“Just the painting.”
He snorts. “Oh, right. Just that. No problem. That’s— Crap!” A whole group of zombies closes in on us, so we’re trapped in a dead-end alleyway.
I can only remember one combo, and I can’t seem to make it work. Then my ax breaks, and there isn’t anything else to pick up and fight with, so I start mashing all the punching and kicking buttons.
We both lean forward in real life as we attack, as if that will help somehow. Once we defeat the group of zombies and escape the alley, we both exhale in relief.
“Anyway,” I tell Riley, “Frank is seriously off the grid, according to Grandpa. And not someone we want to go up against.”
“We can’t fail this class, X. I’m still on probation for my scholarship, and you’re… well, you know.”
“Thanks, Perkins.”
“You know what I mean. You missed two weeks of school this semester, and I know your grades haven’t completely recovered from it. And Mrs. Deeds would love any excuse to fail you. And what’s the point of you passing that flying test if you’re going to still get held back? Fieldwork classes are required, so—”
“I get it.” I pick up a crowbar off the ground and smash a zombie with it. “Wait, you actually believe I’m going to pass the flying test?”
“You said you— X! Behind you!”
“I know! I see it! I’m just not used to this weapon.” I end up dropping the crowbar and punching the zombie instead. Which doesn’t make a lot of sense, since the game makes a big point of the zombies bleeding all over every time they get hit. It sounds like a good way to contract zombie-ism, if you ask me.
Riley uses a sword to slice another zombie headed my way. “You said you were going to pass.”
“And I thought you didn’t believe me.”
“Well… that’s beside the point. You have to be there next year, and that means not flunking a required class.”
“We’re not going to flunk. Grandpa told me the time and location of Frank’s next robbery.”
“He what?” Riley turns to look at me.
“Watch out!”
He focuses on the screen again and attacks more zombies. His sword breaks. “How does he know?”
“Frank put a message out and hired some guys to do it. I figure all we have to do is be there when the robbery goes down and follow them to see where they put the stolen goods.”
“Oh, is that all?”
“Shut up. It’s a good plan.”
“I don’t know, X. It involves, what, just watching them steal stuff and not stopping them?” His eyebrows come together, worried.
“Yeah, but… I don’t know how else to find that painting. And we’ll know where they put the stuff they take, so the gallery will get it back.”
“I don’t”—he pauses to fend off an attack—“I don’t like this.”
“You want the truth? Or you want me to tell you something inspirational?”
He considers it. “The truth.”
I shrug. “I don’t like it, either.”
“I changed my mind. I want inspirational.”
“The thing is— Is that where we’re supposed to go?” I’m talking about the game. The sun suddenly went down, and there’s creepy fog everywhere with some ominous streetlights leading us off the road and onto some path through the forest.
“Yeah, we made it through town. This is the farthest I’ve been. Me and Zach played on Saturday, but then we had to stop and get ready for Prom.”
“Okay, creepy forest path it is. And anyway, the thing is, we don’t have a choice.”
“That’s not inspirational.”
“Because fieldwork is supposed to be who we are. And we owe it to ourselves to find out if that’s still true.”
“By confronting some guy who doesn’t exist but who will probably kill us? Hey, did you see something move?”
“The bushes twitched.” And everything’s gone really quiet, except for the occasional creaking sound. “It’s just trying to scare us.”
“Well, it’s working. I should have saved my sword for later. I thought I’d find something else.”
“We’re not confronting Frank. We’re following some hired goons to, like, a storage facility. Probably.”
“What if they take everything to his house?”
“Then he’d have to kill them. Why would anyone ever work for him if he just kills them? That seems like bad business. And we’ll be, like, skulking. The whole point is for them to not know we’re there.”
“But if they catch us—”
“They won’t.”
“We could ask Mrs. Deeds for a new assignment. We could tell her this one’s too dangerous.”
I scoff. “She already thinks I don’t deserve to be there. I can’t let her think she’s right.” And more importantly, I can’t let myself think that. “And we’ve never backed down before.”
“True, and I kind of like that about us, but I also like being alive. Plus, that was before the gala, and… Ugh, this place is so creepy.” The forest path we’re on keeps getting bloodier and bloodier, even though we still haven’t seen anyone, and now there’s a red mist in the air along with the fog. The ground starts rumbling. It sounds far off, but like it’s getting closer.
“Perkins, you know why we have to do this.”
“Yeah, I do. But I still don’t like it.”
“We’ll be careful. And if I have to zap someone to save our lives, we’ll say you were looking the other way this time.”
He laughs, but only a little. “And if we find out that we’re not who we thought we were?”
“Then we’ll know. And other than completely ruining our lives, what’s the worst that could happen?”
I say that right as the rumbling in the game stops and a giant worm bursts up from the ground beneath our characters and swallows them whole.
Chapter 20
“DAD, CAN I ASK you something?” Me and Gordon are in the car later that night, on our way home after running to the store. Well, after running to two stores, since the first one was sold out of the brand of chips Amelia has to have.
“Sure, son. Oh, hey, you know where we are?” His face lights up.
I glance out the window, but I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Leaving the grocery store?”
“We’re near the Super Freeze. It’s an ice cream place—”
“I know what a Super Freeze is.”
“Right, well, it’s a little out of our way, but…” He stops at a red light and glances over at me. “They can put anything into a milkshake there. Candy, pie, cake. I know you’ll love it. My father and I used to go there together. Usually only on special occasions, like on my first day of Heroesworth. And when I made the flying team. And when I made captain—”
“Uh, Dad? It’s not my first day of school. And I haven’t done any of that other stuff.”
He laughs. “It doesn’t have to be a special occasion. Besides, I haven’t been there in years.”
“Your dad’s a complete and total douche, and he really, really hates me.”
Gordon squirms behind the wheel. “Damien, that’s not… Your grandfather doesn’t…”
“Yes, he does. But the feeling’s mutual, so whatever. My point is, I don’t know why you’d have good memories of spending time with him.”
“He was never like that with me. You only saw one side of him, of everyone in my family. They’re not normally like that.”
“To you, maybe.”
“I know. And I was really disappointed with them at the Christmas party.”
“Disappointed?”
“Disgusted,” he says, quietly, like he’s ashamed to admit it even with no one else around.
“Your dad would probably hate the fact that you want to carry on your traditions with me.”
He smiles a little. “He probably would. But this isn’t about him.”
“Really? Because you’re totally within your rights if you want to, like, send him selfies of us enjoying
ice cream together at his favorite place.”
Gordon laughs. “We went there because it was my favorite place. And I just want to share it with you. And have ice cream with pieces of banana cream pie in it.”
“They have that?”
“They certainly do.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
“We’re already on our way.” It starts sprinkling outside. He turns on the windshield wipers, but it’s not raining hard enough, and every other swipe makes a sound that’s half squeak, half screech. “So, what was it you wanted to ask me?”
“Nothing.” The word comes out automatically, before I can think about it. “I mean, it wasn’t important.”
“Okay, well, if you—”
“I need you to teach me how to fly.” I blurt all that out all at once, despite what I just said about it not being important. Then I sink down in my seat and stare out the window, not wanting to see his reaction.
“Damien. That’s… that’s wonderful!”
Oh, great. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal? I’ve been going over this in my mind ever since you told me about that flying test. Of course I’ve wanted to teach you for a lot longer than that, but you made it clear you had no interest in using your flying power. I hoped that might change, on account of the test, but I didn’t want to push you. Not after what happened last time.”
“Geez. If I’d known you were going to be this excited about it, I wouldn’t have asked you while you were driving. You want to pull over or something?”
“Damien, I’m fine. This is good news.”
For him, maybe.
“We’re going to need to get going right away for you to pass your test. We can start tomorrow. Or tonight. How about as soon as we get home?”
My chest gets a little tight. I really thought I’d have more time. I mean, tonight? Is he serious? “I can’t. Homework.”
“Well, tomorrow, then. Hey, I think we can squeeze in a lesson before school. And you know what? You’re going to be flying down those stairs before you know it. Think how much time that’ll save you in the mornings.”
Flying down the stairs. And he says it like it’s no big deal, like even if it won’t happen tomorrow—because, you know, that would be a miracle—by the next day it should be no problem. I feel like I’m going to be sick. I put my hands over my eyes and take a deep breath.
“Don’t worry,” Gordon says. “Your training won’t involve any tall buildings this time.”
“Does that mean it’s going to involve short buildings?” How about no buildings? Or stairs? Or leaving the ground?
“We’ll start off easy. Ceiling circles, stair swooping, skyscraper races—”
“What the hell are skyscraper races?”
He grins. “We race each other to the top of a skyscraper. Me and my brothers used to play that one all the time. But we can work our way up to it, start with something smaller.”
“I think you and me played race to the bottom of a skyscraper.”
His smile fades. “If there are other exercises you’d rather do—”
“It’s fine.” It’s not fine. But I don’t know any other exercises—I don’t even know these ones—and I said I was going to do this. I’m not getting left behind, and I’m not letting Mom completely mess me up. All I have to do is pass the test, and then I never have to fly again. What’s a few skyscraper races and stair swoopings?
Okay, even imagining it makes me feel like the floor is falling out from under me. I don’t know why I thought I could do this. I can’t even get through a conversation about it without freaking out.
Gordon’s hand on my shoulder makes me jump. He frowns. “We’re here. You want to go inside or go through the drive-thru?”
“Whatever you want. I don’t— I’m not hungry.”
“Oh.” He sounds hurt by that. “Maybe we should just go home, after all. It was silly.”
“No, you should get your ice cream. You said you haven’t had it in years.”
“That wasn’t really the point.” He looks over at me, all serious. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“Give mine to Amelia. Or Alex—Amelia will make you listen to her spiel on why she’s never dating anyone again.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“You’re being really hard on yourself about this whole ice cream thing.”
“Damien. I was trying to say that maybe… Maybe I shouldn’t be the one to teach you how to fly.”
“Wait, what?!” I sit up in my seat. “But it’s, like, your lifelong dream. And I need you to. And— Did I do something wrong?”
“No. You didn’t do anything, but I don’t think I should teach you. You obviously don’t want me to.”
“I just asked you to, didn’t I?”
“And then you got weird about it.” His eyes meet mine, pleading with me, though I don’t know what for. “You have a problem with heights.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
“Whereas flying’s always come easily to me.”
“Good for you?” Is he trying to rub it in?
“No, that’s… I’ve never taught anyone before, and…” He shakes his head. “Listen, Damien, it’s taken us a long time to get where we are. I don’t want to ruin that.”
“You won’t.”
He gives me a stern look. “A few minutes ago, you seemed fine. Then we started talking about flying, and I watched you become more and more panicked.”
“You were supposed to be watching the road.”
“I was, but anyone could see how uncomfortable you were. Maybe a year ago, I wouldn’t have noticed. Or I would have, but I would have pretended it was alright, because I wanted it to be. But it’s not.”
“You can’t do this. I need you to teach me. Nothing’s going to get ruined—that’s ridiculous.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I wish I could believe that, but you still haven’t forgiven me for what happened last time.”
When he pushed me off the tallest building in Golden City, he means. “What? I… I mean, it’s not like you’d do that again. You even said, no tall buildings.”
“No, I won’t do that again.”
“You didn’t know I was afraid of heights.”
“But it’s no excuse. I should have seen that you weren’t ready. But I wouldn’t listen to you, and now you’re still not over it.”
“It’s hard to forget something like that, that’s all.”
“I’m not the right person to teach you how to fly.”
I stare at him. And as much as I was dreading his flying lessons, the thought of him not teaching me, of just abandoning me like this, is terrifying. “You can’t do that! I’ll fail first year. Is that really what you want?”
“Of course not.” He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his palms to his forehead. “But even more than that, I don’t want you to end up hating me.”
Chapter 21
I’M SITTING AT THE kitchen table, eating breakfast the next morning, but I hardly taste anything. I think I got maybe four hours of sleep last night, tops. My mind just kept spinning, going over and over again how Gordon’s not going to teach me how to fly, and how that was really my only plan, and how I have no idea what I’m going to do now.
Fail Heroesworth, probably, and then watch all my friends graduate without me and go on to get really cool jobs that I’m not qualified for. Not that I can think of any heroes who have what I’d call cool jobs, but I’m sure Kat will have one. And then I’ll just be her loser boyfriend who couldn’t cut it as a villain or a hero, despite how much I made fun of them, and who’ll probably end up working at one of those superhero-themed diners, but only because my dad’s the Crimson Flash and everyone knows I’m his screwup son and there’s a chance customers might want to take pictures with me. And who knows how long that will last? Probably only until the novelty wears off, and then I’ll be completely unqualified for anything.
And maybe it doesn’t matter anyway b
ecause maybe I don’t even want to be doing fieldwork. And graduating from Heroesworth doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll have any kind of future, either, because I’m not joining the League or any other stupid hero groups. But I don’t want to be left behind. So I think what that really means is that I need to convince Riley to drop out.
It won’t be easy, because he’s pretty set on the whole not failing thing, but getting him to drop out still sounds easier than me magically learning how to fly. Then I just have to convince Kat and Sarah not to do anything with their lives, either. I mean, Sarah could graduate high school in her sleep, so I don’t see much point in her dropping out. But does she really need to go to college? And Kat—
“Hello?” Alex says, waving a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Damien. Did you hear me?”
I blink. “What?”
“Do you want my last pancake?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Well, I’m not eating it,” Amelia says, even though no one asked her. “I’m too heartbroken to eat. I’m probably going to waste away.”
“You had, like, five pancakes.”
“Four. More like three and a half.”
“That’s not exactly wasting away.”
“What were you thinking about so hard?” Alex asks me.
“Sabotaging my friends’ futures.” No big deal.
He looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or not.
Amelia clears her throat. “So. You went over to Riley’s yesterday, right?”
“Amelia.”
“What? You did, didn’t you?”
“If you want to know about Zach, then just talk to him.”
“I don’t want to know about Zach. I left a sweatshirt at his house, that’s all.”
I hold up my hand, miming her using her power to call it up.
Her face goes a little pink, and she stares down at the table. “Fine. But all I want to know is—”
She shuts up as Helen comes in from the living room. Jess follows and comes over to the table. She sizes up the situation, sees that Amelia’s in the chair closest to mine, and tells her, “Move.”
“Jess,” Helen scolds. “What did we talk about?”
“Please,” Jess adds in her most grudging voice, not sounding at all like she means it.
The Phobia of Renegade X Page 14