“Oh. Wait—so what part of that was a lie, exactly?”
“I said I sort of lied. I really do want to catch up with you. But I need to take a raincheck on the whole lunch part. And the whole talking-about-what-we’ve-been-up-to part.”
“Okay, so just everything was a lie then.” He shot me a weak smile, and guilt compressed my chest. I reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Listen, I wouldn’t drag you out on a mysterious not-date like this for anything less than a really, really good reason.”
He pulled his hand out from mine. “Okay, I’m listening.”
I glanced around again, then stood on my tiptoes to bring my lips to his ear. “I’m taking you to meet The Fox.”
After changing trains and heading into West Weyland, where the airport and the state penitentiary took up most of the real estate, Anatolya and I finally left the Fishbone and took a shuttle to an airport parking garage. There, in the open air of the top floor, we found Reed waiting for us.
More specifically, we found The Fox waiting for us. In full costume. On top of a black Hummer. Standing with his fists on his hips like some kind of 1930’s comic book character, except without the cape.
I had to stifle a laugh.
Anatolya, on the other hand, was awestruck. He pointed up at The Fox with one wagging finger like a fangirl at Comic Con who just spotted her favorite actor.
“That’s… that’s… ” he sputtered.
“I told you I was taking you to see him.”
He turned to me, his blue eyes misting over. “I didn’t think it could be true.”
The Fox leapt off the tall SUV, managing a flip before landing lightly in front of Anatolya. I made a mental note to never, ever stop giving him shit about how thick he was laying this on. There was no way he wasn’t enjoying it just a tiny bit.
“I hear you’re the founder of the Fox Coalition,” he said, his voice deeper and rougher than normal. I coughed to mask a snort. “Thank you for rallying so many people to my cause.”
Anatolya managed a squeak that sounded like, “Thank welcome.”
“What inspired you to do it?”
“I-I-I don’t know.” Anatolya, who was just as tall as Reed and even a little more muscular, seemed cowed in the other man’s presence. He slumped slightly and stared up into The Fox’s eyes.
“Sure you do,” The Fox urged, resting a hand on Anatolya’s shoulder. “That’s a big undertaking, and it’s not something most people would have the guts to do. So, what was it that gave you the idea?”
That mild bit of flattery did the trick, and Anatolya straightened up. “I, uh—” He cleared his throat. “I guess I just thought it was about time somebody really did something. All the crime, and all those girls going missing… I hated reading it in the news every day. Then you showed up, and I realized even if I can’t do what you do, I might be able to help you keep doing it.”
The Fox nodded. “Good answer. And I appreciate it. Really.”
I caught his eye and asked a question with my eyebrows. He inclined his head, so I took a deep breath and turned to Anatolya. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I didn’t just bring you here to thank you for the rally and everything. We actually need your help.”
“‘We?’” Anatolya repeated. “You work with The Fox?”
I hesitated and glanced at Reed, who nodded again. “Yeah. I’m sort of his… sidekick, I guess. But I’m not, you know, super-powered like him,” I rushed to clarify.
“That is so freaking cool,” he breathed.
“Um… thanks. Well, anyway, we need to get into the storage warehouses at Belladonna. And probably into the shipyard, as well.”
“At Belladonna?” Anatolya crinkled his nose and frowned. “Why?”
I hesitated. I trusted Anatolya enough that he wouldn’t tell his bosses we were coming, but did I really trust that he wasn’t a part of the Nightshades’ side businesses? I stared into his eyes, trying to decide if I saw anything there that was remotely like Ian Nyx or Bruce Fabiano.
All I saw was my old friend, the grown-up version of the little boy who’d played tag with me in the woods behind my house. Then I remembered: he wasn’t just my friend. He’d known Bethany, too. She’d babysat the pair of us on countless Friday nights. The three of us had built forts out of cardboard boxes in the summertime, playing in them until the fall rainstorms melted them away. As I looked at him, fifteen years disappeared from his face, and I saw him as he was back then—a kid with nothing more to worry about than math worksheets and spelling bees. That little boy was still in those deep blue eyes, and it was the kind of childlike innocence Bruce and Ian had poisoned out of themselves long ago.
“It’s Bethany,” I said. “She’s missing, and Ian Nyx has her. Don’t ask me how I know; I just do.”
Anatolya he blinked at me slowly. “Bethany? She’s gone missing? I haven’t seen it on the news.”
I shook my head. “The police don’t think it’s related to the disappearances in the Trident. She was taken from her house on the south side, and the cop I talked to is convinced she and Bruce just ran off somewhere together. But they didn’t.”
“And you think… you think Ian is involved? C’mon, he’s my boss. He’s a good guy.”
“What makes you think he’s so good? Because he pays you on time? Maybe gives you a bottle of whiskey at Christmas?”
He was silent.
“That’s not ‘goodness,’” I said. “There’s a difference. He might wear a mask of common decency, but he’s pure evil under there.” I paused. “I’ve seen it myself.”
Anatolya stared at me then, and I had the strangest sense. It was like déjà vu, but through a mirror. I felt Anatolya searching my eyes for exactly what I’d been looking for just a moment ago: a reason to trust me.
He must’ve found one, because he nodded tersely and looked back and forth between The Fox and me. “Okay. I can get you in. Bring a van or a box truck so we can pass you off as an office supply delivery, okay?”
Reed finally spoke. “When?”
“My shift starts in a few hours. Come to the main entry gate at four o’clock.”
Four o’clock. The words sent a jolt of pain through my body. I ached for sleep; I didn’t even dare count the number of hours since the last time I’d closed my eyes. And even my last night’s sleep had been fitful, because I’d been plagued by nightmares of what I imagined Bruce doing to Bethany. In my mind, I knew I should be grateful we wouldn’t have to wait long to continue the search for Bethany, but my body screamed for some rest.
The Fox thanked Anatolya and the two men shook hands before I walked our new accomplice back to the shuttle stop at the base of the parking garage. Then I stood there for a few minutes, watching as the bus took him to the Fishbone station before heading back to Reed. My feet moved slowly; I wanted to run to Reed so we could start preparing, but I was quickly running out of energy. Even the thought of walking the hundred or so yards to the open-air lot where we’d stashed the truck was draining.
Yet again, Reed came to my rescue. Before I’d gone more than fifty feet, he pulled up next to me and leaned across the seat to open the passenger door. I pulled myself into the truck, sighing back into the upholstery and wondering if he’d mind if I slept on the way back to the docks. To my surprise, instead of leaving the lot, he pulled into a space and shut off the engine.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“It’s the long-term parking, so I’ve already paid for the day.”
He stood and pulled me to my feet, practically dragging me into the truck’s cargo area. At some point since I’d left the truck to meet Anatolya, Reed had put together a makeshift bed from piles of mismatched blankets and two small pillows. He pulled out his cell phone and checked the time.
“We have just under four hours before we need to be at the Belladonna gate. There’s nothing worse than trying to fight when you’re fatigued, so… we need to take a nap.” He hesitated. “
Unless you’re not comfortable with that?”
In answer, I sank to my knees and crawled into the bed. The floor of the truck was nowhere near as soft as my mattress at home, but in that moment, it felt like a cloud. Reed lay down beside me, somehow arranging himself so we weren’t touching, but there was little more than an inch between our bodies. I started to think about that, getting so far as to wish he’d put his arm around me, and then gave into my fatigue and slept.
One Friday night when I was sixteen, I snuck out of my bedroom to go to a party. It was after my curfew, and I remember feeling guilty as I climbed down the trellis from my window and dropped onto the wet grass. But that was nothing compared to what I felt hours later. When I arrived home and had to climb back up again, I stood on the lawn and stared up at my lighted window, paralyzed with fear.
I couldn’t remember if I’d left my light on. There were two possibilities: either I’d left it on and everything was fine, or my parents were sitting on my bed and plotting my punishment in the lamplight. As long as I stayed on the grass, I wasn’t in trouble, and I preferred that state of limbo to the possibility of getting grounded. Eventually, I swallowed my fear and scaled the trellis to find that I had, in fact, left the light on when I’d left. My parents never even knew I was gone.
A similar feeling of dread squeezed at my guts as I pulled the truck up to the security kiosk in front of Belladonna Seafood, but much stronger. Since Anatolya already knew I was involved, we decided I’d do the driving. Reed crouched behind the driver’s seat to remain out of sight of any cameras, and I was glad he couldn’t see my face. I simultaneously felt the need to vomit and to use the restroom. I could probably manage the first—Reed had to have a bucket or an old fast food bag somewhere in the back of the truck—but the second would be impossible. I could hardly walk into the Belladonna lobby, use their bathroom, and then break into their storage facility ten minutes later. I might as well just waltz into Ian Nyx’s office and start punching his teeth in while his security team watched.
The truck idled next to the open, empty window of the kiosk while my colon clenched and unclenched. I’d expected Anatolya to lean out right away, but there didn’t seem to be anyone in there at all. Had his shift changed? Were they onto us? Did he turn traitor? Was he being tortured somewhere right now, spilling everything he knew? Stomach acid crept up my esophagus, and I switched from wishing for a bucket to wishing for some Tums.
“Something’s wrong.” The words burned in my throat. “He should be here. We’re so screwed.”
“Calm down,” Reed muttered from behind me. “Give it a minute.”
The seconds ticked by. I dug my nails into my biceps, trying not to let the fear that was growing in my stomach take over to the point where I might flee out the back of the truck. I closed my eyes and thought of Bethany and Angie, picturing the three of us eating dinner in Helena’s diner, talking about baby names and making plans for Bethany’s shower. They’d be great friends; I just knew it.
The sound of a window opening to my left made my eyelids snap up. Anatolya was there, holding a clipboard and staring at me with raised eyebrows.
“Uh, hi,” I managed lamely.
“Purpose of visit?” Anatolya’s voice was sharp and professional.
“Delivery. Office supplies.”
“Purchase order?”
“Uh…” Panic exploded in my chest. We didn’t talk about this!
Anatolya handed me a pink sheet of paper. It had the blue Belladonna logo on top and listed four cartons of copy paper and a case of packing tape. The words “PO Approved” were stamped at the bottom.
“Perfect, ma’am, that’s all in order,” he said. “Go on through. Warehouse is to your left and all the way back.”
Before I could thank him—and I really, really wanted to gush those words about five thousand times—he slid the kiosk window shut with a firm click. I sat there stupidly for a second before pressing down on the gas.
“We’re clear,” I whispered to Reed.
“Good. What the hell was that about a purchase order?”
I passed the pink paper back to him. “Anatolya gave me this. He was really prepared.”
“Hmm. If this all goes well, we owe him big time.”
If. If, if, if, if, if— The word flashed in my mind like a neon sign. One hurdle down and untold numbers more to go.
The Belladonna campus was enormous. It took several agonizing minutes just to cruise through their expansive parking lot, which stretched all the way down their main processing plant. Ahead of us, the ocean drew nearer, marked by the tall watchtowers at Belladonna’s private docks. At last the massive plant ended, and I turned the corner to behold a small sea of flat-roofed storage buildings. Row after row, they stretched all the way to the harbor. I cursed.
“What is it?” Reed asked.
“There’s not a warehouse. There’s like thirty.”
He stuck his face between the two front seats and surveyed the expanse of buildings. I kept the truck creeping forward, but I had no idea where to go from here. The sheer number of warehouses we needed to search overwhelmed me, pressing me downward until I could hardly see above the dashboard.
“It’s going to be okay.” Reed climbed up into the passenger seat. “Keep driving.”
I shot him a look that clearly communicated my opinion that this was utterly hopeless and that I’d completely failed my sister and my friend, but he couldn’t see it. He’d squeezed his eyes shut so tightly it looked like it hurt, and his head was tilted to one side.
“Keep going… keep going…” Despite sitting next to me, his voice sounded distant, like his focus was way outside of the truck. “I think… yeah. Left. Go left.”
I turned the wheel, taking us down a row of warehouses that looked identical to the one we’d just left. He pursed his lips into a grim smile.
“This is definitely it. I can feel them.”
“Feel who?”
“The missing girls. They’re alive, and I can sense their fear. Their pain.” He opened his eyes and stared through the windshield, raising a hand to point at the warehouse at the end of the row, on the waterline. “And they’re in there.”
“How many people do you think are in there?” I whispered.
We crouched between two stacks of moldy wooden pallets that sat between the warehouse and the sea. A frigid wind from the harbor whipped around us, and I was grateful for the black ski mask that covered my face. Unlike the rest of the buildings in the area, this one had an air of neglect. The windows along the roofline were all boarded up, and bits of garbage had collected along the lines where the building’s sheet metal siding met the asphalt. If I’d been alone, I would’ve driven right past it. It just felt like… nowhere.
But Reed wasn’t fooled. Of the two gifts the meteor shower had given him, his ability to sense people in distress seemed the handiest. He stared at a spot on the warehouse’s exterior, his eyes so focused I was surprised lasers didn’t shoot out of them and cut us a new doorway.
“I can’t tell. I think they must be close together. Maybe they’re keeping them all in one room or something. I just know this feels a lot stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before, even from patients at the hospital when they’re in a lot of pain.” He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut once again. “I’d say there are at least four.”
Four. The odds were good that Bethany and Angie were in there, maybe even just on the other side of this wall. But the thought that they were in so much agony that Reed had been able to feel their anguish from twelve warehouses away… it sickened me. I reached out and touched the wall, letting the brown-painted steel chase an icy shiver into my fingertips and up my arm.
“Easy there.” Reed pulled me away from the building. “This can’t be like back at Bilgewater. You can’t just barrel through the wall and start throwing punches. We need a plan.”
“Hey, I’m in control. See?” I raised my hand, letting my skin return to normal. “Just getting mate
rial for later.”
“Good. Because I’m going to need you to sit tight for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To get a better idea of where they are. This building is too big. I don’t want to have to worry about the whole thing.”
I opened my mouth to object, then snapped it shut again and settled for a terse nod. I wasn’t super excited to sit here alone just inches away from the viper’s nest, but arguing would just waste valuable time. I had no idea how long Bethany and Angie had or what would be waiting for them when their time ran out.
Reed donned his mask and crept down the edge of the building, managing to stay lower to the ground than I could possibly accomplish without falling over. He disappeared around the corner, and I shrank deeper into the crevice between the pallets. After more minutes than I was happy about, Reed re-appeared from the other side of the warehouse, his body just inches above the asphalt as he came back to me.
And then he was gone again, leaping to the top of one of the stack of pallets as lightly as a cat. He covered the distance to the roof in another single, silent bound. I saw him crouching on the edge of the roof for an instant before he moved inward, and I waited impatiently for him to come back into sight.
A light thump above me signaled his return. He dropped down into the space beside me and pushed his mask up onto his forehead, looking pleased.
“I’ve got them,” he said. “They’re in the far corner, closest to the harbor.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. Their emotions are like a radio signal, and I got crystal-clear reception from that side.” The little bit of happiness faded from his eyes, and a shadow crossed his face. “I can almost hear their voices in my head, calling for help.”
I swallowed. One of those voices belonged to Bethany. I didn’t have Reed’s powers, but I could feel it. If she wasn’t still alive, I’d know. And since Angie had been missing for less than twenty-four hours, the odds were good that she was in there, too. That knowledge stoked the flames inside of me until I felt my skin burning with anger.
Solstice Survivors_Book 1_Superhero Syndrome Page 19