messing with my mind. Why would you do this?"
Ted smiled. "You know why."
Dhiraj put his hands to the side of his head, as if it might keep out some of Ted's power. He could sense the pain of his breakup evaporating. That's when the puzzle pieces of his doubt all came together.
"You're not Ted."
Dhiraj took hold of the bookcase beside him and pulled it with all his might. The case went diagonal in a hurry, and while Ted suspended it against the laws of gravity, Dhiraj dashed into the hallway. His heart vibrated inside his chest.
He slammed the bathroom door behind him and pulled up Erica's contact on his cell phone. "Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap!"
He typed as quickly as he could and moved his finger toward the Send button, but the phone flew out of his hands before he could mash it. It slammed into the peach tiles inside the shower and shattered beyond repair. Dhiraj looked back at the bathroom door and saw the lock slowly turning.
His hands shook as he leapt up, yanking the shower rod off its hinges. His shoulders burned from the strain. "Time to do something stupid."
Dhiraj gripped the metal rod tightly and propelled it through the second story bathroom window. He ignored the sound of broken glass and ran through the half-shattered opening.
Dhiraj braced himself for the fall, but it never happened. Over his shoulder, he saw Ted's doppelgänger standing on a beige bathroom rug. He was keeping Dhiraj suspended in mid-air.
"You had to make things difficult. Now I need to wipe my mom's mind for about the 20th time. Who knew that what they said about a mother's instinct was true?"
Dhiraj floated back in the direction he came from. He attempted to scream, but Ted's power had clamped his mouth shut as well.
"I'll probably need to come up with a story for the neighbors as well. Maybe you could write it when you're in the right frame of mind."
Dhiraj struggled, but no matter how much he tightened his muscles, the powerful creature in front of him wouldn't let go. His feet touched down just inside the bathroom. The glass crunched beneath his shoes.
"How about we try this again? Not as my friend, but as my slave."
A tear trickled down the side of Dhiraj's face as his mind went blank.
22
Ted coughed and looked for blood where his face had made impact with the ground. He didn't see any, but he watched as the portal he'd just created closed in on itself.
No blood. So, he didn't get my lung–
Pain tore his thoughts apart as Pluric yanked the spiked mace out of Ted's back. His shirt grew warm with fluid. Ted used his powers to cinch his outfit tightly around his wounds and slid himself across the stone floor, narrowly avoiding another strike with the mace.
He ignored the burning in his thighs as they made impact with the ground, using his momentum to cartwheel himself sideways into a standing position. He took up a fighting stance as he glared across the room at the man who'd been his second-in-command for the last three months.
Even though Ted knew his true identity, his mind clouded with thoughts of Pluric the friend. Pluric the confidant. Pluric the fellow murderer. Ted tried to shake it off as Pluric the attacker approached.
The mace dragged along the stone behind the hulking figure. Sparks accompanied a high-pitched scraping sound. "I knew you were resistant. I had to keep with the clean slate approach every couple of weeks. How'd you do it? It'll help the research I do after I flay your corpse."
Pluric sent the mace flying in Ted's direction. He ducked under the ball as it stuck in the corner of the stone and concentrated on the weakest link in the chain. The weapon snapped in two before Pluric could pull it back, and the chain hung limply from the deadly-orb-turned-wall-ornament.
Ted stood tall. "Aw, did I break your toy?"
Pluric smirked. "It'll still work when you jam your own face into it."
Ted turned on a dime as his body moved with the puppet master's commands. He walked without control until he was eye level with a mass of metal spikes.
Pluric chuckled. "I wonder what the General will think about your demise. I'll wait to tell him until he's finished putting his hands all over your girlfriend and dooming your planet, of course."
Ted was about to jab his eye right through the spikes of the neutered mace when Pluric blinked, and the use of his powers came back to him for half a second. It was all the time he needed. Ted flew himself backward at top speed, slamming right into the chest of the unsuspecting attacker.
They crashed hard enough into the wall to leave a lightning-shaped crack before they spilled onto the floor. Ted's shoulder popped out of the socket from the collision, and the agony coursed through his low-hanging left arm. Fortunately for Ted, Pluric's skull took most of the impact. Through watery eyes, the formerly brainwashed hero saw blood trickle down from the torturer's temple.
Ted stood resumed his fighting stance. "How well does your mind control work with a concussion?"
Pluric stumbled before regaining his balance. "About as well as your powers do with half a dozen dark souls in the room."
Ted's eyes darted to a second balcony where a squadron of troops stared straight at him. He was going to have to win this fight the old-fashioned way. And quickly.
Ted rushed forward, but Pluric was ready for him. A stomach punch followed by a hard uppercut to his chin sent him reeling. Another one-armed approach earned him a kick
to the thigh and an elbow to the side of the face.
Ted hopped backward a few steps and looked down at his useless, dangling arm. "Please let this hurt less than it seems to in the movies."
With a running start, Ted jammed his shoulder back into the socket, and a blinding wave of pain nearly caused him to black out.
He moved his arm gingerly and tried to catch his breath. "Nope. Much worse."
Pluric laughed. "Do you really think that a boy can beat a man who trained to do this for hundreds of years?"
Ted gave an affirmative nod. "I've got a tiny, little advantage."
"If you say tenacity, I'm going to vomit."
Ted took a deep breath and pumped up his diaphragm to scream at the top of his lungs. "Tenacity!"
Pluric's head wound coupled with the loud noise caused him to shudder. Ted grabbed the dark soul by the waist and jerked him into the wall once more. Pluric's head bounced against the stone.
Ted screamed once more. "Tenacity!"
Pluric yelled back. "Stop saying that word!" As the dark soul pushed himself off the wall, Ted bolted at top speed, literally running circles around the injured mind reader. The third time he circled around his opponent, Pluric went down to one knee.
"Tenacity!"
Between the pain, the dizziness, and the still-trickling blood, Pluric's consciousness had no choice but to give way. He collapsed to the ground and stayed there.
Ted grinned. "Truth be told, it has nothing to do with tenacity. I just know how concussions work. Thank you, professional football."
It took only a few seconds for the adrenaline to wane enough for Ted's injuries to return to the front of his mind. The wounds on his back seemed to have stopped bleeding, but that didn't make them hurt any less. His shoulder still throbbed like nothing he'd ever experienced. And his face was beginning to bruise from Pluric's expert strikes.
"Watch out, ladies. I'm gonna have some killer scars to show you."
Ted looked up at the balcony to see the dark souls had vacated the premises. He took the opportunity to deaden his pain sensors as he recreated the portal home.
"Never look a gift horse in the mouth. Whatever the hell that means."
Ted had barely had enough time to push off with his right foot when the arrow went straight through his ankle. He yelped in pain, his body crashing to the ground. It took mere moments for the portal to shrink down to a single point in space.
Ted tried to ignore the arrow piercing his leg as he sat up. Over 50 dark souls closed around him with a variety of weapons drawn.
I'm lucky it was just an arrow.
The circle of dark souls tightened.
"You fellas wouldn't happen to know where the General lookalike contest is being held, would you? I'd hate to be late."
Nobody laughed. Nobody even blinked.
"Tough crowd."
As the largest of the group bound his arms and legs, he wondered if he'd lost his only chance of making it back home.
23
Jennifer shook off the feeling of deja vu as she ascended the front stoop of the replica house. It looked just like the house her father had raised her in. The government had even hired gardeners to ensure the bushes and flowers in the front yard were exactly as they'd been before. She was sure they'd taken such care to provide a feeling of comfort after Kable had torched the town. Instead, it made an ever-present shiver radiate down her spine.
You can't go home again.
It'd been three days since she stormed off from Dhiraj in the midst of their date. For the first day, his reaction was about what she expected, but it didn't take long for everything to change. The last two days, Dhiraj had completely ignored her in the hallways. He didn't look angry or hurt when he passed her by. He simply looked like he'd moved on.
Jennifer sniffled and raised her hand to knock on the front door. Her arm froze in midair. She was avoiding Erica for keeping secrets, and Natalie was on some kind of silent warpath. Beth and Winny were taking senioritis to a whole new level with their third college "visit" tour in the last two months. She had only one person left to turn to.
It only took one knock for the dark soul who looked like her father to answer the door. He wore exactly what Jennifer would expect him to wear in the late evening: an Eagles t-shirt and the rattiest pair of jeans he could find.
His face was a cross between hesitant and surprised. "It's a little late for visitors."
She let her lungs fill and empty. "How about for people who live here?"
The worry washed away from his face. "Come on in."
Jennifer crossed the threshold and gazed at the picture-perfect recreation of her home. It was the same furniture. The same green carpet. It lacked some of the blemishes and nicks that came from two decades of having been lived in, but it somehow maintained the same smell. The old Erica described it as potato chips and cleaning spray. Jennifer hadn't realized how much she missed the unique odor.
The sheriff's double shut the door and fiddled with his hands. "Would you like some Diet Coke? I've kept it stocked just in–"
"I know it's not your fault. It's not your fault my dad is dead."
The sheriff nodded and held his breath.
Jennifer looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. "You even have his ticks. He would always hold his breath when he was nervous."
The sheriff let out a big puff of air. His breath had the scent of onion bagels on it. Jennifer ignored the melty feeling the familiarity brought on. "I know I'm a hypocrite for befriending… the new Erica and not caring about you. It makes me a terrible person."
The sheriff instinctively drew closer but stopped short. It was as if there were a force field around her, but a large part of her brain wanted him to break the invisible barrier. She fought back the tears with gusto.
"I remember everything. Not just from my life on the Realm of Souls. I've got all the memories and feelings that your father had. Every scraped knee and every broken heart."
The sheriff offered his hand beyond the personal space barrier. Jennifer let go of the anxiety and fear. She took a deep breath and linked her fingers with the gruff, familiar, calloused hand of her father.
"I care about you just as much as your real father did."
Jennifer coughed and continued to fight tooth and nail against the waterworks. "I know. And that's why shutting you out makes me a terrible person."
Sheriff Norris gave a half smile. "I know all your dirt, honey. There are plenty of other things that make you more terrible than shutting me out."
Jennifer laughed and the tears burst through. She let them trickle out in a flood of relief.
Jennifer wiped her face with her sleeve. "You're the absolute worst."
The sheriff chuckled. "Let's get you a tissue and a drink."
The next few minutes felt like old times. After recounting the hotel where she'd stayed for the last two nights to avoid Erica, Jennifer discussed school, sports, and Dhiraj with her father. He soaked up every word and made the entire experience like a dream come true. Jennifer knew that her dad would never be back, but maybe Dhiraj was right. Maybe a fake father figure was better than nothing at all.
Jennifer rapped her fingernails against the laminated marble lookalike of the kitchen island. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. I've pushed everybody away."
Sheriff Norris swallowed another bite of onion bagel and looked into her eyes. "Not everybody. You could talk to Erica in the next five minutes and everything would be straightened out. Give Natalie a couple of days, she's bound to snap out of it. And Dhiraj–"
"Who won't even look at me right now."
The sheriff flashed a knowing grin. "He's just trying to be manly. Blink your eyelashes at him a few times and he'll be putty in your hands."
Jennifer laughed and could feel her face getting flush. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so happy. As her faux-father joined in, she noticed something.
Jennifer leaned in. "What's wrong?"
The sheriff
blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You just held your breath again."
He put up his hands. "No I didn't."
Jennifer braced on her elbows and shifted even further forward. "It goes two ways. You can tell what I'm thinking, but I can read you, too. Tell me what's making you nervous."
Now her father was starting to get flushed. The apple didn't fall far from the tree.
"Have I ever told you that you'd make a good private investigator?"
Jennifer stuck out the tip of her tongue. "Every year when I figure out what Christmas presents you're getting me two weeks early. What are you hiding from me, old man?"
The sheriff took a step back. "We were having such a nice moment, I didn't want to ruin things."
Jennifer's throat closed up and her pulse began to quicken. "You know something. And it's big."
The sheriff nodded.
Jennifer slapped her palms on the countertop. "You need to tell me!"
Sheriff Norris groaned and ran his hands through his hair. "Okay! I apologize in advance."
"You're making me nervous."
"The General made contact with me and the other dark souls."
Jennifer heart plummeted. "When?"
"A few times. There's going to be an attack. It'll be devastating. It could tear the world apart."
Jennifer slowly lowered her hands off the counter. "And you're not supposed to be telling me, are you?"
The sheriff shook his head. "Of course not." Jennifer pushed back from the island and stood up quickly, letting her chair fall to the ground. She dashed across the room and pulled her phone from her purse. "I need to call Erica and we need to figure out how to stop it."
"It's going to be at the–"
"The Summit. I figured."
The sheriff squinted.
Jennifer unlocked her phone and looked up. "As you said, I should be a private eye."
She was about to shoulder her purse and go running through the front door when something internal stopped her. Instead, she walked across the room and wrapped her arms around her father's neck.