by TJ Klune
Nick’s phone beeped.
Then Jazz’s.
Then Gibby’s.
The librarian glared at them, but then her phone beeped too, and she frowned down at it.
Nick picked his phone up to see an alert across the screen.
EXTRAORDINARY ACTIVITY IN MIDTOWN. EXPECT DELAYS. AVOID AREA IF POSSIBLE.
“Whoa,” Nick breathed. “Do you think it’s Shadow Star?”
“I don’t know,” Gibby said. “But we should probably stay away since we were told to.”
“Right,” Nick said. “But what if we—”
“No.”
“But we could—”
“No.”
“Maybe just—”
“No.”
Nick glared at Gibby. “You know, when I’m an Extraordinary, I’m going to be able to do whatever I want.”
“And I tremble in fear at the very thought. But until that time comes, you’re still squishy and fragile, and even though you sometimes act like it, you’re not stupid enough to get in the middle of whatever’s going on.”
“I feel like there was a compliment buried under all that somewhere.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Nicky. Now, why don’t you explain to me in great detail Phase Two of your plan. I don’t think I understood it the first time.”
Jazz groaned.
“I’d be happy to,” Nick said, sitting up. “Maybe you should take copious notes just to be safe.”
* * *
Nick was almost home when he got a text from Dad, telling him he’d been called in to work early, and didn’t know when he’d be back. Nick wondered if it had to do with the Extraordinaries, but his dad didn’t respond when he asked.
The porch light was on, even though it was still daylight. Nick was about to put his key in the door when he got another alert. He pulled out his phone.
BREAKING NEWS: SHADOW STAR BATTLING PYRO STORM ABOVE THE STREETS OF NOVA CITY.
Nick stared at his phone, synapses misfiring.
It took him a moment to reboot, and then he nearly broke his key trying to get inside the house. The door banged against the wall as he threw it open, not even bothering to close it behind him. He ran to the living room, picking up the remote to the TV off the coffee table. He almost dropped it but managed to hit the power button. He flipped through the channels until he found the news.
And stared in wonder.
It was a live shot from the Action News chopper. A picture of Rebecca Firestone was in the corner, smiling wide and beautiful. Her voice was speaking over the sound of the helicopter, saying things like I’ve never seen them like this before and They’ve been going at it for the better part of an hour now and Oh my god.
But Nick barely heard her.
Because there they were.
Shadow Star and Pyro Storm.
It was quick and brutal, the camera barely able to keep up with their movements. They were on top of one of the skyscrapers in midtown. Nick thought it was one of the financial buildings. A sharp bloom of fire burst from Pyro Storm, rocketing toward Shadow Star. The hero managed to leap out of the way before he was burned to a crisp, climbing up the large antenna tower effortlessly. His shadow stretched out behind him, and as Nick watched, it reached out and grabbed Pyro Storm around the ankles, lifting him up and slamming him back onto the roof, cracking the cement underneath him.
It was vicious in ways Nick hadn’t seen before.
Yes, Pyro Storm was a villain, and yes, he was the archnemesis of Shadow Star, but it was always … not like this. They fought, but it rarely came to an all-out brawl. Pyro Storm would come up with some ridiculous scheme, Shadow Star would swoop in and save the day, and they’d go their separate ways. Hell, there were people who were sure the two were in on it together, that it was done for nothing more than attention. Usually, no one got hurt, no matter how harebrained Pyro Storm’s ideas got.
This was different. It looked like they were trying to hurt each other.
Or, rather, Pyro Storm was trying to hurt Shadow Star. All Shadow Star was doing was reacting. He was on the defensive.
Every time Pyro Storm lashed out, Shadow Star would move away quickly, knocking the villain off his feet again and again. Their mouths were moving like they were shouting at each other, but they were too far away to be heard.
Then Shadow Star turned his head toward the Action News chopper, and the camera zoomed in on his mask-covered face, his mouth the only thing visible.
He smiled.
Nick felt a chill race down his spine.
Pyro Storm brought his hands up and pointed them at Shadow Star. A swirl of fire grew in his hands. Shadow Star moved slowly. A ball of fire shot toward him, and a shadow rose up from the rooftop. It was shredded as the fire burst through it, but it caused the fireball to be deflected toward the helicopter. Rebecca Firestone shouted to pull up pull up pull up as Shadow Star tackled Pyro Storm. The ball of fire went underneath the helicopter, missing it by a few feet, trailing flame and smoke behind it.
Pyro Storm snarled and kicked his feet against Shadow Star’s chest, knocking him dangerously close to the edge of the roof. Before Shadow Star could recover, Pyro Storm swung his arm out in a flat arc, a wave of fire roaring toward Shadow Star and—
Shadow Star fell off the other side of the building.
Nick dropped the remote.
“Oh no,” Rebecca Firestone whispered.
“No,” Nick said. “No, no, no. It’s fine. He’s fine.”
Even Pyro Storm seemed stunned.
He walked slowly toward the edge of the building, his cape billowing around him. Any moment now, Nick knew with all his might that Shadow Star would reappear and everything would be fine. He hadn’t fallen, because he was a hero and heroes never fell.
“Come on,” Nick muttered. “Come on, come on, come on.”
Pyro Storm peered over the edge of the building.
The camera shook harshly when Rebecca Firestone shouted and Shadow Star launched himself up and over the edge of the roof, feet going into Pyro Storm’s face. Pyro Storm was knocked off his feet and Nick screamed, raising his hands above his head in triumph. Shadow Star landed on the roof, crouched, one hand flat on the ground, the other raised behind him.
Pyro Storm tried to get up, but Shadow Star was already moving, shadows crawling along the roof, wrapping themselves around Pyro Storm’s legs and arms, holding him down. Shadow Star stood above him as Pyro Storm snarled at him. Shadow Star squatted next to him, and though it couldn’t be heard what they were saying, Nick knew Shadow Star was most likely lecturing Pyro Storm on turning away from evil and using his powers for good. Pyro Storm was telling him that he would never do such a thing, that he was a villain, and would do villain things.
(Nick knew this because he’d written a similar scene in chapter 34 of This Is Where We Scorch the Earth. Fiction often imitated real life, after all.)
Then Shadow Star stood, waving his hand. The shadows holding Pyro Storm down dissipated. He held his hand out to help Pyro Storm to his feet, but the villain knocked it away. Shadow Star shook his head and took a step back as Pyro Storm pushed himself up.
They stood facing each other for a moment, before Pyro Storm rocketed away, cape trailing behind him, the air burning.
Shadow Star stared after him for a moment before he shook his head. He glanced back at the chopper, saluted the camera, then leapt from the roof and disappeared from sight.
Nick watched the screen, slack-jawed, even as Rebecca Firestone breathlessly said that she’d never seen such a fight, and though damage to property was minimal, it appeared that things were escalating. “I’ll have to see if Shadow Star is willing to talk about this latest attack by Pyro Storm. If he is, you’ll hear it here first. This is Rebecca Firestone, Action News.”
9
Rebecca Firestone didn’t speak with Shadow Star, even on the last broadcast at ten.
Dad had texted, saying everything was fine.
Seth didn�
�t text at all.
* * *
By the time the front door opened early the next morning, Nick was already showered and dressed, standing in the kitchen, trying to figure out how he managed to burn toast when it was on the lowest setting. He hadn’t been distracted, not really, so it must have been a faulty toaster.
Dad looked tired, his duty belt sagging around his waist, bags under his eyes. He yawned when he came into the kitchen, blinking blearily as he went to the coffee maker that was programmed to start brewing at four in the morning. He poured himself a cup of decaf—keeping it black, much to Nick’s disgust—took a sip, and sighed.
Then he seemed to notice Nick.
He frowned.
Nick smiled.
Dad looked down at his watch, then back up at Nick. He saw the burnt toast on a plate, and the bowl of oatmeal with fruit already sitting on the table.
He said, “Hey.”
“Hi,” Nick said, smiling wider.
“What did you do?”
Nick scowled at him. “I didn’t do anything.”
Dad took another sip of liquid death. “You’re up—and dressed—before I even got home. You made breakfast—”
“You’re welcome, though the toast is burnt and the oatmeal is lumpy for reasons I don’t want to discuss.”
“—and I don’t think this has ever happened before. Ever.”
“Can’t a son do something nice for his hardworking father without there being a hidden agenda?”
Dad waited.
“It’s altruistic,” Nick insisted.
Dad snorted. “Is that right?”
“Yes. The fact that you think I would do something nice for untoward reasons is frankly offensive. I will accept your apology when you’re ready to give it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Dad said. “Burnt toast and lumpy oatmeal?”
Nick shrugged. “It could have been worse. It’s probably best that we don’t discuss what happened to the eggs I tried making first.”
“Is that what that smell is?”
“Yeah. Apparently no matter how much Febreeze one sprays, that egg smell tends to stick around. Who knew? Sit! Take a load off!”
Dad did just that, sliding off his duty belt and placing it on the counter.
Nick grabbed a chair and dragged it next to his dad’s. He sat, elbows on the table, and watched his father closely.
Dad looked like he was trying not to be amused but failed miserably.
He swirled the oatmeal. It wasn’t as lumpy as it’d been moments before, much to Nick’s relief. He watched as Dad took a bite. “Good?”
Dad nodded. “Good. Thanks, kid.”
“You’re welcome.”
Nick waited, because it was the right thing to do.
“This about yesterday?”
“Absolutely not. I’m a teenager. Sometimes I’m late, and it can’t be avoided.”
“Uh-huh. See that it doesn’t happen again.”
Nick pushed the plate of toast toward his dad’s hand.
Dad took a bite. It was mostly blackened, but it didn’t seem like he had to choke it down, so Nick was pleased.
He waited until his dad swallowed before he said, “Now that you’ve had an opportunity to come home and relax, a question, if I may?”
“There it is.”
“It’s just a question.”
“What happened to being altruistic?”
“There are strawberries in your oatmeal. That seems pretty selfless to me.”
“Oh boy.” Dad wiped his mouth with a napkin before leaning back in his chair. “Okay, hit me with it.”
That was easier than Nick had expected. “There was an … event. In Nova City yesterday.”
“Was there? Seems to me there were many events. Nova City is a pretty big place.”
Aggravating, that was what he was. He was good, but Nick was better. “Absolutely. But I couldn’t help but notice that you had to go in early yesterday afternoon, right around the time that this particular event was beginning to take place.”
“Interesting.”
“Quite. Now, if I were a betting man—”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. Betting child, maybe.”
“—betting man, I would think those two things were related.”
“Those seem to be some big odds.”
“I’m a cop’s kid,” Nick reminded him. “I’m pretty sure I know how to make deductions that prove to be correct.”
Dad smiled tiredly at him. “You are, aren’t you? Okay, I’ll play along. Let’s say I was at a certain event. What do you want?”
“Five questions, and you have to answer every one truthfully.”
“Three questions, and I’ll decide which ones get an answer.”
“Four questions, and if there’s one you can’t answer because of an open investigation, you can hint around it enough so I can figure it out on my own.”
“No questions, and you leave for school now to ensure we don’t have a repeat of yesterday.”
Nick glared at him. “Are we really doing this again?”
“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”
So. Aggravating. “Not funny.”
Dad shrugged. “I’m your father. Trust me when I say I’ve got a sense of humor.”
Nick threw his hands up. “Fine. Since apparently we live in Communist China, we’ll do it your way.”
“World Studies going well, then?”
Nick nodded. “I’m learning a lot. First test next week. All right, old man. You ready for this?”
“Hit me, kid.”
Nick leaned forward eagerly. “Did you see him?”
Dad sipped his coffee before answering. He really was the worst. “I did.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“I didn’t. Last question.”
Nick couldn’t believe it was almost over already. “I’d like to renegotiate the terms of our agreement, if I may.”
“You may not.”
Such a hard-ass. “Okay, let me think.”
“You’ve got thirty seconds.”
Nick gaped at him. “But—you know I can’t—why are you like this?”
“To make your life miserable. Twenty seconds.”
“Okay, wait. Just wait. Let me—”
“Ten seconds.”
“Time does not move that fast, you liar—”
“Three. Two. One.”
“Why do you think they were fighting like that?” Nick blurted.
Dad blinked like he hadn’t been expecting that question. “What?”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Nick said. “They’ve always been … not like that. It was like something happened, and they were taking it to another level. Sure, they’ve fought before, but they’ve never been in an all-out brawl like that. Why were they going after each other with such hatred?”
Dad rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t know what goes on in the mind of an Extraordinary. On one hand, you’ve got your boyfriend doing what he can to—”
“He’s not my boyfriend, oh my god, how can you say that—”
“—even if he can be a pain in the ass, and on the other hand, you’ve got that fire guy who just seems to like causing chaos for the hell of it. But the shadow fella and the fire guy have always been … what? Enemies?”
“Shadow fella and fire guy,” Nick repeated. “It’s like you’re deliberately trying to hurt me. Really. Stab me in the heart, why don’t you. It’d be easier.”
“You know more about this kind of thing than I do,” Dad said. “Don’t you stalk—I mean, don’t you follow everything they do? Obsessively? To the point I should probably be more concerned than I am?”
“A little,” Nick admitted. “I’ve got a handle on it. I’ll let you know if it gets to the point that might necessitate serving me a restraining order.”
“I’m glad you know yourself that well.”
“But, like I was saying, it has never bee
n that bad before, right? I mean, Pyro Storm doesn’t really try to hurt people like that. Mostly. Yeah, there was that one time when he accidentally lit that guy’s hair on fire when he tried to take a picture with him, but Pyro Storm put it out quickly. And the guy was in denial about his comb-over, so actually, Pyro Storm was probably doing him a favor. Live bald and proud, man.”
“Maybe something happened that changed things,” Dad said quietly. “It doesn’t take much to tip people over the edge. You lose something, Nicky, and you find yourself doing things you didn’t think you were capable of.”
Nick swallowed thickly. He knew what Dad was implying. He’d always been about protecting and serving, but then one of his witnesses had said the wrong thing at the wrong time and had gotten a broken nose because of it. “But that doesn’t mean you still can’t be a good person, right? Just because you did something wrong doesn’t mean that’s who you are. And even if you keep doing the wrong thing, you can still be saved. Maybe they just need someone to listen to them, to hear the storm in their heads.”
Dad stared at him. Nick tried not to squirm. Then, “You know, if you didn’t have this … thing for Shadow Star, I would almost think that you could be him.”
It was bittersweet to hear, to know his dad thought he could be an Extraordinary even though he was the furthest thing from it. “That’d sure be some twist, huh? Wouldn’t even see me coming.”
“Right,” Dad said slowly. “Do you know something, Nick? You can tell me if something’s wrong. You know that. I know it was … rough, for a little while. But we’ve gotten better, haven’t we? You can come to me with anything.”
“I know.” And Nick did. Mostly. “I don’t know more than I already told you.” He sighed. “I mean, I’ve only talked to Shadow Star that one time after he saved me from—” Nick felt the words dry up in his mouth. His skin buzzed. Shit. Shit, shit, shit—
Dad’s eyes narrowed as he sat forward. “What? What do you mean he saved you?”
Nick winced. “Uh. I was … talking about my story? That I’m writing? In my head?”
Dad slammed a hand on the table, making it shake. Nick flinched when the spoon fell out of the bowl of oatmeal and clattered onto the table. “We talked about this. You told me you wouldn’t lie to me. Not again.”