The Black Coats

by Colleen Oakes

  “Proud?” Casey sputtered. “You just had to save our lives!”

  “True,” said Nixon. “But that is no fault of your own. It’s mine. I should have protected you. I should have been honest with you. I should have known the Black Coats would set a trap to teach Thea a lesson.” She turned to Thea. “It was meant to scare you. McKinley wouldn’t have really killed you—she just wanted to scare you—but those men might have.”

  Thea stood up, her head flush with Nixon’s. She hadn’t realized until now that she was almost taller than her president. “You owe us answers.”

  Nixon arched a perfect eyebrow. “That’s fair.” She took a deep breath. “Everything I’ve taught you about the Black Coats still stands. We are an old organization that cares about justice for women. At first, it was just what you do now—normal Balancings.” She paused. “However, over the years, Julie grew restless. She saw that there were some men—murderers—who deserved more than a slap on the wrist or a punch in the face. Julie believed that we were called to bring justice to men who had killed women by giving them the same punishment: death. A Code Midnight.”

  Thea’s blood chilled. Code Midnight. The words that she had seen on Adam Porter’s sheet.

  “Robin and Julie disagreed on this point,” Nixon continued, “and eventually a truce was made, though the decision wrenched the Black Coats in two. The Black Coats continued running under Robin as they always had, and Julie—well, Julie broke off to run the Monarchs, which then seeped out into other branches of the Black Coats. Both organizations have grown to work under the Black Coat umbrella.”

  “So they are real.” Mirabelle stared hard at Nixon with bloodshot eyes, her fear morphing into anger. “The Monarchs.”

  “Yes.”

  Thea took a threatening step toward Nixon. “You were there that night to kill Drew’s dad. A police officer. A man who hasn’t killed anyone.”

  “He was a threat to the organization, and so Julie ordered us to act.”

  “And so you were going to kill him?” Thea was furious now. “So now punishment is not just for men who hurt women, it’s for anyone who gets in the way of the Black Coats.”

  “So it would seem.” For the first time ever, Nixon seemed unsure. “I didn’t know who your boyfriend’s dad was when I went to the Porters’ house; I thought he was another dangerous abuser. I had just been told my assignment by a fellow Monarch when we were en route. It was all very odd. I realize now that they didn’t want me to know. When I saw you there, Thea, I knew immediately that something was very wrong.”

  “Yeah. It’s wrong to kill innocent people,” snapped Thea.

  Nixon sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Please understand; though I agree with the need for the Monarchs, I have long dreaded the day when Julie Westing would take over the Black Coats. Robin had a clear head for the distinction between justice and vengeance.” Nixon shook her head. “Julie, on the other hand, sees only the Monarchs. She doesn’t really care about the Black Coats. She sees Banner, Emperor, and Swallowtail only as a means to supply the Monarchs down the road, whereas Robin loved nurturing these teams of girls who would go on to do great things in the real world. Which I believe you will. Each of you.” She smiled.

  “Go on,” Thea intoned, unmoved by her confession.

  “Julie has proposed an amendment to the Black Coats constitution that will change everything. It makes participation in the Monarchs mandatory.” Nixon fumed.

  The girls were silent. Louise quietly sat up before leaning forward. “I’m not killing anyone. Ever. That’s the opposite of what I’ve spent my life working toward in martial arts. Not you, though. You kill people, right?”

  Nixon squared her shoulders. “Yes, I do. And I had no regrets, at least not until I was sent to kill Adam Porter.” There was a thud in the back as one of their prisoners shifted. Nixon’s eyes darted to the door. “We can’t stay here long. It’s not safe.” She turned to Thea, their eyes meeting. “Thea, you are the problem, which is why Julie sent McKinley to threaten you. In Julie’s eyes, you almost led Adam Porter right to us. You have been unintentionally feeding information about the Black Coats to Drew Porter for months, and Julie felt a price must be paid. Not only that, but Julie wanted me to suffer for defecting from the Monarchs after Adam Porter’s failed Balancing. The best way to do that was to attack my team. She and McKinley set up this botched mission, with the intention of teaching you all a painful lesson. I found out about the trap through a friend on the inside.” Nixon took a deep breath. “That’s all I can tell you now.”

  “That’s all you can tell us? Are you serious?” Thea stepped into the circle now, her fists clenched. “We could have died here at the hands of the very organization that we’ve been asked to serve! Who are the other Monarchs? What about Adam Porter? What is happening to Bea?”

  Nixon nodded her head. “Bea is fine, Thea. Believe me, Julie would never do anything to hurt Bea.”

  “Except when Bea refuses to be a part of the Monarchs. Bea is barely comfortable with what we do! She can’t be a Monarch.” Thea pressed. “Who are they? The Monarchs.”

  Nixon stared at the ground. “Thea, would you ever sell out your team?”

  Thea didn’t even blink. “Never.”

  “Then don’t ask me to do the same. The Monarchs are my team.” She paused. “Were my team. But that’s all done now.” She took a step backward, remorse crossing her face. “This is where I leave you, girls. I can’t help you anymore from here on out. I put you in danger, and I won’t do it again by associating with you. I have some things I need to clean up here in town and then I am moving on.”

  “Moving where?” asked Louise.

  “On.” Nixon’s eyes were far away.

  Casey shook her head. “No! You can’t leave us now. What do we do?”

  Nixon sighed. “I had a tough conversation with Julie a few minutes ago. We came to a conclusion and a truce was declared. At my urging, she passed a resolution that Team Banner is dissolved and no longer a part of the Black Coats. You are free. None of you should have any trouble returning to your normal lives, as long as you don’t speak about anything you’ve seen. She’s afraid of me. As she should be.”

  Mirabelle put her hands on her hips, and Thea was relieved to see her sassiness returning. “And what about Thea and Drew?”

  Nixon’s eyes clouded over. “Julie said this morning that she believes the debt is settled and that this scare was enough. It got out of control too quickly and she may have to answer for it.” Nixon brushed off the lapel of her coat, now smeared with blood. “Adam Porter has been offered a cushy job in Dallas to get rid of his meddling, and I’m sure Drew will go with him. That is the last I heard.” There was a grunt from the back room as one of the men was trying to free himself from Nixon’s elaborate knots. “Team Banner, it’s time to say goodbye. Each one of you, go home. Take a shower. Live normal lives. Work for justice in your own ways.”

  “But how can we?” muttered Mirabelle. “Now that we’ve been through this?”

  Nixon leaned her forehead against Mirabelle’s. “I don’t know the answer to that myself.” After a moment, she pulled back and straightened her coat. Team Banner watched as Nixon slowly fastened each button, all the way to her neck. She tightened her bun and checked her reflection in a small compact, her flawless skin catching the moonlight coming through the windows.

  Thea’s chest tightened when she turned to leave. “Are we going to be okay?”

  Nixon shrugged. “Thea, I think you’ve known for a while that I don’t have all the answers.” She spun on her stilettos. “Good night, Team Banner. It’s been a pleasure. You’ll find your phones by the door, and lock it behind you.”

  Thea watched as Nixon took one long glance at them before disappearing into the back room. Someone began screaming.

  Somehow she still made it home by curfew. When her mother opened the door, Thea fell into her arms, relishing her mother’s warm smell.

  “You okay, ho
ney?”

  Thea nodded, squeezing her tight. “Just glad to see you, that’s all.”

  “Me, too. Your dad and I are heading to bed. He made me watch that new show, where divorced couples are stuck on the boat with each other?”

  “That looks terrible.” What I mean is, I love you and I’m sorry.

  “It was.” Her mom kissed her forehead. “We’ll see you in the morning, yeah? It’s Drew’s graduation, right? Anyway, there’s a plate in the fridge if you want it. Your dad made shrimp tacos.” Thea’s stomach rumbled. She padded into the kitchen and popped the plate into the microwave, glancing at her phone. Graduation was tomorrow. She had almost forgotten. There was still no word from Drew, so she took a deep breath and texted him everything she wanted to say. After Natalie’s loss, she should have known better: the time to say important things was always now.

  I’m sorry for lying to you. You were right—about almost everything. Can we talk after the ceremony tomorrow?

  Then without thinking, she typed:

  Drew Porter, I think I might love you, in spite of it all.

  Thea sat back in her chair, anxiously awaiting any response as the night grew long around her.

  Finally, it popped up:

  See you tomorrow afternoon at graduation.

  Thea let a small glimmer of hope pass through her. Maybe there was a chance that she wouldn’t lose this, too. Still, before heading up to bed she triple-checked the locks and tucked a knife up her sleeve.

  Twenty-Seven

  It was funny, Thea mused: she hadn’t even thought about the last day of school or graduation at all. Wrapped up in the Black Coats drama, entire months of school had passed by in the blink of an eye. She tugged on the hem of her lace dress, admiring the way the creamy white showed off her rounded calves and hazel eyes. Hopefully, Drew would appreciate them as well. As she came down the stairs, her mom clapped. “You look gorgeous, honey!”

  “Next year, this afternoon will look very different.” Oh no. Her dad had tears in his eyes.

  “Oh, Dad . . .” She gave him a hug. “We still have a whole year until that happens.”

  He took a forceful bite of his apple. “I know. Imagining you in a graduation gown just gets me.”

  “Bill.” Her mother sat down next to him and rubbed his arm lovingly. “We don’t have to be sad about that, because we are just going to go to college with Thea. We’re going to be roommates. Our girl just doesn’t know it yet.”

  “I’m leaving.” Thea couldn’t help but be taken in by this happy scene. “I love you guys.”

  As Thea slammed the screen door her mom called out, “Tell Drew and Adam congratulations!”

  If Drew is even talking to me, she thought. She was anxious to see his face, to reassure him that everything would be okay—somehow. As she started her car, a drip of sweat making its way down her forehead, she glimpsed the bag on the front seat. Inside was her Black Coats uniform, and draped over the passenger seat was her black coat. She felt a twinge of sadness but pushed it away. The Monarchs killed people. They had tried to kill Drew’s dad. Her time with the Black Coats had to be through. She pulled out of her driveway and turned up the volume on whatever pop song was on the radio, hoping to drown out her thoughts.

  Roosevelt High School was packed, so Thea had to park in the farthest reaches of the parking lot. Already late, she slipped off her heeled sandals and ran barefoot on the hot pavement, passing by the Angel of the Waters statue, its eyes blacked out with a new line of graffiti. She was almost past the statue when she stopped abruptly. On the side of the statue, a glaringly precise piece of graffiti stood out among the others.

  A black monarch butterfly.

  Thea’s chest seized. Had it always been there and she never noticed it? It was possible. The entire base of the statue was a haven for graffiti. She turned away from it and began running again, hoping that the rhythm of her legs and the sound of the ground underneath them would push the rising dread out of her chest. Maybe it had always been there, the Black Coats marking their territory. She tried to quiet the panicked voice in her head. They’re not here. Everything is fine.

  As she neared the stadium, memories flashed into her mind of early-morning practices—the sun barely creeping over the horizon, everything a foggy lapis blue. Natalie in her sweats, stretching at the starting line, her eyes fixed before her, determination etched across her strong forehead. Thea in awe of her cousin’s strength. It’s a shame, she thought as she made her way through the turnstiles and into the packed bleachers, that sometimes even the strongest women are not strong enough to endure the wickedness of average men.

  She found a seat in the last row of bleachers, trying to find Drew on the field. God, she really needed to kiss him already.

  The valedictorian was already speaking, but where was Drew? Thea craned her neck, unable to distinguish him in the sea of black-robed graduates. She leafed through the program and found his name, along with his graduation quote:

  INJUSTICE ANYWHERE IS A THREAT TO JUSTICE EVERYWHERE.

  —MARTIN LUTHER KING JR.

  Thea shivered under the blazing heat of the sun.

  Thanks, Drew, she thought, for the reminder. A few rows ahead of her she could see the back of Adam Porter’s head, his chin lifted in pride as he awaited his son’s graduation. Hopefully she could avoid him. The sun beat down on the crowd. The valedictorian wrapped up his speech to a loud cheer, and the graduates began to march one after another in an endless parade. The vice principal reminded everyone to hold their cheers until the very end, but that never worked. Parents would not be silenced when it came to pride in their children. Thea’s parents, she knew, would be very loud.

  Thea checked her phone as the names were rattled off.

  “Kela Jacob . . . Mark Jensen . . . Ralphie Jurgen . . .”

  She had one missed call from Bea. A picture of her cheery face popped up on Thea’s phone. She would get back to her later.

  As she looked at her phone she was aware of a slight movement nearby but assumed it was the couple sitting next to her. When she finally looked up, there was no one there, but there was a black envelope sitting beside her. How in the hell? Thea whipped her head around and shot to her feet. In front of her was only the enormous crowd, no sign of anything amiss, but she turned around just in time to see a flash of a black coat disappear behind the bleachers. She ripped open the note written on the same paper that had once invited her to the Black Coats: soft yellows and velvet blacks, marked with knives and butterflies. Please be nothing, she thought. She stopped breathing when she read the words, written in lilting calligraphy.

  Being a traitor has consequences.

  Over the speakers, the names of those walking for their diplomas echoed in the background. “Tracy Paul . . . Kevin Pook . . . Craig Pooley . . .”

  Oh God. Thea couldn’t breathe as she read the words on the page.

  Do you know why we are called Monarchs, Thea? Monarchs drink poisonous milkweed, and in their unique system it creates a poison capable of killing any predator. And those beautiful wings they are known for? That’s where they store their poison. It’s their trap.

  “Drew Porter . . .”

  Thea’s head jerked up toward the stage. No one moved. The principal leaned again into the microphone. “Drew Porter.”

  Silence. The teachers seated onstage shifted nervously. Adam Porter stood up and looked around. Thea ducked before he saw her.

  “Drew Porter, there is a diploma here with your name on it.” Assembled students laughed awkwardly as the principal scanned the crowd. Then he smiled reassuringly. “Happens every year. I’m sure Mr. Porter will come seeking his diploma sooner or later.” They chuckled as he went on to the next name. Adam was making his way down the steel bleachers with an expression of panic on his face. Thea looked back down at the note.

  We’re going to take good care of your handsome little predator, just as long as you bring his daddy here. Otherwise, we’ll see if this boy has some wi
ngs of his own.

  Kisses,

  Julie

  Her heart sank as the stadium blurred into the background, the noise of the crowd overwhelming as she struggled to gather herself in a smothering cloud of terror.

  The Monarchs had Drew. Thea was moving before she was even aware she was moving. Her flying feet carried her out of the stadium, away from the crowds and the cars and the cheery yellow-and-black banners. Her fingers fumbled over the phone as she texted Mirabelle what had happened. She wouldn’t put her team in danger again, but she needed Mirabelle to be her witness in case she never made it home. The car was in sight now. Thea racked her brain.

  She couldn’t call the police. The Austin police force was deeply infiltrated by the Black Coats. If she brought Adam to the house, they would kill him without hesitation; he was the one they wanted. Drew would lose his father, and Adam Porter’s innocent blood would be on Thea’s hands. She wouldn’t do it. The Black Coats had played enough games with her. She had to be a step ahead of them. Think. Think. Think.

  Thea slid into her car and spun out of the parking lot, onto the road heading to Mademoiselle Corday. She watched as her speedometer ticked upward. Seventy-five. Eight-five. Ninety. As she drove she ignored the trembling of her hands, unable to see anything but Drew’s face, her mind stumbling over a messy plan. Go to the house. Find Drew. Leave. As simple as it sounded, Thea knew it was anything but; Mademoiselle Corday was a labyrinth of hallways and hidden rooms. Drew could be anywhere. She would have to search the entire house, which could take hours. Was he hurt, or simply waiting for Thea to come get him? She ground her teeth together, trying to come up with a plan.

  The road diverged in front of her: one lane heading east to the grand, gated entrance of Mademoiselle Corday, and one heading west. That same road that ended at the tree, the one she had come down so long ago, with a black envelope in her hand and a heart desperate for something, anything, to take away the pain. The Black Coats had taken that, twisted it, and used it against her. Damn them. Anger flared through her, but its flames weren’t enough to cover her much stronger fear.