Marrow

by Preston Norton

  I was breathless. Why? How could that be true? It didn’t make any sense.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say it was your mother’s death that started it,” said Flex. “A car accident—something so simple. Spine had saved so many people, but he couldn’t save her. He didn’t go from good to evil overnight, but he did stop feeling. He just stopped caring. I think a tragedy like that could make anyone spiral out of control if they let it. It’s the only possibility that makes sense. All I know is that he loved your mother more than life itself. Living without her just wasn’t an option.”

  I hadn’t noticed until now the moisture trickling down my cheek. I hastily wiped it away. I couldn’t take this conversation anymore.

  “So who’s Nightmare?” I asked, vying desperately for a subject change.

  Flex was caught off guard by the change of topic but didn’t seem to mind it. “A friend of your father,” he said. “The two have been friends since before he trained me.”

  “And Nova and Specter didn’t know who he was?” I asked.

  “Nightmare was a Super, but he never even tried to be a hero,” said Flex. “Or a villain, for that matter. He was a recluse. He lived out in the woods and didn’t want anything to do with people. The two of them would occasionally go fishing and ramble about politics and philosophy, but I’ve never even talked to him. Just seen his face a couple times. One ugly dude.”

  “Yeah he is,” I said with a weak laugh. “A mother couldn’t love that face.”

  “Not even a little bit,” said Flex, chuckling.

  Our laughter faded awkwardly. As much as I wanted to make light of the situation, it was obvious neither of us was in quite the laughing mood.

  “So . . . what happened with Nightmare anyway?” Flex asked.

  It would have been really easy to give him the extremely condensed version of the story that I’d given Sapphire. After surviving at least forty-eight hours of torture, the last thing I wanted to do was talk about it. But I wanted answers even more. My experience with Nightmare wasn’t exactly something I could just shrug aside. And as far as I knew, Flex was one of the only people who actually knew who this guy was.

  So I told him everything.

  Flex listened quietly. Once I started, it was impossible to stop. The words became a landslide coming out of my mouth. Flex’s facial expression didn’t budge the entire time. After I finished, I had to take a deep breath. I already felt queasy.

  It was another long moment before Flex finally spoke.

  “Spine . . . ?” he said. The name came out with all the subtlety of a gag reflex. “He told you Spine sent him?”

  “Yep,” I said, grimacing.

  “And the whole thing was just an elaborate illusion?”

  “Yep.”

  “And Oracle thinks Spine has been spying on her?”

  “Yep.”

  Flex stared at the road ahead for a moment longer before he unexpectedly pulled one hand away, glancing behind him as he groped the back seat. This sudden diversion did not last long. He returned with a familiar package in a manila envelope.

  “So this is for me?”

  The videotape.

  “You have it?” I exclaimed questioningly. “I thought Nightmare took it!”

  Flex shook his head. “It was tucked in your jacket when I found you.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Nightmare hadn’t bothered to search me? He was interrogating me about my visit with Oracle! I even told him I was carrying a package from her!

  And he didn’t bother going back to get it?

  Flex crinkled the manila package beneath his fingertips. “It’s a VHS tape, isn’t it.”

  It didn’t sound like he was asking.

  “Uh . . . yeah,” I said.

  “And it’s supposed to motivate me to go visit Oracle?”

  I nodded, but my mind was preoccupied with something else.

  “You haven’t watched it yet?” I asked.

  Flex tossed it back in the back seat. “Don’t need to. I already know what it is.”

  My mouth hung slightly ajar as I glanced back and forth between Flex and the package in the backseat. “Well? What is it?”

  “A home movie,” said Flex.

  “A what?”

  “I was an orphan,” Flex explained. “Oracle adopted me before I was admitted into FIST. It didn’t matter that she was blind; that crazy old lady had a moral code to videotape everything. I don’t know which home movie it is, but I’m sure it’s one of them. Worst home movies ever, by the way. Everything’s way off center. My head is cut off half the time.”

  I nodded slowly as I processed everything. It suddenly made perfect sense why she trusted Flex so much. Also why she had his entire hero track record memorized.

  I couldn’t imagine the two of them living under the same roof.

  “So . . . do you want to visit her then?” I asked.

  “No,” said Flex in a flat tone. Then he sighed. “But we’re going to anyway.”

  “When?”

  “Right now.”

  “What? Now? It’s like four in the morning.”

  “Good,” said Flex. “That means we’ll catch her at home.”

  I didn’t have the energy to protest. Instead, I simply slumped back in my seat.

  Suddenly my head pounded. The familiar ticking sound that I kept waking up to was echoing through my skull louder than ever now.

  TICK TICK TICK TICK . . . TICK . . . TICK TOOOCK TICK TICK . . .

  That’s when I noticed two headlights from my side window. I wouldn’t have given the car a second glance, but the headlights didn’t seem to be angled straight. They faced the ground and then moved, flashing me directly in the face before streaming up and cutting through the storm clouds.

  None of the car’s wheels were touching the ground.

  “What the—?” said Flex.

  Out of sheer instinct, I tapped into my skeletal structure, fortifying myself. Not a second later, the flying car smashed into us. My head whipped so fast, the next few seconds became a blur. Our surroundings spun and toppled. Gravity reversed as we rolled. Our dangerous momentum came to an abrupt halt as we hit something else from Flex’s side.

  I was numb. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I couldn’t think right. I blinked several times, trying to register my surroundings. We had hit the solid concrete base of a street lamp. The car practically folded around it. Flex was hanging limp from the shoulder strap of his seat belt. There was a gash across his forehead, accompanied by a bloody nose and a cut lip.

  I tried to say his name. I couldn’t. Either that or I couldn’t hear myself speak. All I could make out was a high pitched ringing sound that pierced my skull.

  “Flex . . .”

  I heard my voice that time, although it was strained and barely audible. Fortunately, I could hear the sounds of city life as well—a barking dog, a distant siren, the sound of the freeway like gentle ocean waves . . .

  Metal screeched beside me. My door was ripped off, landing on the ground with a heavy clank.

  An invisible force gripped every inch of my body and wrenched me from the car. It didn’t seem to matter that my bone structure was still at its densest. My insides defied gravity as I soared across the street—four whole empty lanes. I hit a solid surface behind me—literally smashed into it. My body was still numb to the impact, but I felt brick crumble around my super-enhanced frame.

  If my skeletal structure had been at its normal density, I would have been out cold for sure. Maybe even worse. This invisible force felt like the concentrated power of a hurricane.

  Telekinesis?

  A tall, skinny silhouette levitated out of the shadows. As the figure drifted past a nearby street lamp, his face was illuminated.

  It was Nero.

  CHAPTER 16

  “Hello, Marrow,” said Nero. His usual cocky smirk was gone. There was something far more threatening in his eyes.

  “Nero?” I gasped. “What are you d
oing?”

  Nero levitated closer, gliding across the shadows like a ghost. It wasn’t until now that I noticed he was wearing a sleek red and black bodysuit designed to match Fantom’s. He stopped only an arm’s length away from me, as if taunting my inability to move.

  “They were supposed to kick you out of FIST,” said Nero. “You were supposed to be just another orphan on the street. You weren’t supposed to get a second chance. Especially not with Flex.”

  “What the heck are you talking about?” I asked. As soon as I did, I felt stupid. I knew exactly what he was talking about. “This is about you cheating, isn’t it?”

  Nero rolled his eyes. “Cheating is such a subjective term. There is no cheating when it comes to survival of the fittest. I am the fittest. So I did what I had to in order to survive.”

  I already knew Nero had cheated. It was the only explanation for what happened at the Final Challenge. But somehow, having him flaunt it in front of me and then tell me it wasn’t technically cheating renewed every ounce anger and hatred I had ever had towards him.

  “How?” I said through gritted teeth. “I called you out in front of Havoc. He said there was no way you could have cheated.”

  “A magician never reveals his secrets,” said Nero with a tantalizing smile. “But I will tell you that I am much more powerful than you think I am.”

  “So what are you doing here now?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to kill you, Marrow.”

  The casual way he said this made it difficult to take him seriously. I mean, this was Nero. Brooding, awkward, pain-in-the-butt Nero. He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a killer.

  But then my gaze shifted to Flex’s battered Volvo folded around the street lamp. As far as I could tell, Flex hadn’t budged.

  Was he . . . ?

  No. I shook the thought from my head.

  “Why would you want to kill me?” I asked. “Didn’t you already get what you wanted?”

  I was surprised at my own boldness. I didn’t sound even a little afraid. Heck, I didn’t feel afraid. My tone was more skeptical than anything else. Somehow, the threat of death didn’t seem to register in my brain anymore. Maybe it was because I had already died at least a hundred different deaths in the past couple days.

  “Yes, I did,” said Nero, nodding unconvincingly. “Being trained by Fantom is all I ever wanted. Once I finish the Sidekick Internship Program and graduate FIST, I’ll have a reputation to last me a lifetime. I’ll already be a celebrity.”

  “Peachy,” I said. “So what’s the problem?”

  “You are, Marrow. As long as you’re in the picture, my credibility stands threatened. The more credibility you have, the less I have.”

  “Credibility?” I repeated. “Are you nuts? How do I have any credibility?”

  “Because they teamed you with Flex!” said Nero, throwing his hands in the air. His eyes were wide and hysterical. “Don’t you get it?”

  “Uh . . . I don’t know about you, but I’ve actually met Flex,” I said. “So no. I don’t get it.”

  Despite my nonchalant tone, I couldn’t help glancing at the totaled car once more. Flex still hadn’t moved. Why wasn’t he moving? My stomach clenched as I considered the worst.

  “Flex and your dad were a team!” said Nero. “Not just a hero and a sidekick. They were an unstoppable force. If it wasn’t for your stupid mom getting herself killed and your psycho dad losing it, they probably would have been the greatest Superhero duo of all time. I know. I’ve done my research. Flex and Spine weren’t together long, but they set some records. Although records are easily forgotten when a hero goes bad. And your dad was the worst.”

  My arms started shaking. Despite Nero’s control over my body, my hands balled into fists. I could put up with a lot of Nero’s crap, but he was pushing every bit of patience I had.

  “You are your father’s son,” said Nero. “Your power is just an underdeveloped version of his. You together with Flex . . . your powers mesh. It wouldn’t take much for you two to recreate their success.”

  I tapped into my skeletal structure, commanding my fortified bones to fight the power restraining them. My veins bulged from the effort. The air around me felt as solid as concrete.

  My knees budged.

  It wasn’t much, but it was enough for me to brace the soles of my feet against the wall. I flattened my palms against the wall as well, pushing as hard as I could.

  I’m stronger than Nero. I’m stronger than Nero. I’m stronger than Nero.

  “And that’s why I have to kill you,” said Nero. “And it’ll be all too easy to frame Flex. Splash a little beer on him and voilà! A tragic car accident. Just like your mom. Poetic, isn’t it?”

  I screamed. The wall groaned and cracked behind me, my hands and feet crushing into the brick.

  Nero’s telekinetic grip snapped.

  I flew forward faster than he could blink. Rearing my arm back, my fist flew forward like a fleshy bullet, connecting with his face. Nero hurtled backwards, a human skipping stone across the four-lane road. His momentum was only broken as he hit a wooden apartment sign that read, “Welcome to Sunnyside,” accompanied by a smiling sun wearing sunglasses. The sign splintered on impact.

  I didn’t stop. Reversing my density, my feet glided me across the street. The wind sliced past me. I leapt up, defying every natural law of gravity. My insides lifted with me. I pulled my fist back, preparing to come down on him like a comet.

  Nero blinked, mouth ajar, as he registered the world of pain he was about to be in. His arms flew up, guiding his telekinesis no doubt. I mentally dared him to even try and stop me in the air. Go on. Try.

  I didn’t see the dislodged stop sign flying through the air until it hit me in the face.

  I tapped into my bone density only a split second late. With my delayed density tapped, I hit the ground like a bomb, breaking the street around me. I laid there numb for several seconds, swallowed in a cloud of dust. It wasn’t until I registered the two-foot crater of shattered asphalt around me that I saw a silhouette hovering over the dust cloud. The silhouette was red.

  Too much red. This thing was way too big to be Nero.

  The dust dispersed, revealing a floating crimson Volkswagen Beetle. Nero was barely visible, levitating behind it.

  “Red punch buggy,” said Nero.

  The Beetle dropped.

  I sucked the density from my bones and practically bounced off the ground. There wasn’t enough time to jump out of the way though.

  I jumped up instead.

  My bones became solid steel as I rocketed skyward with my newfound momentum, fist in the air, Superman-style. I sliced through the framework like butter—not-so-smooth butter with layers of greasy metal and leather upholstery. I exploded out the other end like a missile to where Nero was hovering.

  I didn’t even have to move my fist. Nero’s demented smirk barely had a chance to become wide-eyed shock. I pummeled him in the stomach.

  Nero crumpled as we both fell. My skeleton became light and I landed like a cat. Nero hit the asphalt like a limp fish.

  “You didn’t say ‘no punch backs,’” I said.

  Again, I wasted no time for retaliation. I rushed forward, fist raised. Time to finish this.

  Nero rolled over, his eyes barely focused on me. Apparently that was all the concentration he needed. He lifted a wobbly arm, fingers outstretched.

  My windpipe closed.

  I stumbled and fell to my knees. I couldn’t breathe. Grabbing my throat with both hands, I fumbled desperately to remove whatever it was that seemed to be strangling me. There was nothing.

  Nero casually crawled to his feet and dusted his jumpsuit off. A smile slithered across his thin face as he shook his head, eyeing me like a pathetic piece of road kill.

  “I’m sorry I have to go Darth Vader on you like this,” said Nero. “I know it’s not very sportsmanlike. But I really want you to die. I’m sure I’ll get over it.”

  C
HAPTER 17

  I gagged and wheezed, gasping for breath. My lungs felt like they were caving in. My surroundings became a blur. Black spots danced in front of me, and I crumpled to the floor. I stared at Nero’s feet as he drew near.

  This was it. I was going to die. Just like that.

  Something long and fleshy shot out like a whip and nailed Nero in the face.

  My windpipe opened. Oxygen flooded into my lungs. I gasped, barely able to contain the sudden airflow.

  As my orientation slowly returned, I crawled onto my hands and knees. I craned my head up to witness my hero.

  Flex.

  I couldn’t believe it. He waltzed up, cocky as ever, as his arm whipped back into place. He wiped his bloody lip with it. His dreadlocks bounced as he cracked his neck from side to side.

  “Nobody picks on my sidekick except for me,” said Flex. “You got that, you brain-warped little gremlin?”

  Nero and I both staggered upright at the same time. His eyes darted hesitantly between the two of us. Fighting two Supers obviously wasn’t in his plans.

  “You okay, Flex?” I asked, not daring to take my eyes off Nero.

  “Dandy,” said Flex. “You?”

  “Never better,” I said unenthusiastically. “Don’t go easy on this kid, okay?”

  “You kidding? He totaled my car. I’m going to kick his butt inside out.”

  “I guess that means I have to stop going easy too, huh?” said Nero.

  Nero clapped his hands together. This was followed by a lurching metallic groan. I noticed movement out of both sides of my peripheral vision. Two cars catapulted from opposite sides of the street, aimed to smash Flex and me together. I lunged forward while Flex dove out the opposite side. I landed in a roll and scrambled to my feet. My disoriented gaze shifted from side to side. Where was Nero?

  Out of pure instinct, I glanced up. Sure enough, Nero was soaring high into the twilight atmosphere. It was obvious that this wasn’t some elaborate retaliation.

  Stop going easy? The punk was running away!

  Sure I could jump high with my power, but this was far beyond my range. I frantically scanned the vicinity for any tall jumping point. Nothing came close.