Item Thirteen
Excerpt of article from the Richmond Times-Dispatch, dated June 15, 1917
…there was nary a dry eye to be seen as the throngs crowded the train tracks, waving lace handkerchiefs and giving our boys their final kisses good-bye before they shipped off to Europe.
One mother, identified as Mrs. Patrick St. James of Richmond, fell into such a state of hysterics after seeing her husband and eldest son, Edward, climb onto the train that a local patrolman had to send for an ambulance for fear that she might jump onto the tracks. Her daughter, Mrs. Nella Daniels of Glen Allen, told the Times-Dispatch that Mrs. St. James is recovering and is planning to start a yarn collection drive to send fresh knitted socks to the troops. Details to come.
13
“A minivan?”
Jen stood her ground, though pink tinged her cheeks. “This is what Erin had. Do you have a better option?”
We stood in the twilight, knee-deep in snow, by the dinged-up maroon paneled minivan that had clearly seen better days. Duct tape covered a crack on the back window, which lacked wipers. The dented bumper bore a peeling sticker advertising a local college bar.
“Fine,” I grumbled, massaging the bridge of my nose. My breath rose in little puffs, reminding me that even this monstrosity was better than most of our group sitting in the bed of a truck. “Thank you for getting it.”
She shrugged. “I basically passed Econ 210 for Erin. She owed me a favor.”
A door slammed nearby, and superheroes began to stream down the steps, each bearing a different item. Marco clutched Jillian’s uniform and knives, while Ember had Jen’s tablet, on which she was studying the satellite map of my childhood home.
Reid, who was carrying a sack of food, kept a respectful distance from both of them. When I’d told Marco that Reid was going to be better from then on, he’d told me he was going to give Reid a beatdown for scaring Ember. It had taken pleading, followed by a desperate “Jill wouldn’t want you to,” for him to box my shoulder and retreat to Ember’s side, which he hadn’t left since.
For the first time that I could recall, my muscles weren’t tensed with the physically painful desire to leave—to move forward. Reuben and I had perfected a plan of attack, agreeing on the key detail: every step had to happen under the cover of darkness. We would not leave the parking lot until the sun was behind Baltimore’s buildings, ensuring that our exit would be that much harder to track. I wanted to leave, but I could no more make the sun set faster than I could teleport into my parents’ basement.
Jen smiled as she watched Berenice walk lightly down the steps. Abby hurried behind her, and Berenice turned to greet her teammate. Abby said something that made Berenice laugh.
“Look out for them, won’t you?” Jen said, watching them with a sad smile. “Keep them safe.”
“I’ll keep as close a watch as Berenice will let me,” I said, elbowing her playfully. “You could even say I’ll keep her in my sights.”
“That’s messed up,” Jen said, struggling to hold back laughter. After a few seconds, her smile faded. She tore her eyes away from Berenice to look at me. “God, this whole situation is messed up. You’re all marching off into battle, but most of you guys aren’t much better than kids. You know, I was worried about them knowing about how uncool the stupid van is until I realized that none of them know jack squat about cars. You could tell them that flying cars had been invented in the 1950s and were stolen by moon men and they’d believe it, if you said it convincingly enough.”
The hint of frustration in her voice brought back memories of my own I’d rather have forgotten. “It’s not their fault. They were denied education.”
“I remember the first time I talked to her about…sheesh, what was it?” Jen said, giving her head a shake. “Medicine or something. She started spouting off what was basically eugenics, and why medicine makes us weak. I remember thinking, “How can these people be so dumb?”
In the corner of my eye, I saw Abby whip around and stare, unblinking, at Jen.
“I think it’s time to start packing up,” I said. There was no reason to dive into this subject yet again, even if Jillian wasn’t around to get offended. When I returned, Jen and I would have a long talk over a pitcher of beer. “Is everyone ready?” I asked, raising my voice.
Marco brushed past me and pulled open the van’s sliding door. “You’ll have to pull Reuben away from Gabriela. They’re making goo-goo eyes at each other by the front door.” He hopped in and climbed into the back corner. When Reid followed, Marco pointed wordlessly at the seat farthest from him.
Before Berenice got in, she gathered Jen into a bear hug. Abby hung around the edges, watching with a blank expression. “Thank you so much for everything,” Berenice said into Jen’s short black hair. “I can’t ever repay you.”
Jen pulled back and looked at Berenice, hands still on Berenice’s elbows, and her eyes practically sparkling. “Just come back, okay? Save the damsel in distress, then get back here. I want to hear about how you defeated Beau and all of them.”
Berenice actually blushed. However, before she could reply, Abby stepped up. “Jen say Berenice dumb.”
There was an ugly silence.
“I beg your pardon?” Jen managed.
Abby cocked her head, a tight triumph in her eyes. “Jen tell Trent Berenice dumb.”
Berenice’s head turned back and forth between Jen and me. She broke off contact from Jen. “What? Wh-what is she talking about?”
Abby crossed her arms and appeared to concentrate. “Jen say, how…can…they…be…so…dumb?” She let out a long breath from the effort. “Berenice not know medicine,” she said smoothly. “Jen tell Trent Berenice dumb.”
Jen and Berenice gasped in unison. Berenice stepped back, stricken. “Did you really say that? Just now?”
Jen shot me a pleading expression. “I—I mean, I was talking about stuff that happened in the past—”
Berenice’s eyes darkened. “This again. Are you freaking kidding me? You were telling the medic about big, dumb Berenice’s stupid former beliefs about medicine? What, were you warning him that I might not want to get injected with something?”
“No, it wasn’t like that!” Jen held up her hands and struggled to keep her breathing steady. “Please, it was a passing comment I shouldn’t have made. I don’t think your dumb! We’ve been through this,” she said, exhaustion and heartbreak mixing in a horribly familiar way.
Yes, they’d been through this. I was beginning to suspect that every civilian who’d ever secretly befriended a superhero had been through this.
But Berenice straightened and crossed her arms. “If you’ve got a problem with dumb country girls like me, Jen, why don’t you just go back to hanging out with your lovely college friends? I can say ‘pretentious’, but they can spell it, right? And that’s what matters in the end, isn’t it? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get into the van with the other idiots.”
Without another word, she jumped into the van and threw herself into the seat next to Marco. Abby all but sashayed past us and daintily hopped into the van, sliding into the third and final seat on the back bench. She laid her head on Berenice’s shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.
Jen turned to me, a tear sliding down her face. “I…I…”
I put a hand on her shoulder. “You may not believe me, but I know exactly how you feel.” This mission was rapidly turning into a broken hearts club.
Jen just nodded and shuffled away towards her apartment, her head bowed.
The back hatch of the van shut, and Lark walked up behind me. “Someone call the police, because I’ve just witnessed a homicide. I always knew there was a predator inside Abby, but that was just brutal.” She climbed into the middle row next to Reid and turned around, her arm casually on the back of the seat. “Ab, that wasn’t necessary.”
Abby flipped her off.
Lark waved dismissively and turned around, twirling her collapsed staff. “Ben, tell Reuben I
’ve loaded the rest of the crap into the van and we can go now. That is, if you can disentangle him from Miss Guapa up there.”
I sighed and trudged up the icy steps. As Marco and Lark had said, he was locked in an embrace with Gabriela by the apartment door, staring down into her eyes with such adoration that I felt the urge to look away. I was willing to bet that I could’ve been garbed in a clown costume and they wouldn’t have noticed me.
“I hate to leave without making a decision. Eres mi cielo,” he said quietly. Even I knew his accent was terrible.
Yet, Gabriela sighed with pleasure. “Don’t worry, corazón de batata mameya, I’ll be safe. Jen and I will go to her parents as soon as the roads are clear. We don’t think anyone will follow us. We’re nobodies.”
“You’re somebody to me. You’re the only person that matters. You, and Peewee,” he said, stroking her stomach. “How do you say ‘Peewee’ in Spanish?”
I cleared my throat with as much respect as I could. They both jumped and jerked their heads in my direction, like teen lovers who’d just been caught by a parent. “Um, it’s time to go,” I said. “We’re all packed up, and it’s getting dark fast.”
“I’m coming,” Reuben said, his face falling. He pecked Gabriela’s lips. “It’s time.” He opened the front door of Jen’s apartment—I could see Jen huddled on the couch, wiping her eyes—and watched his wife walk inside. They held hands until the last moment, when she finally let go and slowly shut the door.
“Okay, let’s go,” he said, suddenly brusque and business-like, still staring at the brass numbers on the door. Without waiting for a response, he hurried down the steps towards the van.
He was already in the passenger seat when I opened the driver’s door and climbed in. “Got everything?” I asked the people behind us. Ember passed Reuben the tablet, which still displayed the map of the Trent property.
Marco ignored my question and tilted his head towards Reuben. “What on earth were you guys talking about up there? And what’s a gwa-puh?”
Reuben didn’t look up from the tablet. “We were discussing contingency plans.”
Lark coughed a cough that sounded a lot like “baby names.”
Reuben shot her a glare. “We were not—”
Berenice leaned forward. “If it’s a girl, you’d better name her Berenice. I was the one who saw the robber in the first place. If it wasn’t for me, Gab would be dead and you’d still be chronically single.”
“But if it’s a boy,” Reid said, “name him Ryan.”
“Whatever you do, please don’t name the baby some stupid trendy nature name,” Ember said, making a face. “Give the kid a name people will respect.”
Marco’s incredulous face was priceless. “Your name’s Ember.”
I twisted around in my seat. “Guys. The mission. Focus.”
“Okay, fine, yes, we were talking about baby names,” Reuben cut in, his loud baritone filling the van’s interior. “As in, what I want my widow to name our child if I don’t return from the mission, which is a real possibility. Happy?” He scowled at Reid. “And for Heaven’s sake, we’re not continuing the R thing.”
Everyone had the grace to look embarrassed.
His widow… Guilt slithered in my stomach, though I didn’t want to examine it. I wasn’t asking anything inappropriate of Reuben. He knew what he was doing by joining the mission. Gabriela knew the risks of marrying such a man. Now that the strike team was gone, she was safe.
But was the strike team gone?
Yes, they were gone. They’d been defeated and given a no-questions threat of what would happen if they returned. Even if they wanted to find us, we’d left in such a way that they wouldn’t have been able to track us to Jen’s apartment. Of course they were gone.
“You need to get on I-97,” Reuben said, zooming in on the map. “I’ll tell you when we’re near the exit to the substation.” All of his recent aggravation was apparently gone, too.
“Gotcha,” I said. I started the engine and put the van in drive, then checked the rear view mirror.
Six unhappy people stared off in different directions, all of them doubtlessly wishing they were somewhere else, with someone else, doing anything else. The whoosh of a sent text made my eyes flicker down to Reuben’s phone. His final text to Gabriela read simply: Te amo.
I shoved the gear stick in park and cranked up the heat. “You know,” I said as casually as I could, “We’re going to have the heat up in here for a while. With all the people, I bet it’ll get hot. Rube, can you run inside and get the flat of water bottles on top of Jen’s fridge?”
There was no flat of water bottles on top of Jen’s fridge, but if he went inside, there would be one more minute with his wife. I now knew the value of sixty seconds.
“Uh, yeah, sure, good idea,” he said, placing his phone on the center console. The text screen was still displayed. “I’ll just be a second.”
When he shut the door behind him, the vibration caused his phone to slide off the console and into the foot well.
I leaned down and picked it up, unable to help a smile at the wallpaper: a picture of Gabriela on their wedding day. Before I could tell myself not to, I opened up his picture app and scrolled through his photos. Picture after picture of Gabriela filled the screen, including some which I had to hastily flip by.
An amusing sequence, clearly at dinner in her destroyed home, made me grin—in the first picture he held a glass of red wine, in the second he was sipping it, and in the third he was grimacing. The final picture was a selfie of the two of them in which Gabriela held a glass of wine in her hand and was laughing, while he was nearly green.
You shouldn’t snoop, Benjamin. Ember’s chide cut through my silent laughter. Is this a bad habit from your information gathering days?
You’re one to talk, telepath.
Um, rude.
I pulled up his phone’s internet history. What did a superhero like Reuben do on his phone? Jillian was eternally on her favorite social media app, while Marco watched medical videos, of all things. Ember watched nature documentaries. Reid texted Ember and watched cooking tutorials.
My smile faded as I read Reuben’s recent searches.
Legal rights of widows
Baby names meaning “gift”
How early can baby hear my voice
Can a woman miscarry from stress
I turned around in my seat. Reid rested his head against the glass, his eyes heavy with sorrow. In the back seat, Ember and Berenice gazed off into nothing, both clearly thinking of better days. Abby sat between them, obviously confused and hurt by their silence. Marco had spread out Jillian’s tunic so he could see the emblazoned BATTLECRY on the back. He was running his fingertips over the lettering. Lark held a small nugget of metal in her hand, turning it over repeatedly in her scarred fingers.
I pocketed the phone and turned off the engine. “I’ll be a minute.” I wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular, but nobody questioned me.
My boots crunched in the snow as I walked towards the apartment. I mentally rehearsed what I was going to say, but as I neared the apartment, the words fell out of my mind like sand from a sieve. Was my decision compassionate or just plain stupid? Was there even a difference in this situation?
When I was at the door, I knocked three times and closed my eyes.
Reuben answered. “Sorry, I’m still looking for the flat. Jen says she hasn’t bought water bottles in a while. Are you sure it was on the fridge?”
I put my hands in my pockets. “I, uh, came here to talk about something else.”
He rolled his eyes. “What did Reid do now?”
“Nothing.” I straightened my spine as much as I could. “I’ve decided that…that it would be better if you stayed behind.” I took the phone from my pocket and held it out. “Your part in the mission is over.”
He took the phone and stared quizzically at it. “I don’t understand.”
“You’ve got a different mission now.” Th
e words had sounded less melodramatic in my head.
Reuben stepped out and shut the door behind him. “I made a promise. You helped me protect Gabby, and now I’m helping you save Jillian. Even if you hadn’t helped me, I owe her. You didn’t see me after the tribunal. This is more than duty, this is about honor.”
I swallowed. “If I were in your place, I’d want you to do this for me. I’m sparing you a choice you don’t want to make. Take Gabby and Jen and leave Baltimore. You don’t know if the strike team is gone. That’s the real honorable option.”
“Ben—”
“And on top of that,” I added, my tone evening out, “I’ve got enough lovelorn teammates at the moment. I don’t need my co-commander constantly worried about his wife and Peewee.” I stepped back. “They need you more than I need you.”
I turned and strode towards the stairs. The sun was fully set now, and I needed to leave. Don’t argue, don’t argue, don’t argue…
“Ben.”
I suppressed the urge to swear aloud and turned around. “Yes?” If I had to whack him with the baton Jen had returned, I would.
He was still standing by the door, phone in hand. “Take care of Reid. He’s slipping. And please…take care of my team.”
Perhaps the light changed infinitesimally, or maybe the cold subtly altered my senses. But for a fraction of a second, I didn’t see Obsidian, fierce leader of the Baltimore superhero team. I didn’t see Reuben Fischer, professional older brother and proud son of Couer d’Alene camp. I didn’t even see my new friend.
Instead, I saw a guy. Just a guy standing in an apartment complex stairwell, cold and tired and uncertain about what lay ahead for him and his. He could’ve passed for an older college student as easily as he could a young husband and father. He could’ve been anything. His ambiguity did not diminish him—it strengthened him. He was the embodiment of potential.
I was looking at the first true ex-superhero.
I nodded once and hurried down the stairs. When I was in driver’s seat, I locked the doors and turned over the engine.
Mercury Page 14