The Phobia of Renegade X

by Chelsea M. Campbell

  Helen sighs. “Damien, sit down.”

  I sit. I wonder if she’d notice if I got out my phone and started texting Riley. Just to tell him I’m not going to make it, what with him and Sarah waiting for me and all. “Is this about the car? Or about me dropping out of school? Because you didn’t see the look in Ted’s eyes when—”

  “This is about my statue.”

  “Oh.” I swallow. A guilty feeling squirms in my stomach. “I never meant for it to get taken down. For any of them to.” I never meant for a lot of things.

  “You’re not in trouble.”

  “Riiiight.” So why am I getting a lecture?

  She frowns at me. “I don’t blame you for what happened. And I just wanted to say…” She glances over her shoulder, toward her bedroom door, like she doesn’t want anyone to hear this. Not even Gordon. She keeps her voice low. “I’m not upset about the statue.”

  “That’s what you wanted to say?”

  “No, I… The truth is, Damien, I’m kind of relieved.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I did terrible things to earn that statue. I know I saved lives by taking out Bart the Blacksmith, but I still killed him. And others. And they were all sanctioned by the League, and I was always following orders, but…” She looks down at her hands. “I’m the one who committed those acts, and I’m the one who has to live with them. I don’t regret any of it. I always did what I believed was right, and I’m proud of that. But celebrating the fact that I’ve killed people has never sat well with me.”

  She looks over, like she’s expecting me to give her a medal for how awful she feels about killing villains. “Yeah, right.”

  “What?”

  “Come on. I’ve heard how you talk about Bart the Blacksmith—how you talk about Kat because of him. And yeah, he was pretty bad, and you probably did the world a favor by murdering him”—she flinches at that—“but don’t pretend you’re upset about it.”

  “It’s complicated. More complicated than just being upset or not. Yes, I’m glad I killed him, I’m happy to have made the sacrifices that I did so my friends could get away and so he couldn’t hurt anyone else, but that doesn’t mean I ever deserved a statue for it.” She exhales. “I don’t think I’ve ever said that out loud before.”

  “But you’re telling me? Why? So I can forgive you on behalf of all villains?”

  “I don’t want forgiveness, from you or from anyone else. I’m just trying to say that I understand what it’s like to have to make the hard choices. Especially out in the field.”

  “Okay.”

  “I know why you’re quitting school, and it’s not because of that flying test.”

  “So this is a stay-in-school lecture?”

  “It’s not a lecture. And no, it’s not about staying in school. Gordon’s never had to…” She glances over at their bedroom door again. “He’s never had to make those kinds of decisions in the field. He chased a few bad guys around when he first joined the League, but they weren’t life-or-death situations. So what I’m trying to say is, he might not understand what’s going on with you, but I get it. Ever since that gala—”

  “No one died. It wasn’t life or death.” I don’t look at her when I say that.

  “A lot of people could have died. Including the people close to you.”

  “But they didn’t. And Riley’s better now. His leg is, I mean. The gala was months ago, and everyone’s okay.”

  “Not everyone.”

  “I… I’m fine.”

  “But you’re dropping out of school. A place you worked really hard to be.”

  “I’m dropping out because of the flying test. And I don’t know if I’m dropping out. Not yet.”

  “And I want you to know that if you do decide to, I understand.”

  “You… what?”

  She pats my knee. “I don’t regret the things I’ve done, but there are some days—maybe a lot of days—when I wish I’d never joined the League. I wish I’d never gotten involved with Special Ops. I made the world a better place, but I made myself worse, and… I know you’re not planning to join the League. You never were, and after everything that’s happened, I don’t see how anyone could expect you to. But you’re still on a path, and if you decide that you don’t like where it leads and that you want to change directions, I get that.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ve never told Gordon any of this. How I feel—felt—about that statue, or about my time in the League. But I’m telling you because you have to make whatever decision is right for you, and if he doesn’t agree with that decision, I just want you to know that I’m here for you. That I get it.”

  “You think I should drop out?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you think this path I’m headed on is going to ruin me.”

  “What happened at the gala hit you pretty hard. Anyone can see that. And you’re always going to have friends and family on both sides of this—hero and villain. Someone you care about is always going to get hurt.”

  “So I shouldn’t even bother trying to protect them?”

  “You should protect yourself.”

  I lean back into the couch cushion, taking that in. “That’s pretty much the worst advice I’ve ever heard.”

  She laughs a little, then sighs. “I wouldn’t have listened, either, when I was your age. But maybe that’s a good thing. If kids listened to their elders, the world would be full of people who never try. Just promise me you’ll think it over. And that you’ll be careful on your mission tonight.”

  “On my mission? I thought I was busted.”

  “For what? Leaving the house on a Saturday night? Besides, you haven’t done any fieldwork since the gala. It’s good to see you getting back to something you love.” She says that wistfully, like she still misses it, too, despite the spiel she just gave me.

  And if I don’t love it anymore? If I’m dreading going out there tonight, and every part of me is screaming that this is a bad idea? What then?

  I almost ask her, because I think she might actually get it. But she might also tell me that feeling like this means I’m doomed, and that I really am on the wrong path and should just give up now, and I don’t think I can take hearing that. Especially not from someone who’s been through way worse and who might actually be right.

  So I don’t say anything about it. I just tell her I’ll be careful, and then I get out of there.

  Chapter 8

  I MEET SARAH AND Riley at the train station downtown. Sarah’s staring at her phone, and Riley’s leaning against the balcony railing, watching trains come in on the lower level. Or at least I assume that’s what he’s watching, since I’m not about to go check it out for myself, what with not having a death wish or anything.

  Sarah notices me first. She nudges Riley, then comes over and makes a face. “Why are you wearing that?”

  She means my Renegade X costume. “Because this is a superhero mission?” Last time I showed up not in costume, she gave me crap for it, even though it didn’t actually matter.

  “I told you to come dressed in plain clothes. We’re supposed to be inconspicuous.” She gestures to herself, then behind her to Riley. They both have on jeans and T-shirts, though Sarah also has tinfoil wrapped around a lock of her hair, which isn’t exactly what I’d call inconspicuous.

  I look down at my costume. It’s all green and black spandex. “People recognize me all the time even when I’m dressed normal. How am I supposed to be inconspicuous? And anyway, we’re downtown. Maybe no one will notice.” It’s not that crowded in here, what with it being almost one in the morning, and nobody’s even looking at us. Well, there might be a couple people looking, like the guy pretending to read the newspaper who keeps glancing over at me when he thinks I won’t notice, or the woman sitting on a bench not that far from us who’s doing pretty much the same thing, except that she’s pretending to look at her phone instead of at the newspaper. But she also looks really bored, especi
ally when she twirls the end of her ponytail around her finger and snaps the gum she’s chewing, so she might not really be watching us.

  “It’s almost time,” Riley says, joining us and checking his phone. “His train should be pulling in.”

  “The bad guy’s a thief,” Sarah tells me. “We’re getting back a ring he stole from his wife. Well, ex-wife, as of last Friday. It was her grandmother’s ring, and she really wants it back. He should have it on him.”

  I wrinkle my forehead. “Sarah, how do you know all this?”

  “His ex-wife told me. I answered an ad. She almost wouldn’t give us the job, because, as she put it, we’re ‘just kids,’ but I told her we had a long track record of taking down bad guys. And getting lost jewelry back. I may have fudged that last part a little bit, but I really wanted her to say yes.”

  I exchange a look with Riley. “A long track record of taking down bad guys? We’ve never even worked together before. All three of us, I mean. And—”

  “We can handle it,” Sarah says. “Riley’s going to—”

  “Secant,” he corrects her.

  “Right. Secant’s going to turn invisible, steal the ring, and all we have to do is be ready, just in case.” She pats her purse, which no doubt has some kind of homemade weapon in it.

  “In case of what?”

  “In case something goes wrong, which it won’t. The target’s never even going to know we were here. But if he does find out, well, his ex-wife said he can get pretty violent. That’s why she’s not going after him herself.”

  “And we’re confronting him? Here? With all these people around?”

  Sarah rolls her eyes at me. “It’s not that many people. And if things get dangerous, just use your lightning. Once you’re all lit up, everyone will run screaming. Problem solved.”

  “Yeah, I’m not doing that.” I hope. I turn to Riley. “And you’re okay with this, Perkins?”

  He opens his mouth, hesitating, then shrugs. “I’ll be invisible. And you guys will be backing me up, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “So there’s no reason not to do it.” He doesn’t sound too convinced about that.

  I don’t blame him. I can think of a lot of reasons not to do this.

  “Everything will be fine,” Sarah says. “The only one in danger here is the target, and he’s not even going to know about it. We’ll get the ring, get the reward money—”

  “Reward money?”

  “Fifty dollars, each. I made the lowest bid.”

  “So she didn’t hire us because of our long track record of taking down bad guys?”

  Sarah ignores that. “We’ll get the reward money, and we’ll feel good about ourselves for a job well done. And then when I tell people we have a history of retrieving stolen jewelry, it’ll actually be true.”

  “You mean,” Riley says, “there are going to be more of these?”

  “Lots more.” Sarah grins at him. “This is just the beginning. I’ve been waiting forever for the three of us to get to work together, and now that we are, we’re going to do a lot of good. Help a lot of people. That’s what Golden City needs right now. The League doesn’t mean what it used to, and it’s up to people like us to step up and make a difference.”

  “And collect reward money,” I add.

  She scowls. “It’s not about the money. I would have said we’d do it for free if I thought she’d still take us seriously. And if I didn’t need a new hard drive. But we’re going to show everyone that just because they can’t trust the League right now, that doesn’t mean there aren’t people out there that they can still rely on. And the three of us are going to be a force to be reckoned with. No bad guys are going to be able to stop us. We’re—”

  “Sarah,” Riley says, jerking his head toward the platform to our left, “isn’t that our target over there?”

  “Oh, crap. You’re right. He’s getting away. Okay, let’s go. You guys know what to do. And remember, Renegade—stay inconspicuous.”

  Nobody looks twice at me in my costume, but it only takes about two seconds for someone official-looking to stop Sarah and ask her what she’s doing. Maybe it’s the way she’s so obviously stalking someone, or the way she keeps putting a hand to the gun in her purse—and okay, I don’t know for sure that it’s a gun, but I’ve known Sarah plenty long enough to know it’s some kind of weapon—but she kind of looks like a terrorist.

  So much for being inconspicuous.

  The train-station security guard who stops her says he just wants to ask her a few questions. She glances meaningfully at me, then over at the bad guy, before letting herself be lead off. I guess to make sure I know I’m supposed to stay here and be Riley’s backup. As if I didn’t already know that, and as if I would volunteer to be hauled off by security. It wouldn’t take long for them to figure out who I was, or for them to call my dad, or for this to all end up in the news tomorrow. Which really wouldn’t help our track record.

  Not that I want us to have a track record, or to be doing this at all, but it’s a little late for that.

  The bad guy stops to check something on his phone.

  I wonder where Riley is and if he saw what happened to Sarah. He’s invisible, hanging out somewhere near our target, but I have no idea how close he is, or if he’s trying to pickpocket the ring right now. Or maybe he’s too busy freaking out about his girlfriend getting hauled in for questioning. Okay, not hauled. They were pretty civil, probably because a sixteen-year-old girl with tinfoil in her hair looks more crazy than criminal.

  There’s another train coming in on the platform closest to us. It shakes the walls, rattling the fancy chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Pieces of glass bang together, and if I didn’t already know that the chandelier had been here for years, I’d think it was about to come down.

  Riley must think it’s actually about to come down, because he turns visible and gapes up at it in horror.

  And suddenly I’m reliving that night at the gala again. I wasn’t even there when the ceiling caved in on him, but I remember what it was like to find him. Flickering in and out of visibility, delirious with pain. And the way he screamed when me and Amelia had to move him.

  My stomach twists. I push the memory away.

  Riley only stays visible for a second, but it’s enough for the bad guy to notice him. Not just to notice him, but to register that he was trying to sneak up on him. He grabs Riley with both hands, dragging him toward him. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

  Riley stays visible, panic washing over him. He opens his mouth a little, but no words come out.

  Sparks run up my spine. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  “Come on! Who sent you? Was it Frank?”

  Riley still doesn’t say anything, frozen in place.

  “Answer me!” The bad guy suddenly hauls him up onto the balcony railing, holding him partway over the edge. “Whoever you’re working for, kid, they’re going to regret this.”

  “Perkins!” My throat goes dry. Lightning crackles across my arms.

  Every instinct I have is telling me to zap this guy, but if I do, he’ll let go. He’ll drop Riley.

  So instead I run toward them—toward the balcony and the ledge and the open space. I reach out a hand, trying to grab Riley before it’s too late, but I’m not fast enough. The bad guy shoves him over the edge.

  He shoves him. And I see it in Riley’s eyes, the flash of realization that he’s going to fall.

  It’s nothing like the gala, and yet it feels the same. I couldn’t save Riley then, so I have to save him now. I don’t hesitate when I get to the railing—I leap over it. Because I can fly. Because in theory I can grab him and slow his fall, even if I can’t stop it.

  But I don’t grab him. Riley’s already falling, and I can’t reach him. Not without flying toward the ground. There’s this moment where I know I could save him if I just sped downward. But I hesitate. I don’t do it. I can’t. And then it’s too late, and I’m watching Ri
ley slam into the floor.

  Chapter 9

  I’M SITTING IN THE driver’s seat of the new-old car the next afternoon. Amelia’s already taken over. She’s put sparkly stickers of flowers and unicorns on the dashboard and set all the radio stations. And I had to move the driver’s seat back before I could even get in, since it was so close to the steering wheel. I’m not going anywhere, I could have just got in the passenger side and not bothered, but I did it anyway.

  The car smells weird. Kind of musty, but also like some kind of cleaner.

  My phone chimes with a new text. I don’t check it. I already know it’s from Kat. She’s texted me a couple times, asking how our mission went yesterday. I’ll call her later. I should call her now, but then I’d have to admit out loud how badly I screwed up, and I’m not ready for that yet.

  I mean, it could have gone worse.

  Riley could have gotten hurt, instead of just getting the wind knocked out of him. It took him a while to get back up, but when he did, he said he was okay. Nothing was broken, though he was obviously freaked out, and I saw him wincing when he put weight on his newly healed leg.

  And Sarah could have gotten arrested, but she explained to the train-station security guards that she was part of a hero group and on a mission. She said that all she was guilty of doing was trying to uphold justice and that she hadn’t done anything wrong. And the weapon she had in her purse looked like a hair straightener—well, a hair straightener that a garage sale threw up on—so the security guards decided to let her off with a warning. I’m not sure what they were warning her not to do—don’t stalk criminals at the train station?—but she wasn’t actually in trouble.

  But I don’t think I’ll ever forget the terrified look on her face when she saw Riley on the ground, with me crouched next to him, trying to make sure he was okay. Or how quickly her look of terror changed to accusation. I was supposed to be backing him up, and it was obvious that I hadn’t.