Karma Girl

by Jennifer Estep

  “Right here,” Hermit said. “That’s where the entrance was.”

  Steel beams and pieces of building the size of small cars covered the exit. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I cracked my knuckles and did a few stretches to limber up. It was always important to stretch before undertaking big tasks. I might be a superhero, but I could still blow out my knee or tear my biceps.

  “Which side do you want, Ingénues?”

  Like most superheroes, the girls had some muscle on them, especially when they worked together.

  “We’ll take...”

  “The left side.”

  “Good. I’ve got the right then.”

  I looked over my shoulder, making sure no one was behind me so they wouldn’t get hit by the boulders I was about to toss back. Then, I went to work.

  So did Johnny Angel. In addition to having a superhard exoskeleton, Angel was stronger than average. After twenty minutes, the four of us had cleared a space big enough for a couple of people to walk through. I peered into the darkness. More beams lay inside crisscrossed over each other like the teeth of a zipper. Whoever went in would have to be very, very careful. It would be worse than walking through a maze of razor wire—one that could come down on your head and crush you at any moment.

  “It might work better if Fiera and I went inside together. She can hold up the roof and move things as needed, while I drag the people out,” Angel suggested. “As long as I keep concentrating on my exoskeleton, the debris won’t hurt me.”

  Mr. Sage peered into the dark hole. “You’re right. Hermit and I will stay here with the Ingénues and monitor the building from the outside. I’ll use my telekinesis to try to steady some of the structural points. Be careful. Both of you.”

  I pressed my fist to my heart. Mr. Sage and Hermit did the same. The Ingénues had seen the salute before, but Angel stared at us. Curiosity glimmered in his eyes.

  I turned to him. “All right, Angel. Follow me.”

  I took a deep breath and stepped inside the collapsed building.

  *

  The inside was even worse than the outside. The main support beams had crumpled in on each other like cheap tinfoil. Dust hung in the air like a wet blanket, and debris littered the uneven ground. Rocks slid and shifted under our feet with every step we took. It would have been safer to walk through a minefield, but we plunged inside anyway. We had to. People were counting on us. I wrapped myself in flames to light the way, careful not to burn too bright, so I wouldn’t ignite whatever gas or chemicals might be in the air.

  I didn’t have many fears, but being in a small, unstable space was one of them. I could feel the weight of the building hovering over my head. All that metal. All that steel. All that concrete. Just waiting to come crashing down and bury me forever. It reminded me of the unbreakable glass tube I’d been stuck in last year when the others and I had been captured by the Terrible Triad. I’d felt the tube pressing in on me in the exact same manner. I panted for air.

  “Just take deep breaths,” Angel said, touching my arm. “It’ll help.”

  I stiffened, hating myself for letting my nervousness show. Still, the feel of his hand reminded me that I wasn’t alone in this. And that there were eight people somewhere in here that were in much worse shape than me. I had a duty to help them. I couldn’t afford to chicken out now.

  I drew in a breath and let it out slowly. My nerves steadied.

  “Fiera, turn left. According to the heat-sensing camera in your suit, there’s a thermal image about a hundred yards ahead of you,” Hermit’s voice crackled in my ear.

  “Copy that.” I jerked my head at Angel. “This way.”

  We eased through the metal maze. Ten yards in, twenty, fifty, a hundred. I upped the dimmer on my body and peered into the darkness, trying to see something, anything that resembled a human form. A flash of shimmering white caught my eye. “Swifte!”

  I eased over to the superhero. Now I knew why he hadn’t made it back out of the building. Two metal beams had crashed down on him. One lay on his leg, the other on his back. His costume was torn in several places, and blood blackened the dirt under his body. For a moment, I thought he was unconscious or maybe even dead, but Swifte turned his head to stare at my boots.

  “Hey, Swifte. What’s shaking?” I asked.

  The superfast superhero grinned into the dirt. “Not much at the moment.” His voice was raspy and strained. The beam must be pressing down on his lungs, making it hard for him to breathe.

  “You know, I’ve never seen you like this before. Usually, you just zip in and zip out of these situations,” I said, being my usual bitchy self to lighten the mood.

  He shrugged. Or at least, he tried to. He got about halfway there before stopping in pain. “Normally I do. But it’s a little more difficult when there’s a thousand beams raining down on you at once.”

  “Well, hold still. We’re going to get you out of here.”

  Swifte shook his head an inch. “Get the others out first. I’m all right.” He grimaced.

  “Are you sure?” Angel asked. “Because you look pretty messed up to me, man.”

  “Get the others out first,” Swifte wheezed. “They’re only a couple hundred yards up ahead.”

  “Noble to the end, huh, Swifte?” I said.

  “Just doing my job, Fiera. Just doing my job.”

  I could respect that. While we talked, I heard the sound of buttons being punched in my ear.

  “Swifte’s right. I’ve got more images about two hundred yards farther in,” Hermit said.

  “All right. We’re going to get the others out. But we’ll be back for you in a few minutes. Okay, Swifte?”

  The superhero chuckled. “Of course. Unfortunately, I’m not going anywhere at the moment.”

  I nodded to Angel. “Let’s go.”

  Hermit guided us through the remains of the ruined building. It was slow going, but ten minutes later, we stumbled onto the rest of the construction crew. They huddled together in a space about the size of a large desk that was amazingly free of debris. Other than cuts and scrapes, a few broken bones, and having a decade or so scared out of them, the men and women were in remarkably good shape. Somebody upstairs had been smiling on them tonight.

  Angel surprised me again. One by one, he pulled the men and women to their feet. He spoke to them in soft, soothing tones and guided them back through the metal maze. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought that Johnny Angel was one of Bigtime’s finest superheroes. I stayed behind to help calm the others while they waited for their turn. Every other minute, the building creaked and shrieked like a tree caught in a hurricane, but it stayed up, thanks to my father and his mind of steel.

  Angel put his arm around the last construction crew member, and the three of us headed back to Swifte. I picked up the beams pinning down the speedy superhero, and Angel pulled Swifte out from under them. The superhero’s suit was in tatters, and blood stained the opalescent fabric a dark scarlet. A long, deep gash decorated his right thigh where shrapnel had cut into him. I winced. Blood didn’t bother me, but Swifte’s wound looked nasty and painful.

  “I don’t think you’ll be running any marathons anytime soon,” Angel said, staring at the superhero’s leg.

  “That’s what you think,” Swifte said.

  He took a step as though to dart away. I caught him before he smacked into the ground.

  “Easy, big boy,” I said. “There’ll be plenty of time to disappear on us later.”

  Swifte mumbled something under his breath.

  “You’re welcome,” I replied.

  I picked up Swifte and carried him outside, while Angel took care of the construction guy. The four of us emerged from the building, and the crowd erupted into wild, happy cheers. Cameras flashed. Sirens sounded. People whistled and clapped and yelled until they were hoarse. The roar was deafening.

  I put Swifte down in the back of an ambulance and struck my best, classic superhero pose. Hands on hips, stomach in, brea
sts out. The crowd cheered even louder. I smiled and shot more sparks off my fingertips. A little good press never hurt anyone. There were so many heroes in Bigtime these days it was hard to stand out from the crowd.

  A couple of paramedics came over to treat Swifte. Mr. Sage and Hermit moved to stand beside me.

  Mr. Sage put a hand on my shoulder. “Good work, Fiera.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I said in a soft voice only he could hear.

  My gaze went to the people we’d pulled from the rubble. I stared at the worried husbands and wives who hovered over their injured spouses as the paramedics checked them out. I thought of Travis. He would have loved to have been part of such a successful rescue. But he wasn’t here. And he would never be again.

  But the thought didn’t make me feel so empty, so hollow, as it usually did. I could remember the good times now, instead of just the aching pain of Travis’s loss. I knew Johnny Bulluci had a great deal to do with that.

  Speaking of Johnnies, I drifted over to Angel, who was standing next to his motorcycle smoking a cigarette. I didn’t really want to say thank you, especially to someone who’d threatened to kill us if we got in the way of his pursuit of Siren and Intelligal. But I had to. My silly superhero honor wouldn’t let me not do it. “Thanks for helping me out in there. I don’t do so well in tiny spaces.”

  “No problem. I’m glad you let me help.” Angel’s eyes wandered over to the construction-crew members, who were busy hugging and kissing their weeping spouses and children. “We did a good thing tonight.”

  “Yes, we did.”

  We exchanged a smile, in sync for once. Angel turned and got on his motorcycle.

  Something clinked, and a spot of silver on the black pavement caught my eye.

  “Hey, wait! You lost your watch.” I leaned down, picked up the silver watch, and turned it over so I could see what time it was. It had to be almost three in the morning by now—

  I froze.

  A pair of silver angel wings decorated the watch’s black face. I recognized it immediately. It was the same watch Siren and Intelligal had stolen at Carmen’s wedding. The same watch I’d handed back to Johnny Bulluci.

  Johnny Bulluci.

  Johnny Angel.

  My eyes flew to his face. And I knew they were one and the same.

  “Thanks,” he said, taking the watch from my sparking fingers. “I’d hate to lose this.”

  Angel snapped the timepiece around his wrist and gave me a mock salute. Then, he fired up his motorcycle and rumbled away into the night.

  All I could do was stare at his retreating form.

  PART TWO

  THE HONEYMOON’S OVER

  Chapter Sixteen

  After shaking hands with everyone, working the crowd, and reluctantly giving interviews to reporters from SNN and the two newspapers in town, The Chronicle and The Exposé, we piled into the van and headed back to Sublime.

  The others chattered about the rescue and wondered who or what could have brought down the massive sports complex. I sat in the back and stared out the tinted windows. Brooding.

  Johnny Bulluci was Johnny Angel. I was still trying to figure out what it meant. How I felt about it. The guy I’d been having a hot fling with was actually a...a what? He wasn’t a hard-core ubervillain like Malefica, but Angel was no, well, angel. At least, his last incarnation hadn’t been.

  Johnny’s anger over his father’s death. Angel’s vow of revenge on Siren and Intelligal for killing his predecessor. All those freaking angels in the Bulluci mansion. I hated to admit it, but Carmen was right. We superheroes weren’t the brightest bunch when it came to disguising our real identities. I could have firebombed myself for not seeing Angel’s real identity sooner. Say, before I’d gone and slept with him.

  “You’re awfully quiet, Fiona,” the chief said in his thick brogue. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m just tired.” I was tired. And cranky. And famished. Not to mention the shock I’d just received.

  “Well, I don’t want to pry, but if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

  Grateful that he wasn’t going to read my mind tonight, I nodded and returned to my brooding.

  *

  I crashed in my underground suite at Sublime and didn’t get up until almost four the next afternoon. I hadn’t slept well. In my dreams, Johnny Bulluci had kept morphing into Johnny Angel and back again until I couldn’t tell where one man started and the other ended. Not the most pleasant dream to have about your lover. Especially when you moonlighted as a superhero who was supposed to fight crime, and your honey was out to kill a couple of ubervillains, no matter what. And it was your responsibility to stop bad things like murders from taking place, no matter how much someone might deserve it.

  Grumbling, I got out of bed, showered, and went to the kitchen. I wolfed down five pizzas, three hamburgers, a twelve-pack of soda, two chocolate cheesecakes, an apple pie, and three gallons of vanilla ice cream. I always ate more when I was angry or upset. Johnny’s secret identity was more than enough to make me both.

  After polishing off my late lunch, I went to the library looking for Henry. I wanted him to get me all the information on Johnny Bulluci that he could find. I opened the double doors and stopped short. Instead of Henry, Lulu sat inside the spacious room. The fan in her laptop whirred to life at my arrival.

  “Oh, you’re here—” I started to say again, but I caught myself.

  “Nice to see you too, Fiona,” Lulu replied.

  “Where are the others?”

  Lulu hit a few buttons on her computer. “The chief had some big city meeting he had to go to about the collapse of the sports complex. Evidently, the powers that be want to know why it happened and how much it’s going to cost to clean it up and get the project back on track.”

  No big shock there. Assessing the damage was the first thing the Bigtime city government did the morning after accidents like last night’s incident. They set aside one morning a week to devote to all the buildings, cars, and streetlights the city’s superheroes and ubervillains destroyed. Epic battles might have been bad for the historic structures in the city, but they kept the local construction companies in business. There was always a building boom of one kind or another in Bigtime.

  “And Henry?” He was the one I was really interested in at the moment.

  “He’s down at the Complete Computer Company trying out some new microprocessor for his technology column in the newspaper. He won’t be back until late tonight.”

  Damn. Where was the computer geek when I needed him? There was nothing I could do about it, though, short of calling Henry and demanding that he torpedo his job to help me. I knew from past experience that wouldn’t work. For some strange reason, Henry actually liked his crummy day job at The Exposé. He would play hooky from work only if one of the Fearless Five was in mortal danger—or his precious computer was about to explode.

  I sat down in my usual seat at the F5 table and drummed my fingers on the top. Sparks flew everywhere, adding more scars to the scorched wood. My stomach rumbled. Lunch was gone already.

  “Do you need something, Fiona?” Lulu asked.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because you look just like Carmen did when she was hot on the trail of a superhero she was about to expose. All tense and twitchy and bothered.”

  Being compared to Carmen aka Karma Girl Cole didn’t help my sour mood. But I stopped drumming my fingers. Lulu would find out about Johnny when I told Henry and the chief. I might as well tell her what I wanted and get the information now. I didn’t want to wait a second longer than necessary to get the goods on Johnny Bulluci. I wasn’t good at waiting. Patience was something else I’d never seen the virtue in.

  “I need everything you can dig up on Johnny Bulluci.”

  Lulu arched an eyebrow. “Why is that? Is he your new honey?”

  “Yes, he’s my new honey,” I snarled.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Lulu shot me a coy look. “So that’s w
ho had you all hot and bothered last night.”

  I rolled my eyes at her obvious pun. “Yes, that’s who had me all hot and bothered last night. But there’s more to it than that.”

  “Sure there is,” Lulu smirked.

  She was getting on my last nerve, so I did my best to shut her up. “Oh, there’s a lot more to it. I’m pretty sure he’s really Johnny Angel. You know, the guy who rides around on the motorcycle? The one who threatened to kill us?”

  Lulu stopped typing. Her head snapped up. “No way!”

  “Way.”

  I told her everything. About Johnny’s anger over his father’s death, the family obsession with angels, the watch. All of it.

  Lulu let out a low whistle. “So you’ve been getting hot ’n’ heavy with the guy who’s vowed to destroy Siren and Intelligal, and the Fearless Five if you get in his way.”

  I shot my finger at her. “You’ve got it.”

  “And I thought I had problems,” Lulu muttered.

  My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that? What’s going on with you and Henry?”

  Lulu looked at her computer screen and refused to meet my hot, searching gaze.

  “Oh, come on,” I snapped. “I spilled to you, now you spill to me. I won’t laugh, if that’s what you’re worried about.” At least, I’d try not to.

  “Henry asked me to marry him,” Lulu said in a soft tone.

  Straight arrow, geek-to-the-max Henry aka Hermit Harris had proposed marriage to one of the most notorious computer hackers in Bigtime. A woman who could expose us with a click of her mouse. Fabulous. Just fabulous.

  “When?”

  “Three weeks ago.”

  I thought back. “Wasn’t that the weekend you guys went to that big ubergeek conference in Ashland?”

  Lulu glared at me. “It was not an ubergeek conference. It was a computer symposium about Internet security.”

  I snorted. “Like there’s a difference.”

  “Anyway,” Lulu continued with her story. “We stayed at this quaint little bed-and-breakfast just outside the city and went to the conference during the day. One night when we came back to the room, everything was covered in rose petals. There were flowers and champagne. Henry had hidden the ring in a chocolate cake. He had it made in the shape of a laptop. It was so romantic.” Lulu’s eyes went all soft and dreamy.