by King, Wesley
Her mother pointed a stern finger. “You don’t know with those maniacs. People have been murdered all over the country. And you know it’s always at night.”
“I’ll be fine,” Lana replied soothingly. “Now put that thing away before you hurt somebody.”
Her mother withdrew her finger, wringing her hands together instead. “I’m sorry. You know I worry about you, and…”
“I know,” Lana said. “I’ll be fine, okay? We’re going to a crowded movie theater.” More lying. Am I becoming a bad kid? she wondered. When did that happen? “I’ll be back by midnight.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “You’ll be back at…”
“Eleven,” Lana finished, smiling. “It was worth a shot. Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad!”
She started down the steps, shivering a little. The ocean was only a few blocks away, and a cold wind blew off the water this time of year. Lana’s hair flapped around her as a particularly strong gust howled down the street.
Good thing I spent all that time combing it, she thought resignedly.
“Jeremy is at his friend’s house,” her mother called after her, leaning out the door. “Call him if you need a ride!”
Lana just shook her head and climbed into the car. “Sorry,” she muttered to Tasha’s brother, who was wearing a lopsided grin. “She’s a bit overprotective.”
“I told him,” Tasha said as they pulled out of the driveway. She waved at Lana’s mom. “Do you think she suspects anything?”
“No,” Lana replied, forcing a smile. She glanced at her mother on the porch and felt another surge of guilt. But it was too late now. “As long as I’m back by curfew, it’ll be fine.”
Tasha laughed. “We’ll get you back in time. She’d have the cops looking for you at five after eleven.”
“Yeah,” Lana said as they drove down the street, leaving her waving mother behind.
Lana sat uncomfortably on one of the fallen logs that had been dragged around the bonfire. The trees at the edge of the beach almost looked like they were moving in the flickering orange glow.
Tasha was sitting beside her, but she was busy talking to one of her brother’s friends, who’d been introduced as “Gongshow.” Lana still had no idea what that meant, nor did she really care. She was cold, tired, and growing steadily more annoyed by the boisterous hooting from the boys around the fire. That, along with the lingering guilt of lying to her mom, had Lana definitely ready to go home.
“It’s ten thirty,” she said. “We should start walking back to the car soon.”
Tasha turned to her, rolling her eyes. “It’s like a two-minute walk and a five-minute drive. We’ll be fine. Go talk to someone, have fun!”
“Yeah,” the older boy said, grinning, “go have some fun!”
Lana glared at him. “Thank you, Gongshow.” She shifted a little. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“There’s an outhouse,” Gongshow said, pointing to a tree. Tasha laughed like this was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
Lana shook her head. Maybe she needed new friends. “Thank you,” she snarled.
But Lana really did have to pee, so she reluctantly walked off into the trees. It was dark beneath the canopy, so she went just far enough that she could still see the fire through the shadows. The wind had picked up, and it was now howling overhead, loud enough that she could barely hear the others. Grimacing, she spotted a particularly large oak and decided to use it as cover. As Lana started toward it, she heard a snap.
She whirled around, terrified, and saw a boy emerge from the darkness, still zipping up his fly.
“Hey,” he said. “Sorry if I scared you. You’re Tasha’s friend, right?”
“Uh…yeah,” Lana replied awkwardly.
He stuck his hand out, and she looked at it in disgust.
“Oh, right,” he said, pulling it back again.
I’ll just hold it until I get home, Lana decided, starting back to the fire. A strong hand landed on her arm.
“Wait a second,” the boy said. “What’s the rush? We didn’t even introduce ourselves yet. I’m Kyle.”
“Lana,” she replied coolly. “Can you take your hand off me, please?”
Kyle stepped in front of her. With his back to the fire, she couldn’t really see his face, but it looked like he was grinning. “Sorry. Have I met you before?”
Lana tried to go around him, but he moved in her way.
“No,” she said. “Excuse me.”
Another strong gust of wind whipped through the trees.
“Stay for a bit,” he said, coming a little closer. “Let’s talk.”
Lana stepped backward, feeling a tinge of fear. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. “We can talk back at the fire,” she said, trying to get around him again.
He stopped her, grabbing her shoulders. “What’s the big deal?” he asked, and then leaned in, trying to kiss her.
Lana lifted her hand and stuck it right on his forehead. It made a smacking noise when it hit. “The big deal is I don’t want to,” she said sweetly.
He leaned in again. “I can change your mind.”
“I can change yours,” Lana said, and kneed him in the groin.
He cursed and bent over. Lana hurried around him, but he snatched her wrist, jarring her elbow. “Wait!”
Without even looking at him, she grabbed one of his fingers with her free hand and wrenched it backward. He swore again and released her.
“I’d rather not,” Lana snarled. But she’d only taken a few steps more when Kyle pulled her arm again, and this time, she lost her balance and tripped.
Lana hit the ground, smacking her cheek against the dirt. She lay there for a moment, dazed, and then looked up to see Kyle standing over her.
“Help!” she managed, but her voice was drowned out by the wind. The boys were shouting so loudly that no one could hear her.
She’d never felt so vulnerable, so weak, in her entire life. What was I thinking coming here? she thought. I’m sorry, Mom.
Lana was at his mercy now, and she knew it. Kyle was too strong for her. She thought she could see him grinning again, and she prepared to fight with everything she had.
Then she saw something move behind Kyle. It looked like one of the shadows had come to life, and it was now slinking toward him.
Lana realized it was a woman just as she leaned into Kyle’s ear.
“Bad move,” the woman whispered.
Kyle tried to turn around, but he didn’t get the chance. In one lightning-fast motion, the woman jabbed him in the side of the neck, and he collapsed. Lana stared at his body in shock.
“Get up,” the woman ordered Lana. She was wearing a scarlet bodysuit and had long black hair that fell almost to her waist.
Lana shakily climbed to her feet, her eyes still on Kyle. “Did you kill him?” She didn’t know whether to be afraid of this woman or just relieved that she’d been saved.
“No,” the woman said. “We’ll leave that for another time. We’ll leave that for you.”
Lana frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“You will. Now, Rono.”
Lana felt something jam into the small of her back, and then a numbing sensation flooded through her. She was unconscious before she hit the ground.
3
HAYDEN SLOWLY DESCENDED THE STAIRS, HIS EYES HALF-CLOSED. He wore only a pair of faded boxers, as was his usual daytime attire, and even they were beginning to devolve back into thread.
Reaching the bottom, Hayden absently kicked through a pile of cans, spilling liquid across the dirty hardwood floor. His bare feet made sticking noises as he walked toward the living room.
I need to start wearing socks, he mused.
Dan and Steve, his best friends, lay sprawled across two stained couches watching TV. They glanced at him as he walked into the room.
“You’re alive,” Steve observed. His T-shirt was riding up, and his hand was resting on his pale, protruding stomach.
“
Sort of,” Hayden said, stretching. He looked around the room. “I see you guys have been cleaning.”
Empty cans, glasses, and dirty plates were everywhere. Chips had been scattered in a finely crushed blanket all around the coffee table, which once had a glass top. Now the shards formed another sedimentary layer over the chips. This was of course a hazard, but Hayden had solved that problem by creating a trail of pizza boxes over the glass, which they now referred to as the “Bridge of Doom.”
“Yeah, we did some work,” Dan said, gesturing at the floor. A tiny space had been cleared away so he could rest his cup. “Looks good, right?”
“Better than ever,” Hayden agreed, and then wandered into the kitchen to get a drink.
He found a glass that looked relatively clean and filled it with tap water. The counter was completely covered with dishes, so Hayden started to put them back into the cupboard.
“What are you doing?” a female voice asked.
Hayden turned around and saw a girl sitting at the table, eating a bowl of cereal. She had short brown hair and was wearing jeans and a red dress shirt. A backpack sat on the table beside her.
“Who are you?” Hayden asked.
“Liz. I’m Steve’s girlfriend, remember? What are you doing?”
Hayden frowned and glanced at the cupboard. “Putting the dishes away?”
“They’re dirty,” she said, as if talking to a child.
“Yeah, I know,” he replied, stacking more plates on the shelf. “That’s the rule in this house. If you want to eat, you wash your own dishes. Everything in here is dirty.”
Liz slowly pushed the bowl of cereal away from her, looking sick.
Hayden continued piling dishes until he’d freed up a big enough area to cook breakfast. He wiped his hands in satisfaction. “You’re looking very put together,” he commented, turning back to Liz. “Is it a school day?”
“Yes, Hayden,” she replied coldly. “Some of us still go to school. We just came from there.”
“Really? Wow, I slept longer than I thought. So Dan and Steve…”
“Were there too,” she finished. “You should really start going again. I know you don’t live with your parents, but…”
“Maybe tomorrow,” Hayden said dismissively, heading back to the living room. He crossed the Bridge of Doom and plopped down onto a recliner.
Hayden hadn’t been to school in two weeks, ever since the incident with his math teacher, Mrs. Hun. All Hayden had done was ask if she was in a bad mood because Attila was giving her a hard time at home. It seemed like a reasonable, and hilarious, comment to him. She didn’t find it as funny.
Mrs. Hun had sent him to the office, where the principal had explained that Mrs. Hun was, in fact, getting a divorce, and gave Hayden a three-day suspension. Hayden was thrilled: he lived alone, so it was just a sentence to play more video games. By the time the suspension was over, he’d decided that he didn’t want to go back.
“Steve, your girlfriend is yelling at me,” Hayden complained. “I forgot you even had a girlfriend. She is cute, though.”
“She can hear you,” Steve said. “Your kitchen is right there.”
Hayden shrugged. “I didn’t say anything bad. It was a compliment. Granted, I’m not crazy about the short hair, but she’s got pretty features.”
“Very nice, Hayden,” Liz said as she walked into the room. “You’re a charmer. I’m leaving; your house disgusts me.”
“Shh,” Hayden replied, looking around in dismay. “You’ll hurt its feelings.”
Liz rolled her eyes and turned to Steve. “Call me later, when you leave. And fix your shirt!”
She marched out of the house, and the door slammed behind her. Steve looked like he was about to get up, but then he just turned up the volume on the TV instead.
“She seems nice,” Hayden said. “Do we have to watch the news?”
Steve nodded. “They just released new info on the Nighthawk disappearance. Everyone was talking about it at school today. Apparently someone spotted a huge guy in that town in Utah, the one Nighthawk was last seen in. Didn’t get a picture, but they said he matches the description of one of the guys from the Night of Ashes, and maybe even the same dude from the Portersfield Incident. Definitely one of the Villains.”
“I’ll care more when I get my superpowers,” Hayden replied. “Until then, let the League deal with it.”
“You’re turning seventeen in three months,” Dan said. “If you haven’t got them by now, you’re not going to.”
“Hey, I still have three months.” Hayden got to his feet and flexed. “Besides, I already have powers. It’s pretty clear that these are supernatural abs.”
“I’m going to be sick,” Steve groaned, as Dan chuckled from the other couch.
“Well,” Hayden said, “I suppose I should have a shower. It’s been a day…or three. And I’ve got people coming over tonight.” He looked down at his boxers. “Think I should change, or just go with these?”
Hayden was halfway up the stairs when the doorbell rang, but he ignored it. Despite his best attempts, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Liz had said. Hayden had lived by himself for a while now, and though he was used to the fact that he didn’t have a normal kid’s life, a part of him still wanted one. Now he’d quit school, and his house really was becoming more and more disgusting.
I better go back on Monday, he thought. One more weekend, and then I’ll apologize to Mrs. Hun.
The doorbell rang again.
“Dan, get it!” he called.
“You get it!” Dan shouted back.
“Fine. Lazy Dan.”
Hayden walked the nine steps back to the front door and swung it open.
“Hello,” he said slowly.
Standing on the porch was a gorgeous woman with long, strawberry-blond hair and a white dress shirt that was unbuttoned right to the point of interest. She smiled, revealing sparkling teeth.
“Sorry for bothering you,” she said in a sweet voice, “but I’m moving in down the street, and I have a really heavy television in my van that I just can’t lift by myself. Can you help me get it inside? Someone was supposed to meet me, but they didn’t show.”
“People these days,” Hayden replied, conscious that he was still wearing only his boxers. “It’s hard to find good help. Well, this is what neighbors are for.”
“Who is it?” Dan shouted from the living room.
“No one!” he called, and turned back to the woman. “Shall we?”
“Thank you so much,” she said. “Hopefully I can return the favor one day.”
Hayden smirked and strolled outside in his bare feet. “I’m sure an opportunity will arise.”
They crossed the street toward a black van that was parked a few houses down.
“Did you know the people who moved out of this house?” she asked, glancing at him.
“I don’t even know the people right next door to me, except that they’ve phoned in two noise complaints.”
She giggled. “A bit of a partyer?”
“I have the occasional get-together,” he explained modestly. “I’m having one tonight actually, if you want to stop by.”
“Maybe I will.”
“Lovely. This is quite the van. If you were offering me candy, I might be worried.”
She laughed and flung open the side door.
“Here it is,” she said.
Hayden looked inside, dumbfounded. Televisions, computer screens, and camera equipment lined the entire interior of the van.
“Do you work in television?” he asked conversationally, eyeing her again.
“I do. Working my way up to be a reporter.” She lightly scratched the skin above her cleavage. “The television is right over there. I’ll get the other side.”
She climbed into the van, pausing just for a moment as she bent to get through the door. Hayden grinned and followed her.
Suddenly, two very strong hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him in.
> “What the…” Hayden shouted, and then one of the hands clasped tightly over his mouth. The door slammed shut.
Hayden heard duct tape being pulled off the roll, and then the woman stuck it over his mouth. He struggled for a moment and briefly caught a glimpse of a large man before he felt both his hands being tied behind his back. Then he was twisted around and lain on the floor. The metal felt very cold against his bare skin.
“The boss said he wants him sedated anyway,” the woman said.
These have to be cops, Hayden realized in alarm. I’m getting busted for all the skipping! He’d had no idea it was this serious. Hayden tried to say, “I know my rights,” but he couldn’t move his lips against the tape.
He felt a sharp prick in his arm.
I should have told them I was going back, he thought sleepily, and then closed his eyes.
4
EMILY SAT IN HER BEDROOM, HUNCHED OVER THE COMPUTER. Her fingers flew over the keyboard in a near blur, and lines of code scrolled across the screen. She was almost in.
Emily’s bedroom was entirely black: the walls, the furniture, the carpet. Even the blinds had been taped to the window frame so that the morning sun couldn’t sneak in along the edges. The only decorations were two framed photographs on her desk. One was of Emily and her grandfather, standing in the field behind his house with butterfly nets over their shoulders. The second was of a young girl sitting with her parents, all wearing happy smiles. She’d cut that one out of a magazine.
Emily matched her room in many ways. She always wore plain black clothes, but not to make any sort of political or emotional statement. Emily just liked black. Her raven hair blended into her outfit, creating a sharp contrast with her pallid skin. The kids at school called her “emo,” but Emily still failed to see how a color choice could indicate a social categorization. She would have preferred to be called “nerd” if she’d had a choice of baseless stereotypes, but she was pretty much stuck with the label.
“Come on,” she whispered as she broke through a sixth firewall.
Emily’s computer screen abruptly shifted to a navy blue. She almost shouted in excitement but managed to rein it in. Her parents were fairly heavy sleepers, but the rare times Emily had woken them up, they had not been pleased.