The Vindico

by King, Wesley

  James pictured himself wearing the famous navy-blue uniform of the League of Heroes, the golden symbol emblazoned on his chest. James Renwick: Superhero.

  He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

  11

  SAM WOKE THAT NIGHT TO THE SOUND OF CRYING. HE BLINKED a few times, trying to remember where he was. It all came rushing back, and he fearfully pulled the blanket up to his chin. The shadows in the room seemed to darken.

  Right before falling asleep, Sam had desperately wished that he would wake up at home. This entire experience would be nothing more than a bad dream, and today, he would eat breakfast, give his mother a hug, and go to school. Instead, here he was, lying in the darkness, and only Sliver was waiting for him.

  Another muffled sob cut through the air. Despite his better judgment, Sam couldn’t leave someone crying by themselves. It was his duty to see if they needed help.

  He slid out from under the covers and pulled his jeans on. The air was cool, and he felt goose bumps trail up his skin.

  Sam gently opened his bedroom door and stepped into the hallway. He noticed light peering out from under one of the other bedroom doors. Lana’s. Poor girl, Sam thought. He couldn’t imagine how he would have felt receiving the same news.

  Sam lightly knocked on her door. “Lana,” he whispered. “It’s Sam. Can I come in?”

  The sobs choked off a little. “No. Sorry if I woke you.”

  “I can’t sleep,” Sam said. “I’m coming in.”

  He heard Lana sniffle and took that as an okay. Sam pushed open the door and found her sitting against the headboard, arms wrapped around her legs.

  “Hey,” Sam said, closing the door behind him.

  “Hey.” She wiped her eyes and rubbed the tears off on her pant leg. “I’m a mess.”

  Sam shook his head. “No, you’re not,” he assured her, and sat down on the end of the bed. “Are you okay?”

  Her eyes started to water again, and she looked away.

  “Not really. It’s just…I just don’t know what to believe. Is my dad really having an affair? I mean, why would they tell me that? My mom, she doesn’t deserve that. And what if they’re just lying to make me mad or something? But the thing is, I somehow could picture him doing it…”

  She choked out another sob and hugged herself even tighter.

  Sam looked at her for a moment, trying to choose the right words. “You shouldn’t believe it,” he said at last. “Because they could have lied, and you won’t be able to know until you get out of here anyway. So you’ll just beat yourself up over it.”

  That sounded pretty good, Sam thought. He sometimes watched Saturday morning talk shows with his mother.

  “I know,” Lana mumbled, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. But why would they lie? To make me stay up all night crying? These people, they’re sick. You heard how much he enjoyed telling me.”

  Sam thought back to his meeting with Sliver. The first thing Sam had asked was why Sliver had chosen him, to which his mentor harshly replied, “I had no choice.”

  Then a little voice began to prod around in his head, whispering half-formed words and merging with Sam’s own thoughts. Sam didn’t understand what was happening at first, but it had suddenly felt normal to have a discussion with only his mind, and he’d told the voice to leave him alone. At that point Sliver had given him a furious glare and told him to go back to the common room.

  “They are very strange,” Sam agreed, frowning.

  Lana wiped her eyes again. “How long do you think we’ll be here?”

  “I don’t know…hopefully not much longer. Sliver wouldn’t really tell me anything.”

  “When I get out, I’m going to have a talk with my dad,” Lana whispered. Sam noticed the deep-seated anger in her eyes, and it struck him that maybe the Villains had given her the announcement for exactly that reason. They wanted her angry.

  “Lana, can we be friends in here?” Sam asked. “I like having someone to talk to.”

  She smiled. “I’d like that. And thanks.”

  “No problem. Let me know if you need anything.”

  Sam went back to his room, feeling much better himself. He already had one more friend in here than he did at home.

  “I really hate that kid,” Sliver muttered to himself from inside the control room, where he had been listening in on Sam and Lana’s discussion.

  He’d been sitting there for a few hours now, thinking about his first interview with his protégé. The boy was strangely adept, even more than Sliver had gathered from the stolen League file. With proper training, he would prove to be a valuable ally. But how could he best use Sam’s abilities? Could the boy help him deal with the others?

  It annoyed Sliver that he had to deal with such things.

  In the two years since the Night of Ashes, he had been living a life of leisure.

  A few weeks after the murders, Sliver had walked into a bank and mentally coerced a high-level executive to transfer twenty million dollars into his account. With it, he’d bought himself a massive yacht and spent the past two years in the lower Caribbean, using his powers to erase the memories of everyone he met. He was like a ghost, and he’d loved every second of it.

  But his time away had become a source of heated contention between him and his former mentor, Leni, who’d spent those years plotting against the League and building up his private organization. He wanted Sliver to spend every waking moment pursuing the League’s destruction.

  Sliver was tired of Leni’s lectures, tired of this whole war. Soon, things would change. Leni wanted more ambition from him, and he would get it.

  Rono wandered into the room, interrupting Sliver’s thoughts. He started inspecting the control panels.

  “We literally control everything from here,” Rono said, testing a switch. “Each room’s temperature, how hard the bed is, the lights, you can even start water dripping from the ceiling. The Torturer is going to do cartwheels when we show him this.”

  The control room was the second step of the Baron’s psychological program. The announcements would attack them emotionally, while their rooms wore them down physically, until they became weak and malleable. Sleep deprivation was an important part of the plan. They were supposed to let the kids have the first night as a reprieve, just to give them a false sense of security, and then the torture would begin.

  Sliver glanced at Rono. “Let’s test it out. Turn James’s heat up.”

  “Done.” Rono turned two dials, his eyes tracking a small readout. A sleeping James was visible on the camera feed in front of them.

  “How long until he wakes up, you think?” Sliver asked, watching the feed.

  “Five minutes. Shall we have a bet?”

  “Definitely. I say ten minutes. Closest wins.”

  They both eagerly watched the screen.

  “How about if we…” Sliver started. “Crap!”

  On-screen, James had already begun to toss and turn. “How hot did you make it?”

  Rono gave him a sly smile. “I turned it up by about twenty degrees.”

  “Well, I didn’t know you were going to melt the kid,” Sliver complained.

  “Should have verified the conditions.”

  James was fully rolling around now, and he kicked the blanket right off the bed.

  “Heats up fast,” Sliver said. “This is gonna be fun.”

  They both chuckled and leaned back in their chairs. Sliver liked Rono, but he doubted he could save him. If he was going to get a pardon from the League, he had to deal with the entire group. No exceptions. And Sliver couldn’t risk having them imprisoned. If they ever broke out, they would come for him first.

  There was only one way to end this war: the Vindico had to die. The kids would just have to hope they weren’t members before it happened.

  12

  A SHRILL BEEPING SPLIT THROUGH THE AIR, AND EMILY JOLTED awake. Jumping out of bed, she threw on her clothes and hurried into the commo
n area. James was laying facedown on the couch, wearing only his red boxers. His pale skin contrasted sharply with the couch’s dark leather.

  “Stop the noise,” he moaned. “Please stop the noise.”

  “I think it’s a wake-up call,” Emily said. “Speaking of which, why are you sleeping naked in the living room?”

  “I’m not naked,” he muttered. “It was too hot in my room. I don’t know how any of you slept.”

  Emily frowned. “My room wasn’t hot.”

  “Neither was mine,” Hayden said, strolling past them on his way to the bathroom. “I had a great sleep.”

  “What?” James said, looking up. There were heavy bags under his eyes. “So I got stuck with the crap room?”

  “I think they’re all the same,” Emily said. “Maybe you have a fever?”

  “That makes me feel better,” James replied, shuffling toward his room. He had just rounded the corner when the alarm stopped. “Oh, now it stops.”

  “Attention,” a low voice announced. “Breakfast will be served now. At its conclusion, you will have twenty minutes to be ready for our first group session. At that time the door will open, and I will lead you to the location of the session. You have approximately thirty-five minutes, starting now.”

  The panel on the far wall slid open, and Emily spotted plates full of eggs, bacon, and toast. Her stomach grumbled in anticipation, and she hurried over as the others filed into the common room.

  “Do I smell bacon?” Hayden said as he came running from the bathroom.

  Beside one of the plates, they found a folded white T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and some socks.

  “I think these are for you,” Lana said to Hayden.

  “No thanks,” he said. “I’m liking this no clothes thing. I was debating even wearing these boxers today.” Everyone just stared at him, and he sighed. “Fine.”

  He reluctantly pulled them on and sat down.

  “What do you think we’re gonna do today?” Sam asked, pausing between bites.

  “No idea,” Hayden said. “Judging by my mentor…probably get beaten with a strip of leather.”

  Sam lowered his fork. “You think?”

  “No,” Lana said, shooting Hayden a dirty look. Her eyes were slightly swollen from crying all night. She finished her breakfast and put the empty plate on the table. “How are we all supposed to shower in twenty minutes?”

  “We better pair up,” Hayden suggested. “Should we draw straws to see who goes with me?”

  James glared at him.

  “Really, though, who wants one before we go?” Lana asked. “They do at least have shampoo and deodorant and everything else.”

  “James looks like he could use a shower,” Emily said.

  “Yeah,” Lana remarked. “And I’d like one too. James, you can go first.”

  Hayden leaned forward. “You know, if you went at the same time, you could have twice as long a shower.”

  “Shut up,” Lana and James both said at once.

  Hayden shrugged. “Just doing the math. I tried, James.”

  James shook his head and started for the bathroom.

  Exactly thirty-five minutes after the announcement about breakfast, the mirror door swung open. Emily led them through the doorway, stopping short in front of the caped man on the other side. The room was dark, and he looked like a living shadow.

  “Today is your first group session,” he told them, “which will supplement your individual training. You do not speak unless I ask you to. Not to me, not to each other. If you do, there will be consequences. I am not a patient man.” He let the threat of his words hang in the air. “Follow me.”

  With that, Leni strode into the hallway, his cape billowing behind him. He led them into a small classroom and gestured at five desks that had been laid out.

  “Sit,” he commanded, and walked to the front of the room. A blank chalkboard hung behind him, but the rest of the walls were bare, and there were no pens or paper on the desks.

  The protégés quickly found a seat.

  “Today’s lesson will be a short one,” Leni said, beginning to pace. “You will listen carefully and then proceed back to your quarters. I won’t get into the history of this society, nor the full reasons behind our war with the League. The Baron is the historian, and he will explain all of that when the time comes. But for now, know this: the Vindico was created by the League of Heroes.”

  Lana and Sam exchanged confused glances. James looked openly dubious.

  “I will speak to you of one important point of contention: the source of supernatural abilities.”

  He extended one of his gloved hands, and their chairs suddenly floated upward. Hayden watched in amazement as his feet left the ground and saw that the others were grabbing at their seats, trying to hold on.

  “There are three competing theories to explain how and why these abilities naturally manifest themselves. The first is called the environmental mutation theorem, which speculates that human-made changes to the atmosphere, specifically radiation, are altering genomes. The second is the evolution theorem, which cites that humans were always meant to develop these ‘superpowers’ and that in time, all humans will possess them. But it is the last theory that is the greatest cause of debate, the one held by the League of Heroes. Their belief is that supernatural abilities are not chosen at random, but rather, that they were purposefully selected by destiny to become members. It is their sacred mantra: the choice of fate.”

  Their chairs dropped back to the ground.

  “Of course,” Leni continued, pacing again, “this means that the artificial granting of superpowers cannot exist. And for thirty-five years, the League has fought desperately to hide the truth. They have murdered, lied, and covered up any evidence disproving their theory. And it is for that reason they’ve worked so hard to hide the identities of the Vindico. Why? First, because some of us are living proof that artificial superpowers do exist. Second, because each of us represents a hidden secret from the League’s past. And third, because some of us are former members.”

  James raised his hand. “If you were members of the League, why have we never heard of you?” James asked. “And why don’t they want people to know about artificial superpowers?”

  “You’ve never heard of us because we served the League under different names,” Leni replied simply. “Any photos have long been wiped from the records. And they don’t want you to know about artificial superpowers because they don’t want to share their influence. If people think they were ‘chosen by fate,’ then they will have the sole right to determine justice in the world. The problem is that their organization is corrupt, arrogant, and ineffective. They spend more time consolidating and protecting their power than helping those in need.”

  He stopped pacing and pointed a gloved finger at Hayden, whose chair began to shake.

  “They don’t want you to have these abilities. When they find out you have them, they will sentence you to life on the Perch or death,” he said, walking toward Hayden. “I have been to that barren, snow-blasted island; I have seen the metal prison perched atop its cliffs. I assure you, death would be better. But the Vindico believes that you deserve a different life: one of purpose. We believe that the League of Heroes must be replaced and that we, along with our protégés, should be the ones to do it. You have a simple choice in front of you. Do you want to live a normal life, or do you want to be something special?”

  Hayden’s chair abruptly stopped shaking.

  “That will be all for today. Go back to your quarters,” Leni said. “Hayden, stay behind. And if any of you are thinking about veering from the course, I don’t recommend it. You don’t want me to have to come fetch you.”

  Everyone hastily filed out, and he looked down at his protégé. Hayden fidgeted nervously under Leni’s gaze.

  “Tonight we will have our first one-on-one session,” Leni said. “You will pay attention to everything I say. You will hang on my every word, or I will replace you without
a thought. I do not like to repeat warnings.”

  “Okay,” Hayden mumbled, feeling like every muscle in his body had frozen.

  “Good. Now go.”

  Hayden hurried out of the classroom and leaned against the wall, shaken by Leni’s words. He jumped when he saw a tall, black marble statue of a dragon standing beside him, its mouth opened wide, as if preparing to bite. Hayden stared at its razor-sharp fangs and considered his options. Right now, there were only two: stay here or escape.

  The latter was dangerous, but Hayden didn’t like being threatened, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Leni might actually kill him before the training was over. It was time to get out of here. He felt guilty about leaving the others, but if he escaped, he could always send the League back for them.

  Taking a last look down the hallway, where his fellow protégés had already gone through the control room door, Hayden turned and started running in the opposite direction. His eyes darted from one closed doorway to the next; he expected someone to burst forth at any moment. Even the statues seemed poised to attack. But he made it down the hallway without incident and emerged into a magnificent lobby.

  A massive chandelier hung from the domed, golden ceiling, and winding staircases curled around both walls, leading to second and third levels. White marble tiles covered the floor, gleaming in the sunlight that poured in from a pair of three-story windows. Hayden spotted the front entrance between them and sprinted out the door.

  He found himself on a half-circle stone patio looking out onto a seemingly endless front yard. A driveway looped in front of the patio, but it trailed off into the distance, and he couldn’t see its end. Even worse, a thick wall of trees wrapped around the entire property.

  “Crap,” he muttered.

  Hayden took off along the mansion wall, aiming for the forest. He saw someone hunched over a flower bed, gardening, so he ducked behind a line of sculpted hedges and kept running.

  Hayden was already tired by the time he reached the edge of the mansion, but he knew he couldn’t slow down. He ran across the last stretch of property and plunged into the forest. The trees were dense, and Hayden weaved around them, slapping the branches out of his face as he went. He missed one and felt it slice across his cheek.