V: The V in Vulnerable

by Snyder, J. M.

  The salesman reached below the counter and extracted a velvet-lined box. When he opened it, Matt saw the same ring he now wore mirrored in a dozen different sizes. The salesman plucked one from the box and held it out to Matt. “Thirteen.”

  “I’ll take it,” Matt breathed. He could imagine slipping it onto Vic’s finger and almost creamed himself. His pants felt too tight around a sudden erection at the thought. “I’ll take them both.”

  “Are you sure?” Roxie asked. She took his hand and turned it over, palm-side up, to look at the price tag. “God, Matt. Can you afford it?”

  “I want this one.” He dug out his wallet for the coupon and his credit card. “This is it. Vic always said I’d know it when I saw it and this is it, I’m telling you.”

  Suddenly there was a scuffle behind him. Roxie and Matt turned in time to see one of the hoodie-wearing men shove the college kid facedown onto the counter. The other guy pushed one of the women trying on necklaces—she grabbed the jewelry stand and dragged it down to the ground with a crash as her friend cried out. The bell above the door jangled as the third guy entered the store brandishing a gun. “Get down!” he shouted, firing a round at the ceiling. “Now, now, now!”

  The report was deafening. Grabbing Roxie’s hand in his, Matt dropped to the floor, Vic’s ring closed tightly in his fist. “Matt!” Roxie shrieked as the gun went off a second time. “Oh, my God!”

  “Quiet!” the gunman shouted. He turned on his heel, leveling the gun around the store as he locked the door behind him. “Next person who says shit dies.”

  Heart pounding in his chest, Matt wrapped an arm around Roxie’s shoulders and clamped his empty hand over her mouth to silence her. Pulling her close, he hissed in her ear, “Shh.”

  Her wide, black-rimmed eyes stared at him in fear. Now he really wished Vic were here.

  * * * *

  Even though Vic managed to get the strange cloning power under some semblance of control, it still cropped up unexpectedly from time to time. Like when he had pulled his empty bus out of the garage to start his route…a glance in the mirror above him turned into a double-take that almost caused him to swerve off the road when he saw himself sitting in the back of the bus, staring back. “Oh, hell no,” Vic growled, but he couldn’t stop on the interstate to disperse his doppelganger. He settled for hitting the brakes hard once he reached the stop sign at the end of the exit ramp. The motion threw him forward, but it threw his passenger forward, as well. Once it connected with the seat in front of it, the clone disappeared.

  Slowly, Vic shook his head. This was turning out to be a long day, he thought.

  He didn’t know how right he was.

  Shortly after his shift started, he had a bus full of shoppers and students and was heading downtown along his prescribed route when he heard an intermittent noise from the panel beside him. The flat surface held a small, battery-operated FM radio, which Vic kept on low while he drove. Under the radio was a clipboard with paperwork he had to fill out during his day—passenger counts, mostly, though there were forms to report any problems that might arise, and a log he had to maintain as proof he hadn’t taken any joy rides or made many unauthorized stops along the way. The clipboard also held his driver’s license, which he had to have handy in case anyone on his bus requested it at any time, and his city employee badge, as well.

  Somewhere mixed in with all that nonsense, Vic had tossed his cell phone and personal key ring before leaving the garage. If he wasn’t mistaken, the noise he heard sounded like his phone vibrating with an incoming call.

  He didn’t rush to answer it. Matt never called him at work, so Vic suspected it was his boss, wanting to see if he could pick up an extra shift to cover for someone who had called in sick. Vic knew himself well enough to know he wouldn’t say no, but that didn’t mean he had to like working doubles. Though if Matty had reached the point where he knew what rings he wanted to buy, Vic should probably work all the overtime he could to afford them. After all the catalogs and advertisements he’d seen in the past few months, it would be a relief to see what Matt finally picked out.

  The phone stopped its infernal buzz just as Vic slowed in front of his next stop. Amid the bustle of passengers coming and going, he didn’t get a chance to dig out the phone until after he had eased back into the flow of traffic. Then he flipped open the cell, glanced at the missed call, and almost hit the brakes in surprise.

  It wasn’t the office calling him to work over. It was Kendra, an officer with the Richmond police force. Vic felt dread curl into the pit of his stomach as he hit the SEND button to return the call.

  The phone barely rang once before Kendra’s bright voice filled his ear. “Vic, hey.”

  “Kendra.” Vic glanced in the mirror above him to make sure none of his passengers were paying much attention to him. He wasn’t supposed to drive while on the phone—hell, he wasn’t even supposed to have it on him in the bus, but none of the drivers bothered with that rule. “What’s up?”

  He expected her to say she needed backup in a way only he could provide. Maybe there was an accident on the interstate, or a raging fire at the mall, or a broken gas pipe poisoning the old folks’ home. She didn’t call him often, but when she did, the first thing she usually asked was, “What’s your power today?” He’d told her again and again he didn’t want to join the force, that he wasn’t cut out for police work, but just like he couldn’t tell his boss no when asked to work over, he couldn’t tell Kendra no when she asked for help. Whatever it was today, though, he hoped it could wait until his lunch break.

  But she surprised him. Instead of the usual, she asked, “Where’s Matt?”

  Unconsciously Vic took his foot off the gas pedal, causing the bus to slow. “Matt? I don’t know, work maybe? Why?” Kendra took a deep breath, and Vic asked again, “Why?”

  “We got a call about a robbery in progress,” she told him, “and Matt’s car is in the parking lot. I remember it from the night it was vandalized. Now, I don’t know if he’s in the store or not, but things took a turn for the worse once we got here and now we have a hostage situation on our hands—”

  “Where’s this at?” Vic glanced in the mirror and glared at the passengers on his bus. This wasn’t happening, he told himself. Matt was at the gym, where he should be. It was another Jag in the lot, not his.

  Those hopes were dashed when Kendra told him, “Capital Jeweler’s. It’s in a strip mall, though, so Matt might be in one of the other stores—”

  “He isn’t.” Fuck.

  * * * *

  By the time he reached the next bus stop, Vic had made up his mind. This time instead of just idling at the curb, he set the parking brake and stood as if he planned to exit. Turning to face the passengers, he barked, “All right, listen up! Everyone out!”

  Someone near the back moaned. “This isn’t my stop—”

  “Now!” Vic enhanced his verbal command with a mental slap that had all the riders scrambling out of their seats. Because he blocked the front exit, they shoved their way to the rear door. Once there was a bit of a line, Vic pressed the release for that door and harried passengers poured out onto the curb.

  Behind him, someone tapped on the bus’s front door. Vic whirled to glare at a bored businessman who held a Starbucks cup in one hand, his cell phone in the other. When he noticed he had Vic’s attention, he shrugged at the doors. “Well?” he mouthed.

  Vic didn’t think that deserved an answer. He felt his power kick in—physically he leaned down to flick on the Out of Service sign, but he heard his own footsteps as another double clomped down the aisle, checking the seats to make sure no one stayed behind. When the last person slipped through the rear door, Vic’s twin stood at the top of the steps, silently daring anyone to push past him onboard. How little it would take, Vic thought—one touch and the fare would see him vanish into thin air.

  But that scowl kept anyone from coming too close, thank God. Vic took his seat behind the wheel and pulled the door
shut. Then, with barely a look at the traffic behind him, he barreled into the street, hoping the bus’s bulk would keep most drivers back as it usually did. At the curb, the businessman was on his cell phone, probably already reporting Vic’s behavior, but Vic wasn’t thinking of that now. He couldn’t.

  His mind was only on Matt.

  * * * *

  Traffic slowed to a crawl in front of the jewelry store. Drivers rubbernecked as they inched past, staring at the collection of cop cars filling the parking lot as if they’d never seen a police vehicle before. Vic cursed as he ground the bus’s gears, one foot on the gas and the other on the brake to keep from leap-frogging into the back of the car in front of him. As he neared the store, he projected a constant litany, hoping to connect with Matt as soon as he came into range. ::Don’t worry, Matty. I’m on my way.::

  It wasn’t until he managed to pull into the far end of the parking lot that he finally received a response. Matt’s thoughts flooded his own, relief replacing the anxiety that had gripped him since Kendra’s call. ::Vic, thank God. There’s a gunman—::

  ::I know,:: Vic assured him, though this was the first he had heard about any weapons. The police weren’t sure exactly what they were dealing with at this point, and the robbers weren’t talking. ::Kendra gave me a head’s up. That’s why I’m here.::

  ::Just get me out of here,:: Matt thought, his words grim.

  Vic’s bus was too large to fit into a traditional parking spot, but the police had cleared the lot of everyone in the other stores, so he just rolled to a stop horizontally across several spaces and applied the brake. With a hydraulic whoosh, the bus stopped. Vic left the key in the ignition and hurried down the steps, pushing open the door in his haste. He barely reached the sidewalk before two police officers hurried toward him.

  The first was a man Vic didn’t recognize. With one hand on the gun at his hip, the officer called out, “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to stop—”

  “He’s with me,” the other officer called. Vic recognized Kendra’s voice before he saw the wisps of blonde hair peeking from beneath her cap. She hurried to catch up to her fellow officer and stayed the hand on his gun with one of her own. “It’s okay, Billy. I got him.”

  Billy shot Vic a nervous look. “Are you sure about that?”

  Kendra flashed him a bright grin. “Trust me.”

  As the other officer returned to the squadron of police vehicles staked out in front of the jewelry store, Kendra came over to Vic. Gently she touched his arm, her bow-shaped lips pursing into a knot. “I really wish this wasn’t happening. What’s Matt doing here anyway? He doesn’t strike me as the type who goes in for bling.”

  “Long story,” Vic muttered. “How many people are in there, do you know?”

  Kendra shook her head. “Not a clue.” Removing her cap, she pushed the blonde bangs back from her eyes and sighed. “We know nothing about what’s going on inside. We know there are hostages only because of the cars remaining in the lot after we evacuated the other stores. But how many? And how many perpetrators, all told? Are there firearms, explosives, weapons? We don’t know. No demands have been made yet and nobody’s talking to us.”

  Closing his eyes, Vic extended his mind to brush over Matt’s again. ::Hey sexy,:: Matt joked. ::You going to ride in here like the cavalry or something?::

  ::Or something,:: Vic confirmed. ::How many people are in there, do you know?::

  Matt’s chuckle tickled Vic’s spine. ::Have I ever told you how turned on I get when you come to my rescue?::

  Before Vic could reply, Matt opened his mind further and allowed a memory to play out behind his eyes. Vic saw the moment vividly—it was when Matt had first followed Roxie into the store. ::So she’s there, too?:: Vic asked, watching the memory unwind like a silent movie in his head.

  ::Don’t even ask me why,:: Matt grumbled.

  Vic counted the people he saw in Matt’s memory. Including Matt himself and the salesman behind the counter, there were six altogether. Then Matt fast forwarded until the gunman entered, adding three criminals to the head count. Vic relayed the numbers to Kendra.

  “Only one gun?” she asked, scribbling down Vic’s statement on a notepad she usually carried. “Any other weapons? Any other clerks?”

  “Not that Matt saw.” Vic looked at the notepad in Kendra’s hands, then glanced at the cluster of police officers in the middle of the parking lot. “What exactly are you guys thinking of doing here?”

  Kendra shrugged. “Not sure. Now with a gun in the scenario, we don’t want to put those hostages at risk. This would be a great time to bust out any ass-kicking powers you might have up your sleeve, you know.” Narrowing her eyes, she studied Vic closely. “What is the power du jour, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Vic muttered. Closing his eyes, he thought about taking a step to the right and heard Kendra’s gasp when another Vic appeared beside him. From the way he stood, he knew the other officers wouldn’t see his double, but it still made Vic uneasy to use his powers with so many witnesses around. He flexed his arm and elbowed his clone, which popped like a balloon the moment he touched it. “Don’t really think I’m much help today.”

  “Can you do more than one?” Kendra asked. “An army of Vic Braunsons banging on the back door might scare the perps into surrendering.”

  Vic started, “I don’t…know.” Her words gave him an inkling of an idea. It was a long shot, he knew, but it might work. If he could just sneak around the back of the store…

  Kendra gave him a suspicious look. “You have a plan,” she said. “Tell me.”

  “Not a plan, an idea.”

  “Tell me,” Kendra said again.

  Vic shook his head, distracted. The strip mall was constructed in an L shape—the jewelry store faced Broad Street and a short stretch of shops reached out like an arm at the far edge of the parking lot. Where the buildings met ran a covered crosswalk, and Vic suspected a few additional stores were located down the side. He just had to count the number of stores between the crosswalk and the jeweler’s, then hope a corresponding number of back doors opened in the alley behind the building. If he could muscle his way inside, he could probably end this madness.

  Matt spoke up inside him, interrupting his thoughts. ::Earth to Vic. You’re not bullet-proof. Pull a stunt like that and they’ll shoot you. Leave it up to the police, please.::

  He had forgotten his lover was close. His mind was always open to Matt’s, even when he didn’t realize it. He could tune out the thoughts of the rest of the world easily enough, but he never stifled their connection. ::Matty, I have to try. I thought you said you liked me rescuing you.::

  ::I like you alive much more,:: Matt replied. ::Don’t, you hear me? Just don’t. I need you safe. I love you. Don’t play the hero this time. It’s too dangerous.::

  ::I love you, too,:: Vic told him. He felt a mental flush as Matt’s presence enveloped him for a brief moment, the psychic equivalent of a hug. But Vic knew what he had to do. He needed Matt safe, too.

  For the first time he could remember doing so, he consciously blocked off the connection he shared with his lover. The last thing he wanted was to worry Matt. His lover’s fear for his safety would only get in the way.

  He had a store to break into.

  * * * *

  ::Vic!:: When Matt got no response from his lover, he cursed under his breath. “Goddamn it the fuck.”

  He sat on the floor with the store’s other customers and single salesman, backed against one counter and watched over by the gunman. The other two criminals ransacked the store—one used the salesman’s keys to unlock the displays and scoop jewelry into a plastic shopping bag while the other could be heard tearing around in the back room. Beside Matt, Roxie stuck an elbow into his ribs. “Matthew, hush.”

  Shooting a quick glance at their captor to make sure they weren’t overheard, Matt admitted, “Vic’s outside.”

  Roxie started. “Ho
w do you know?” she asked, suspicious. When Matt pointed at his temple, she scoffed, “Bullshit.”

  “He’s outside,” Matt told her, leaning closer to whisper when she turned away in disgust. “Listen to me. Kendra’s one of the officers outside. She knows about Vic—”

  “What about him?” Roxie snapped. “Or wait, is she in on his ‘powers,’ too? Matt, give it up already. Superheroes don’t exist.”

  Matt ignored her. “Listen. I think he’s going to try something to get us out of here—”

  “What? Can’t you ask him?” Roxie tapped the side of his head, the way he had before, but her pointy forefinger jabbed at him roughly. “Is this thing on?”

  He swatted her away, angry. “He’s blocking me. He doesn’t want me to know what he’s going to do.”

  Roxie grunted, amused. “Oh, so you won’t fuck it up? Now that I believe.”

  Before Matt could respond, he heard footsteps coming their way. Suddenly a fist caught in his black curls and yanked him away from Roxie. He turned to find the gun inches from his face. “You want to be first, asshole?” the robber in the hoodie asked.

  Matt glanced up at the kid—he was a good ten years younger than Matt, no older than twenty-three, if that. A badly healed scar scored one eyebrow, giving him three. His hair was shaved close to his scalp, nothing more than a dark scruff over the top of his head, and hollow, round holes expanded the piercings in his ears to an exaggerated size. Then Matt focused on the gun and shook his head, clamping his mouth shut. In his hand, Vic’s ring burned like a promise, and Matt didn’t dare apologize for fear of starting anything he didn’t want to finish.

  Vic was on his way. Even without their mental connection, Matt knew it in his bones. Vic would get him out of this. Matt knew he would.

  His thoughts seemed to spur his lover into action—just when Matt thought the guy before him would pull the gun’s trigger out of spite, a loud crash from the back room distracted him. “What the fuck?” he growled, shoving Matt against the counter.

  Roxie clutched Matt’s arm with both hands, her nails clawing into his skin. “Oh, my God,” she gasped, close to hyperventilating. “Oh, my God, oh, my God, ohmyGod.”