I stopped myself right as I was about to hit the last digit of 911. How was I going to explain to the cops what I was doing inside of Hannah’s place? I could tell them the truth, namely that I had come to check on her since she had been absent from work. My presence here, however, would almost automatically make me a suspect in her murder. I assumed there would be sufficient forensic evidence indicating that I wasn’t involved. For example, once the cops determined the exact time of Hannah’s death, they would determine I was at work at the time, or maybe with Isaac. Even so, I should be going after Antonio, not fooling around dealing with the cops, waiting for them to clear me of a crime I did not commit. For all I knew, the cops would take me into custody until they ruled me out as a suspect.
No, I wouldn’t risk it.
My mind racing, I put my phone back into my pocket. How would I find Antonio? If I were him and I had just killed my girlfriend, I would not be lounging around my own apartment, waiting for the police to come around to have a not-so-nice chat with me. No. Antonio was a vicious asshole, not a stupid one. He would try to disappear. With his mob connections, doing so would be easier for him than for a normal person. The sooner I got on his trail, the better.
Though I now itched to get out of here to find Antonio, I suppressed the urge to bolt out the door. This would be the only chance I would get to survey the crime scene before the police got here and sealed it. Maybe there was an indication here of where Antonio would run to. It was worth taking a few minutes to look around.
Still using my powers to avoid leaving fingerprints, I searched Hannah’s condo as thoroughly as I could. I carefully put everything I picked up back exactly the way I found it. Other than a hidden cache of sex toys in Hannah’s bedroom which made me feel like even more of a filthy voyeur than I already did, I found little of interest and absolutely nothing that gave me any idea of how to locate Antonio if he was not at his apartment. I did see a framed picture of Antonio and Hannah together at the beach on Hannah’s nightstand, though. Hannah looked so happy and so full of life in the picture; always the tough guy, Antonio glowered at the camera. The temptation to blast the picture into smithereens was almost irresistible.
During my search, I had found a box of plastic trash bags under the kitchen sink. After I completed my futile search, I pulled two of the bags out with my powers, double-bagged them, and then emptied my floating pile of puke into them. I pulled the bags’ drawstrings tight, and twisted the top of them several times for good measure. I then grabbed the bag, and floated toward the front door.
I paused in front of the door. I sighed. I could not leave without saying goodbye. I floated back into the living room, levitating again in front of Hannah’s body. Though I didn’t want to, I forced myself to look at her one last time.
“I’m so sorry I did this to you Hannah,” I said to her. My voice cracked. I swallowed hard. “I promise I’ll make Antonio for pay it.”
Hannah didn’t answer. The jaunty angle of the hat Antonio had given her seemed to mock me. Her lifeless stare was more than I could bear. I knew it would be a while before it stopped haunting me. Maybe it never would.
I floated to the front door again. The bag of vomit slung over my shoulder made me feel like a Santa Claus who delivered death and destruction instead of joy and toys. I waited for two people I sensed to pass and for the hallway to be empty again. I opened the door with my powers, landed on the other side of it, and closed the door behind me. I took a deep breath, happy to once again breathe in air that didn’t reek of death and vomit. I stared at Hannah’s closed door for a long moment, lost in thought and regret.
So much death. First Mom, then Dad, then Hammer, and now Hannah. I wasn’t getting used to the people I cared about dying. I didn’t want to get used to it.
Still carrying the trash bags, I took the stairs back down to the first floor. I left the building, and walked back toward the subway station. I dumped my vomit in the first trash bin I saw on the street.
I got on a train headed toward my house. At Huntington Place, three subway stops from Hannah’s, I got off the train again and exited the station. I hurriedly walked to a gas station a couple of blocks away. Thanks to my nightly patrols, I knew there was a pay phone outside of it. Mr. Langley often said that a few decades ago in Astor City, pay phones were as common as public urination. The urination had stayed, especially in shadier areas like Dog Cellar, but the pay phones were mostly gone thanks to almost everyone having a cell phone. The one at the gas station was one of the few I knew of that still existed in the city.
There were several security cameras mounted high up on the exterior of the gas station building, right under the roof’s overhang. Two of them were on the side of the building the pay phone was on. The gas station was relatively busy, but no one was looking up in the direction of the cameras. I took advantage of that fact by unobtrusively using my powers to pull a few leaves from the roof’s gutters. I levitated the leaves down, hovering them directly in front of the cameras, blocking their view of the pay phone.
I used the pay phone to dial 911. When the operator picked up, I said, “There’s been a murder at 616 Hanover Street, Unit 57. The victim is Hannah Kim. The perpetrator is Antonio Ricci, who goes by the street name of Mad Dog. His address is 34 Furman Drive, Unit 1313. He’s an unregistered Metahuman, so use caution when you apprehend him.”
“Who are you? How do you know all this?” the operator demanded.
“I’m just a guy trying to do the right thing. So far, unsuccessfully.” I hung up. The police got a lot of crank calls. They would not go to Antonio’s place first on the say-so of an anonymous 911 caller. They would go to Hannah’s, though. Once they found her body, they would take my call seriously. They would find and notify Hannah’s family. They would pinpoint where the 911 call had come from, see that there were video cameras here, and check the footage. They would only see a closeup of leaves. And eventually, they would go to Antonio’s place to question him.
I planned to get to him first.
I had intended to take the subway to my house so I could get my costume. However, I was too impatient to get my hands on Antonio to get on the train again. Besides, no one at the gas station seemed to be paying me any mind.
I sprang into the air, rising quickly so anyone who happened to look up would only see a blur. It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s Stupid Man! He kills his friends faster than a speeding bullet. Once I was out of the cameras’ view, I dropped the leaves hanging in front of them.
The sprawling city spread out under me as I rose higher and higher. Using the landmarks below to orient myself, I shot off in the direction of my house. I planned to land in some unobserved spot close to home, maybe a back alley, and walk the rest of the way. I would then grab my costume, suit up, and go find Antonio. I would check his apartment first. In the likely event he wasn’t there, I’d figure out some way of finding him.
As usual, I had a force field around me as I flew to protect me from the brunt of the wind and from random debris. The wind screamed around me as I rocketed toward the house. Soon, I thought, Antonio would be screaming too.
I said a silent prayer for Hannah. Having grown up a devout Catholic, prayer came as automatic as blinking when dust was in your eye. I had seen too much senseless death these past few years to be convinced anyone was listening. Regardless, I figured it couldn’t hurt.
Then I fixed my thoughts squarely on Antonio. My jaw tightened.
You can run Mad Dog, I thought, but you can’t hide.
9
As it turned out, I was wrong. Mad Dog could both run and hide.
It was four days after I discovered Hannah’s body. I had used what little leave time I had built up at the Times to take off work so I could devote all my time and energy to locating Antonio. I was no closer to finding him than I had been when I started.
It was the middle of a cloudless night. I landed on the roof of the UWant Building. Its green glass facade shimmered in the moonlight and t
he city’s lights. I had on my Kinetic costume and mask. I was exhausted. Constantly on the go, I had barely slept since discovering Hannah’s body. I felt a tickle in the back of my throat. The beginning of a sore throat? I hoped I was not getting sick. I was already sick at heart.
I came up here a lot. The only way someone could get up here from the building itself was through an access panel on the south side of the roof, which was a small observation desk and parapet surrounding the UWant Building’s tall spire. Months ago, I checked and confirmed that the access panel had been welded shut. As a result, I could fly up here to think undisturbed. Being so high on top of the city’s tallest building made me feel like I wasn’t really in the city anymore, even though I was smack dab in the middle of it.
The wind gusted, whistling like a banshee. This high up, the wind was always cold regardless of how hot it might be down below. Other than the sound of the wind, it was quiet up here. The sounds of the bustling city did not reach this high. Standing up here was like being a god on top of Mount Olympus, surveying from afar the toils and troubles of the mortal men below.
Star Tower was to the left. The twin blinking aircraft warning lights on top of it seemed to look up enviously at the emerald UWant Building that had eclipsed it. The lights of the rest of Astor City sparkled like jewels below. From up here, the city was beautiful, like a mirror image of the sparkling stars above. I knew stars were nothing more than a series of nuclear explosions; they’d burn you with heat and radiation if you got too close. I was beginning to think the same of Astor City—the closer you got to it, the more it burned and tarnished you.
A few minutes after I arrived, I spotted a dot in the sky. It rapidly grew closer, moving from being an indistinct, distant speck to a large, winged animal. A huge bird, almost man-sized, touched down on the roof near me. It had reddish-brown plumage and a contrasting snow-white head and breast. It was a Garuda, a bird from Hindu mythology that could fly faster than the wind. It was one of the few of Isaac’s forms that could come close to keeping up with me when I flew full tilt.
The bird’s form shimmered with a slight glow, expanded, and suddenly Isaac stood where the Garuda had been. He had on his Myth costume, a form-fitting, full-body black number with light blue bands on the wrists and ankles. Its cowl covered Isaac’s face from the nose up. A ferocious looking dragon was emblazoned in blood-red on the costume’s chest. Like me, Isaac wasn’t wearing his cape.
“Any luck?” I asked him. I was grateful he hadn’t said I told you so at any point since I had told him what had happened to Hannah. I had enlisted his help when I wasn’t able to locate Mad Dog on my own. As I had expected, Mad Dog had been nowhere to be found when I had gone to his place the day I discovered Hannah’s body. I had since discovered he was nowhere to be found anywhere else as well.
“No,” Isaac said. “I’ve been in touch with every source that I’ve developed on both the right and the wrong sides of the law.” He shook his head. “No dice. You?”
“The same. I’m at the point where I feel like I’m just spinning my wheels, rushing from place to place and person to person, but not really getting anywhere.” In addition to my throat not feeling right, my voice was raspy. I needed a good night’s sleep. I pushed the thought aside. There would be plenty of time for rest after I caught Antonio.
“There’s no guarantee Antonio is still in Astor City,” Isaac said. “Maybe he went to Italy to check out the Sistine Chapel and get acquainted with his long-lost ancestors. Heck, he could be in Timbuktu for all we know. If he is, he might as well be on Pluto. I couldn’t find Timbuktu if you drew me a map of it, gave me a superpowered bloodhound, and started me off in the right direction.”
“It’s in Africa. A city in Mali.”
Isaac rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t know that? I was feigning ignorance for effect. But thanks for trying to teach a black man about the motherland. Next you’ll be trying to school me on jazz, teaching me how to dunk a basketball, or telling me how to build a video game console or a pacemaker. My people invented those last two, you know. Stay in your lane, white devil. And speaking of staying in your lane, there are certain things we’re good at. We both are pretty good ass-kickers. I can charm a yolk out of an egg without breaking the shell. I’m sure you can grow a mean rutabaga thanks to your childhood in Mayberry or whatever the name is of the hick town you grew up near. But finding someone who clearly doesn’t want to be found? That, my friend, we suck at.”
I knew what he was doing. He was trying to make me laugh, to distract me, to take my mind from what I had done to Hannah. It wasn’t working. I said, “Tell me something I don’t already know. What’s your point?”
“My point is that maybe we should leave this up to the professionals. The news says the police consider Antonio a person of interest in Hannah’s death. They’re already looking for him. They’re experts at finding people. Despite our considerable talents, we’re not. We should let the pros do their jobs.”
“No,” I said firmly. “This is my fault, and therefore my responsibility. I’m not just going to sit back and I let someone else clean up my mess.” I snorted. “Besides, with the police in the city being as corrupt as they are, and Antonio being associated with the Esposito crime family, if the cops do manage to find him, they’ll probably pat him on the head, tell him to not be so naughty, and let him go. Assuming they’re looking for him at all. Remember what happened with Silverback? Maybe money has changed hands and some police captain miraculously has the money to finally build the addition to his house he’s always dreamed of in exchange for Antonio walking away free as a bird. If the Hero Kinetic is the one who captures him, it’ll shine so much publicity on Hannah’s death that it will make it that much harder for the cops to sweep what Antonio did under the rug.”
“You’re being too cynical. Not all cops are bad cops.”
“And you’re being too naive. If every cop was like your father, I’d be less concerned about it. But they’re not. You know that. You’ve seen some of the same shenanigans that go on in this city that I have.”
“Okay, so let’s say you find Antonio before the cops do. Then what?” Isaac demanded. “Will you hand him right over to the authorities? Or will you indulge in a bit of vigilante justice?”
“If you’re asking me if I’m planning on killing him, the answer is no. You know I’m not a killer. If I couldn’t bring myself to kill the Meta who murdered my father, I’m certainly not going to kill Antonio. Which is not to say that Antonio doesn’t deserve it. You should have seen what he did to Hannah. He beat her like a piñata before blowing a hole clear through her.”
“What will you do if we find him? You’ll beat the crap out of him again?” Isaac shook his head. “Like I told you a few days ago, I won’t stand for it. I’m all for Antonio being captured, but I’m not for him being brutalized. Even if he is a piece of crap, he’s a piece of crap with legal rights. We’re Heroes, not gods. We don’t get to do whatever we want to whoever we want whenever we want. We’re supposed to follow the rules just like everyone else does.”
Anger bubbled up within me. “You’re talking to me about Antonio’s rights? What about Hannah’s right to not be beaten up and murdered?” I snorted derisively. “You of all people shouldn’t be moralizing. How about stepping out of your hypocritical glass house before throwing stones at me? You’re the same guy who encouraged me to kill Frank during the Trials.”
“I was wrong then. You were right to not listen to me. I was too emotional about the whole situation due to what Frank had done to my sister, just like you’re too emotional now about what Antonio did to Hannah.” Isaac shook his head. “Which is another reason why you should let the police handle Antonio. You say you won’t kill him, but I wonder if you’ll remember that in the heat of the moment if you find him. I remember the look you had in your eye when you were beating his face to a pulp. It’s the same look you have now. You’re exhausted, mad, upset, and grieving. You’re not thinking clearly. For yo
ur own good, you should just let this go before you do something you’ll regret.”
I grew more and more irritated as Isaac spoke. My anger and frustration about the whole situation boiled over. “You know what I regret? Asking you for your help.” I rose into the air. The wind was cool against my flushed face. “While we’re here jawing, Antonio is likely burrowing further and further underground. We’re wasting time. I don’t need to be lectured, and I certainly don’t need to be told what to do. I’ll find Antonio on my own. If you’ve got a problem with what I’m doing or have done, go tattle on me to the Guild like you threatened to do earlier. Afterward, go home, curl up with the Boy Scout Handbook, and mind your own goddamned business. In the meantime, I’ve got a homicidal Rogue to find.”
“C’mon Theo, don’t be like that. I’m trying to look out for you. All I’m saying is . . .”
But I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I was too high in the air now, having risen high above where Isaac still stood on the top of the UWant Building. Before he could transform into a creature to fly up after me, I zoomed off into the distance faster than Isaac could follow.
The problem was I didn’t know where I was flying. I had already tried everything I could think of to find Antonio. What was I supposed to do now? Go door to door looking for where Antonio might have holed up? I could see it now: Sorry to bother you ma’am, but are you by any chance harboring a homicidal mob enforcer who spits energy balls? He’s a big fat guy with pig eyes and a bald bullet head. Hard to miss. No, you haven’t seen him? Okay, thanks for your time. Wait, what’s that? Am I crazy? I’m an adult dressed up like a trick-or-treater when it’s nowhere close to Halloween. Quite possibly. I wasn’t opposed to going door to door if that’s what it took, but there had to a faster and more efficient way. Besides, as Isaac correctly pointed out, there was no guarantee Antonio was even still in Astor City. If I had to knock on every door in the world, I’d be dead and buried long before I’d stumble upon Antonio.
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