by C. C. Ekeke
“Great.” Hugo steeled himself to ask about the suicide bombers…and hesitated. Fear of Lady Liberty’s disapproval left him paralyzed. “Just checking.”
“Okay…” Quinn replied. “Call me whenever.”
Ask, idiot! “Okay.” Hugo hung up, cursing his own cowardice. He almost called back, then realized how stupid that would appear. “Shit,” he seethed, stuffing the cellphone in his pocket, then sped off to dance practice.
Chapter 10
“Party people!” Wale called out, drawing all eyes in the dance studio. “Gather around.”
Hugo wiped the sweat off his buzzcut head and approached, wearing loose dance clothing. Clustering around Wale with him were the rest of the Fab Phenoms: Grace, Groban, JT, and the strawberry-blonde Stanley twins.
Aeon Studios, a small dance workspace at the borders of Paso Robles and San Miguel, was where the Phenoms practiced three days a week. Hugo attended only two days because of superhero training. They got free access thanks to Grace working at Aeon every other Sunday.
Wale pulled out the band holding his braids, bursting with eagerness. “Great practice. And great news.”
Excitement rippled through the group. Karin and Marin eyed each other. “Do tell!” the twins purred.
“A dance competition?” Groban asked, toweling his fabulous dark mane.
Grace nodded and smiled. “Rock the Beach B-Boy Competition in a few weeks.”
“And the Fab Phenoms are entered,” Wale finished. The group erupted.
Hugo fist-bumped with JT. “Fan-fucking-tastic!”
Wale wasn’t done. “We need everyone’s best.” He turned to Hugo. “And full commitment.”
All smiles vanished. Everyone averted their stares elsewhere. Hugo shrugged off getting singled out. He didn’t expect to return to the Phenoms with everything forgiven. “I’m game,” Hugo assured.
Wale glared back. “Your schedule says otherwise.” Groban and Marin exchanged a glance. JT snorted.
This isn’t only him. Hugo swallowed budding irritation. Wale had claimed his reduced schedule wasn’t a problem. “My schedule's locked,” Hugo declared. “But I’m committed to this crew.”
Grace gave Wale a warning look. “You said you wanted to start fresh.”
Wale's thin shoulders slumped. “I do.”
“Then start fresh,” Grace ordered, ending the debate. Another reason why Hugo loved G-Mama.
Wale looked to Hugo. “Sorry.”
Hugo waved off the apology. “No worries.”
As everyone dispersed, he pulled Grace aside. “Thanks,” he said.
She shouldered her gym bag, unusually stern. “Thank me by coming through in a few weeks.”
Hugo walked home most of the way instead of superspeeding. It let him soak in the sights, smells, and sounds of San Miguel’s evening. He also considered Grace’s and Wale’s words. Their skepticism was justified. The last time Hugo had performed with the Phenoms was after Dad's death. He’d started a brawl with another crew during the performance. Hugo wouldn’t screw up like that again. But when Lady Liberty thinks I’m field-ready? Supervillains wouldn’t wait for him to finish dance competitions. Hugo knew he couldn’t delay choosing between superheroics or dancing much longer.
Speaking of Lady Liberty, Hugo felt better after asking her about the teen suicide bombings.
“The local authorities are taking this case seriously, after the Lake Nacimiento attack,” she had assured. “If they’re still stumped, we’ll ask Geist’s team to investigate.”
But even though no bombings had happened since, worry kept gnawing at Hugo. Some psycho was turning kids into suicide bombers. For now, like with his awful costume and codename, he’d trust Lady Liberty’s wisdom.
When Hugo got home, Mom and Uncle Sione were upstairs. AJ was still at soccer practice. He raced up to his bedroom to drop off his backpack and gym bag.
Hugo opened his room door and froze.
Uncle Sione was squatting inside Hugo’s closet, tossing items aside without care. He pulled out a silvery package holding Hugo’s Kid Liberty costume with great interest.
Hugo’s heart lurched. In an instant he reached the closet, yanking Sione out by the collar more forcefully than required. Hugo was too furious to care. “What the hell?”
Sione stumbled backward, quickly regaining balance. He looked rattled by his nephew’s strength. “Easy, kid,” Sione said coolly. “I need something in there.” He weaved around Hugo as if everything was kosher.
Hugo shoved him back as gently as his anger allowed. Any harder and Sione would’ve flown across the bedroom. “Stay out of my shit,” Hugo barked.
Sione’s rough-hewn face twisted. “You need to watch your voice, boy.” He puffed out his chest.
Hugo got right in his face, unimpressed. “You’re in my room, in my closet without my permission!” he snarled through clenched teeth. Time to establish house rules. “You need to watch your ass!”
Uncle Sione backpedaled in alarm, clearly grasping who the alpha was.
“Hey!” Mom’s voice broke the tension. She rushed into Hugo's room wearing maroon nursing scrubs and wedged herself between the two. “What is going on?”
Sione jabbed an accusing finger at Hugo. “Your son's disrespectful, Lina.”
“Sione was in my closet, going through my stuff,” Hugo countered, watching Mom pointedly.
Her face darkened in comprehension. She glared at her younger brother. “I said to wait for Bogota.”
Sione shrank back. “I figured doing it myself was faster.”
“Don’t do that again.” Her firm voice left no room for argument. Mom turned to her eldest. “Hugo…” She softened and touched his wrist. “Your uncle meant no harm.”
Hugo gave Sione a hostile onceover. “Sure,” he replied sourly, blood still boiling.
“I’m leaving for my shift.” Mom’s eyes danced cautiously between both men. “Dallas’s parents are dropping AJ off at Apple Farm. Can you two pick him up and get dinner without killing each other?”
“Yes,” Both Hugo and Sione agreed, barely making eye contact.
“Good.” Mom sighed, semi-convinced. She turned to leave.
“Savelina,” Sione called out. “Don’t forget what we discussed.” He held out a hand expectantly.
Mom jolted. “Oh, right.”
Hugo was confused watching her scurry from the bedroom. Then she returned three minutes later with fistful of Benjamins. Every visit, Sione angled for handouts. And Mom never refused him. She handed Sione at least five hundred dollars, which he stuffed in his pocket smugly.
That rankled Hugo considerably. He almost asked which failed business the money was for but held his tongue. Especially since Mom enjoyed Sione’s presence.
After kissing both Sione and Hugo goodbye, Mom raced downstairs to leave for work.
Hugo took Dad’s car on the drive to Apple Farm, which Mom never had to the heart to sell. Kids his age relished driving. Hugo felt like he was moving in slow-motion. Twenty minutes’ driving was lengthy for someone who ran at subsonic speeds. Hugo considered being dead-on about Sione. The man had bulldozed through his room like it was nothing. If Hugo had arrived seconds later, Sione could’ve inadvertently discovered his secret. Who knew what someone with all his debt would do with that?
“Sorry about earlier.” Sione’s voice made Hugo glance over. His uncle’s face showed clear remorse.
“No worries.” Hugo offered a half-smile, relaxing his defenses. “Sorry I flipped out.” He meant it. “Just ask before going through my stuff.”
Sione nodded, running fingers through his curly hair. “Whatcha got in there? International secrets?”
Close. “Private stuff,” Hugo stated vaguely, focusing on the road.
They reached Apple Farm minutes later. The warmly lit restaurant was crowded for dinner, meaning a long table wait. Hugo spotted a few Paso High students he recognized.
“Gotta piss. I’ll pay you back for the takeout.” Uncl
e Sione beelined for the restrooms.
Hugo stared after him. “Seriously.” Mom just gave Sione like five hundred bucks. Whatever. Shaking his head, he got in line at the bakery counter.
Hugo ordered the family style pancake meal for four. Mom would have leftovers tomorrow. While waiting for his order, Hugo focused his superhearing to discover why Sione was taking so long.
“He’s inside!”
Hugo glanced at Apple Farm’s entrance. That was AJ inside a parked car. Two other heartbeats occupied the car with him.
“I’ll come with,” said an older teen girl, sounding familiar.
“Not him, Abby. That’s Junior’s brother,” Dallas complained.
Hugo turned around completely. His stomach churned with anticipation.
“Hush,” Abby Dunleavy scolded her younger brother. “I’m just saying hi. C’mon, Junior.”
Minutes later, Apple Farm’s entrance swung open. AJ entered first in soiled soccer gear.
“Hey, uso,” Hugo greeted. But his attention landed on the near six-foot stunner gliding in behind AJ.
Abby was a sight to ogle at repeatedly. Soft porcelain skin, slender and sloping figure, decked out in snug jeans. Her tightfitting red t-shirt had Damsel Causing Distress in bold white. Her golden-blonde hair was a short, jagged pixie cut. Abby’s deep-blue eyes gleamed as she smiled mischievously.
Her proximity jolted through Hugo like electricity. “Hey, Abby,” he greeted, strangely dazed.
“Hello, Bogie,” she replied, walking up like they were old friends.
That doused Hugo’s lust in cold water. “Hey now. You don’t know me like that, Abilene,” he taunted.
“You didn’t know who my brother was, Hugo.” Abby’s eyes narrowed but her smile widened in challenge.
Hugo’s ears burned. “Loudmouth,” he hissed at a sneering AJ. His gaze returned to Abby and stayed there. “You got me there.” How could anyone look away? Her face, that don’t-give-a-fuck attitude. Her hips moving seductively each step. Everything about Abby was mouthwatering.
Despite the nasty rumors he’d heard, Hugo had never spoken to Abby. As someone who’d also been misjudged by strangers, Hugo refused to do the same. “Let’s try again.” He held out a hand. “Hi, Hugo.”
“Abby.” She accepted Hugo’s handshake with an amused grin. “Pleasure to finally meet.”
Her smile was infectious, filling Hugo with dizzying warmth. “Same.”
She moved closer, invading Hugo’s personal space with her enjoyable fragrance. Not that he minded. “I heard a rumor,” Abby began, “that Grace Misawa hosts dance parties at random places around Paso.”
Hugo had to laugh. Grace had started this over the last three months as a gathering of the Fab Phenoms and some friends. Very exclusive and growing in guest lists. Now students all over Paso High wanted invites. “I can confirm,” Hugo stated, “that we hold auditions if you want an invitation.”
Abby’s eyes lit up. “In that case.” She did two slow twirls with a seductive shoulder shimmy.
AJ ogled. Hugo’s pants tightened. “I think we’ll need a longer audition,” he endorsed jokingly.
“Why, Hugo.” Abby placed a hand on her chest. “You wanna private show?” She batted her eyelashes.
Hugo gulped, nearly having a heart attack. What the HELL? “Uh…”
“Uncle!” AJ called.
Hugo turned as Sione walked from the restroom.
“Hey, Junior,” he said, gawking at Abby.
“Did you fall into a toilet?” Hugo asked, introducing her to his drooling uncle.
When their order arrived, Abby took her leave. “See ya at school.” She winked and glided out of Apple Farm, turning several heads.
“You tapping her, too?” Sione exclaimed as the three Malalous walked to their car.
Hugo’s cheeks flushed. “Nothing to see there.” The sudden attention on his love life felt weird.
“Abby is Dallas’s sister,” AJ added, tossing his soccer bag into the trunk.
“She’s a teenager?” Sione looked flabbergasted. “What are they feeding those Paso High girls?”
Hugo tried steering the conversation away from his ‘romances’ on the drive home, only bringing new questions from Sione.
“I’m happy you’re getting action.” He scratched his chin. “Last time I visited, you were crazy about this crazy beautiful girl with green eyes and a weird name.”
Hugo’s throat went dry. A glance in the rearview revealed AJ wincing. “Eeesh.” Sione had met Briseis at Dad’s funeral, a lifetime ago. Hugo had been a different person, weaker and pathetic.
Sione looked back and forth at his nephews, lost. “What did I say?”
“She and I aren't friends anymore.” Hugo refused to say her name.
“That sucks,” Sione said in a smaller voice, then cleared his throat. “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you two losing your dad. I should’ve been here.”
Hugo preferred the romance talk. He couldn’t bring himself to see AJ’s reaction. “You have your life.”
“No excuse.” Sione shook his head adamantly. “You boys are growing fast, but you still need a man in your house. As long as your mom will have me.”
Alarm bells sounded in Hugo’s head. He hadn’t expected…or wanted Sione to stay beyond a week. But the rearview revealed AJ’s happiness.
Fuck. Hugo’s brother craved a father figure, hence why he hung out often with Dallas Dunleavy’s dad.
“Thanks.” Hugo’s doubts felt appalling, centered on protecting a fledgling superhero career. For AJ and Mom’s sake, he’d give Sione a chance. “Mom and AJ need that.”
“And you, Bogota.” Sione placed a large, calloused hand on Hugo’s shoulder. “Anything you need.”
Dinner was sinfully delicious. But Hugo couldn’t linger to hang with AJ and Sione on a training night. Hugo raced upstairs normally, tossed his costume in a backpack, then scurried back down.
“Where do you keep disappearing to?” Sione demanded.
“Internship.” Hugo was out the door. “Has weird hours.” After jogging around the block, he zoomed off. Hugo found Ms. Ortiz’s training facility empty. A text on his second cell revealed tonight’s routine.
Business up north that needs my attention. Patrol the city in costume to get comfortable wearing it. No engagement with criminals or with civilians.
Hugo squeezed his eyes shut. “I gotta wear that?” It was bound to happen eventually. He slid off his backpack and pulled out the star-spangled Kid Liberty costume.
Fifteen minutes later, Hugo perched on a rooftop overlooking an ocean of bright lights and crisscrossing traffic. Drinking in the City of Wonder this high up never got old. So far, his costume only sucked aesthetically. When he was moving, it felt like a second skin. The eye covers processed visual info better, enhancing his already fantastic 140/20 vision. He listened to downtown, losing himself in the rhythms and frequencies. San Miguel was a living, breathing organism that never slept. Before, taking this vast city in used to overwhelm him. Now with more experience, Hugo felt humbled by the City of Wonder’s magnitude. This neighborhood was calm, small crimes being handled by the cops. Hugo rose and ran, bounding through the air, rooftop to rooftop—almost flying.
But not quite. Hugo still couldn't fly.
Barks from machine guns several blocks away caught his ear. Hugo leaped toward the crime in progress without hesitancy. Letting his hypersenses guide him just felt effortless.
Hugo reached his destination in seconds; a run-down neighborhood at the far edge of downtown. He landed in a crouch with a slight crack beneath him. Two local gangs below, armed to the teeth, traded gunfire that lit up the alley like paparazzi on a red carpet. Hugo noted twenty-five gangbangers ducking behind cars and shadowy corners, nine bodies down. He recoiled, hearing terrified residents cower inside nearby apartments. Responding cops were too far away. Someone has to stop this.
Hugo could see a strategy in his mind’s eye. Drop behind one
gang, superspeed around to grab everyone’s guns, then knock everyone out. Anxiety twisted up Hugo's insides. “I’m actually doing this.” He stood upright to begin.
“Kid Liberty.” A gravelly voice in his ear startled the shit out of Hugo.
He whirled around searching the dark rooftop for several seconds before realizing the voice had come from his mask’s earpiece. Hugo frowned in recognition. “Geist? How do you have this frequency?”
“Don’t engage,” the vigilante ordered, curt and guttural.
Hugo prickled. Why was Geist giving him orders? “They’re criminals. I’m supposed to do nothing?”
The Midnight Son grunted. “And you wonder why you’re a sidekick.”
The clapback stung so sharply Hugo almost couldn’t speak while volleys rang out below. “She sent you to babysit me?”
“Clearly necessary.”
Hugo clenched his hands into fists as they quivered with outrage. Time to show everyone why he wasn't anyone’s sidekick. “Fuck that!” Hugo moved toward the rooftop edge. “I’m gonna—”
Lightning abruptly split the heavens in half, forking down into the alley.
Hugo fell onto his behind, momentarily blinded. As his vision returned, the hail of gunfire and bravado being exchanged turned to screams.
“What the…?” Hugo peeked over the rooftop and his bowels nearly liquefied.
The lightning strike had left most of the gangbangers horribly charred. The survivors were running from a giant man in Norse Viking gear with longish red hair and a bushy beard. He swung a dark iron hammer crackling with electricity, smacking aside any gangbanger in reach with crunching impact. Whoever his hammer struck never got up.
Any gangbanger out of the Viking’s reach had to face a Junoesque woman in golden Greek Hellenistic armor wielding two swords. She hacked them to pieces, a blur of brutal justice.
The only supers Hugo had seen move that fast besides himself were Titan, Blur, Whiz Kid and the idiotically named Accelerator. Ms. Warrior Princess is a speedster.
As the Viking and Greek warrior finished slaughtering, Hugo backpedaled from the rooftop edge, his heart racing. A familiar whoosh of movement dropped behind him.