by H. L. Burke
She reached into the cage for the nearest ferret only to have it flicker out of sight. She froze, her gaze darting desperately from ferret to ferret. One by one they disappeared.
“What the—”
A skittering of tiny claws and a chorus of delighted chittering overwhelmed her. Minuscule, gripping feet clutched at the sleeve of her sweat shirt and rushed up her arm to her shoulders and into her dark hair. She gasped, flailing for the invisible creature. Another one hopped onto her hip and slipped under her shirt. She screeched.
At least two more ferrets—maybe more, it was hard to track the beasts with them being presently transparent—leaped upon her. One poked its cold snout beneath her shirt collar. Another circled her ankles before nibbling on her lower leg.
“No, no, no, get off! No! Bad ferrets! Bad, bad, bad!”
Her appeals fell upon deaf ears, for the ferrets had no mercy.
Laleh slapped at herself. She made contact with the lean, squishy, furry body of the ferret lodged halfway up her left sleeve. It squeaked and started scrambling, its claws digging into her flesh.
Another tangled in her hair. She snatched at it and managed to catch it behind its front legs. She yanked it away from herself only to have its jaws clamp down on her earlobe.
“Yeow!” She toppled over, crashing into the tablet display.
The cage shook and the ferrets scattered, some flickering in and out of visibility just long enough to taunt her before disappearing into the darkened corners of the room.
Breathing heavily, Laleh collapsed.
Footsteps hammered on the hall outside, and the door popped open. A blinding light shone straight in her eyes. She threw her hands over her face.
“Young lady, you are in big trouble.”
Laleh blinked, clearing spots from her vision. She lowered her arms only to catch sight of a now visible ferret perched on top of a filing cabinet across the room. The creature rotated its head to one side before giving a tittering chirp that almost sounded like a laugh and vanishing again.
Well, that couldn’t have gotten much worse. Man, Mom’s gonna be so mad.
Chapter Three
“There! Finally alphabetized.” Prism dusted off her hands before stepping back and admiring the stuffed shelves of her tiny library.
Her husband, Fade, looked up from setting up a computer across the room. “I’ve been afraid to ask, but how much money did you spend on all those books?” He came to her side. “I mean, I saw the deposit DOSA made. Their contribution for this project isn’t going to go far, but it seems like you’ve gotten five or six books a day delivered here since we moved in.”
“Not a red cent.” She grinned at him.
He tilted his head to one side. “As a former thief, I’m impressed. How did you pull that off?”
“With the power of ‘please.’ I reached out to several online author and bookseller communities and asked for teen friendly donations,” Prism explained. “I hope they listened about the teen friendly thing because I don’t have time to read all these books to make sure they’re appropriate.”
Fade smiled laughingly at her. “I hate to break it to you, Luce, but the sort of kids who will end up here have probably seen way worse on their phones than anything potentially in this bookshelf.”
“I know that.” She clicked her tongue on him. “I’m younger and hipper than you, remember?”
“Well, younger anyway.” He winked at her.
Ignoring him, she slipped one of the books off the shelf and read the back copy.
Steampunk treasure hunt and mysterious societies ... might have to read this one myself.
She re-shelved the book. “Even if they have been exposed to things they shouldn’t have, I don’t want to add to that problem, you know? They’re my responsibility, after all. I’m ... I’m trying to be a good guardian here.” She crossed her arms over the swell of her baby bump. At four months along, she’d only recently started to show, though she swore this baby had popped her out quicker than her first.
Maybe we should’ve waited to start the camp until after this little one gets here. How am I going to juggle a newborn and a toddler with watching over and mentoring at-risk teens? Superpowered teens no less.
She shook herself out of it. This camp was her calling, her whole life’s work compressed into one goal: to reach budding supervillains and get them rerouted onto the hero path before it was too late.
Walking across the room, she stared out the window at the eastern Oregon pine forest. A long dirt road stretched away from the two story cabin before disappearing into the trees. While it had been a mild winter, snow still lingered in the shade beneath the pines and in large piles where the snowplow had pushed it to the side of the road. She couldn’t think of a more wholesome way to live, close to nature and far from the noise and bustle of cities.
“I think we’re ready, right?” she said. “I mean, the sleeping quarters are set up. We have an area for them to do remote schooling. We’re well stocked with games and reading material—are we missing anything?”
“Actual kids.” Fade walked over and placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders before kissing the top of her head. “Any word on that?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Not yet. I mean, I know they’re out there. We’ve run into them before with Alma and you know that’s how you started out—finding them, though, is going to be rough. It’s not like they’re going to ask DOSA for help.”
“Yeah,” Fade agreed. “When I was in the life, I wouldn’t have touched anything DOSA with a ten foot pole.”
“It’s not like I expect to have kids knocking at my door, but DOSA made the announcement about the start of the program months ago.” Prism grunted in frustration. “Supposedly every DOSA branch in the country is looking out for underaged villains. I would’ve thought at least one would’ve shown up by now.”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and the speaker started broadcasting, “Ma-ma! Maaa-maaa!”
She pulled it out and clicked on the baby monitor app to view the video feed. One-year-old Ruby bounced up and down in her crib in the first floor nursery, her dark curls moving with her.
“Naptime’s over.” Fade chuckled. “Want me to go get her?”
“If you do, I’ll start lunch.” Prism turned to kiss him.
“Deal.”
Prism headed downstairs into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She’d given up an almost decade long career as a superhero as well as the passion project she’d inherited from her father—the Supervillain Rehabilitation Project, or SVR—to head up this teen version of the SVR. She’d already received multiple offers to return to DOSA, either to lead another team or to work with the SVR again, but her heart was in this new project: Camp Sable.
I just know there are kids out there who need this, who need me. Just because things aren’t starting as quickly as I’d like doesn’t mean it won’t start—someday—soon. Dear Lord, please let it be soon.
She pulled out a large tub of leftover chicken noodle soup and dumped it into a pot on the gas stove. After turning on the burner, she began to rummage through the pantry. Some crackers on the side would be nice, plus Ruby loved saltines.
She’d just found the crackers when her phone buzzed again. She pulled it out and glanced at the display. Arizona number? Who do I know in Arizona?
Expecting a sales call, she momentarily considered letting it go to voicemail, but then decided to swipe to answer, just in case.
“Hello?” she said.
“Hey, Prism,” a woman’s voice answered. “This is Galeforce—I don’t know if you remember me, but we interned together in San Diego—”
“Of course.” Prism brightened. “Man, that was, what, nine years ago? Sorry we haven’t kept in touch. You got transferred to the east coast, didn’t you?”
“For a few years. I’m working out of Phoenix now. Just advanced to heading my own team.”
“Congratulations!” Prism placed the crackers on the counter as Fade en
tered, baby Ruby on his hip.
Ruby flexed her arms reaching for her mother. Prism took her attention away from her phone call long enough to smile at her baby. Seeing Ruby after her naps always made Prism’s heart leap within her. The little girl’s bright blue eyes—inherited from her mother—contrasted beautifully with the bronze skin, a few shades lighter than Fade’s, but darker than fair haired Prism’s. Prism nodded to the highchair, already set up on the other side of the kitchen island.
“Thanks, but that’s not why I’m calling,” Galeforce continued. “A few days ago, we did a joint mission with the Yuma branch and we captured two supervillains connected with the Sand Fox gang. Do you know about them?”
“A little. They didn’t really work as far north as Oceanside, but I heard the San Diego team griping about their border smuggling operations a couple times.” Prism put her phone on speaker and placed it on the kitchen island so she could open a sleeve of crackers.
“Yeah, they’re a thorn in the side of pretty much every southwest team.” Irritation seasoned Galeforce’s tone. “This pair, though—they’re really young.”
Prism snapped to full attention. “How young?”
“They won’t talk, so it’s hard to say exactly. I think they’re brothers. The older one is maybe close to twenty, but the younger couldn’t be more than seventeen—maybe as young as fifteen.”
Prism and Fade exchanged a glance.
“What’s DOSA doing with them?”
“The Yuma team has the lead on this, and Silverhawk really wants them to give up whatever their gang has planned in the area. He’s put both kids through interrogation after interrogation, and I get it. I want the Sand Foxes to go down as much as any of us, but ... I am not comfortable with how he’s treating these kids. He should at least have an advocate in there with them.”
“Legally I think he has to,” Fade broke in.
There was a pause.
“Who’s that?” Galeforce then asked.
“My husband, Fade. Sorry, I should’ve told you that you were on speaker.”
“It’s okay, I guess, though ... I don’t really want Silverhawk to know I’m going over his head here.”
“I get that. This stays between the three of us,” Prism agreed.
“Good. I swear, I’m not usually the kind to sympathize with a villain. As far as I’m concerned, a holding cell is too good for most of them—no offense, Fade.”
“None taken,” Fade said.
Prism cast him a knowing smile. Fade hadn’t been in the villain game since his mid-twenties, over a decade before. Even so, a lot of DOSA types were slow to forget that he’d once spent time on their “most wanted” list.
“Anyway, Silverhawk is intentionally not reporting the kids’ ages. He says because they won’t talk he can’t be sure that they’re minors, but that’s crap. He won’t listen to me, and he’s got more seniority than I do, so I can’t just order him to do the right thing, but I saw the press release about your teen program. You’ve also got influence with the committee.”
“I don’t know if I’d say that—”
“Don’t be modest. All of DOSA knows that Talon’s your godfather. If you ask him to let you step in for these kids, he’ll let you.”
Prism let out a breath. “I’ll see what I can do. If you can find any proof that either of them is underage, though, it would be a big help. If not, you’d really be better off getting ahold of Wildfyre in Oceanside. He’s the closest SVR team leader for the adult program.”
“Thanks. I was hoping you’d help.”
“Anything for an old teammate. Stay safe out there.”
“You too.”
Prism hung up the phone and faced Fade. Fade handed Ruby a saltine cracker which she immediately slammed against her highchair’s tray, breaking it into smaller pieces. She picked up one of these and popped it into her mouth.
“We finally got a lead,” he said.
“Yeah, hopefully. Let me call Talon.” She searched her contact list for her godfather—and the head of the DOSA committee’s—name.
“Lucia!” The older man’s smile was as audible as his southern accent as soon as he answered the call. “Did you somehow develop a secondary precognition ability?”
“Uh, no.” That wasn’t the greeting she was expecting, even from an old family friend. “Why?”
“Because I was planning to call you this afternoon. I have a favor to ask you.”
Out of nowhere, Ruby shrieked and started to bang her tiny fists on her tray.
Prism held her phone away from her face. “Get her some milk.”
As Fade fetched a sippy cup, she slipped from the room. “Sorry about that.”
“No trouble at all. Glad to hear from that precious little one of yours under any circumstances.”
Prism exited the house and sat on the bottom step leading up to the porch. “What did you need?”
“Do you know the Ashe Family?”
“Uh, yeah.” The Ashes were a wealthy and influential sable family. Several of them had used successful DOSA careers to springboard themselves into political office. While she’d never met them—their sphere of influence was mostly confined to the North East—they came up a lot in DOSA gossip.
“Yes, well, apparently the oldest granddaughter of the family has gotten herself into a spot of trouble at school lately. Parents are at their wits end with the girl, and they asked me if you’d take her on as your first subject.”
Prism swallowed. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. They think she needs a firm hand and a good example—”
“But her parents are literally superheroes!” Prism interrupted. “Like, I’m sorry, Talon, but that’s not what I designed this program for. I’m trying to help kids who would otherwise fall through the cracks, who don’t have the resources or the role models to keep out of trouble. If this girl is an Ashe, then unless she’s been going on rampages in her spare time, I can’t imagine this is anything her family can’t smooth over.” She brushed a stray strand of blue-tipped blond hair out of her face.
“Apparently they can’t.” Talon sighed. “Look, Luce, I’m gonna level with you. The committee is looking at Cyra Ashe to fill the empty seat left by The Adjudicator’s fall from grace.”
Prism’s lips twitched. “Oh.”
Committee politics. Great.
“If she gets appointed and it comes out that her fifteen-year-old daughter was suspended from her school for petty vandalism—well, you can see how that would look, right?”
“Yes, but ... it’s still not what Camp Sable was designed for. We’re supposed to be giving a second chance to the most vulnerable. Not doing some sort of ‘scare them straight’ playacting for kids who have every opportunity at their fingertips.”
“Wealth and privilege don’t guarantee immunity from bad decisions—and maybe her parents can smooth things over, like you say, but I don’t think they’re looking for a quick fix. They want a solution that will get her on the right track for the right reasons, and I think that solution might be you.”
“I guess.” Prism’s conscience prickled at her. Was she really going to turn a kid away because of who her parents were? That wasn’t fair. Before she agreed, though, a thought struck her. “All right, but I want a favor from you in return.”
“Name it.”
“I got a tip about a pair of superpowered teens taken into custody in Yuma.” A smile flickered about her lips.
“I hadn’t heard about that.”
“I want them,” she said quickly.
“All right, but why do you need my help with that? Can’t you just call up the Yuma team?”
Prism hesitated. Trying to trick Talon into this could backfire. She’d always gotten what she’d wanted through honesty and integrity. She couldn’t change that now. “They’re being held for questioning because they’re involved with the Sand Fox gang.”
Talon gave a low whistle. “Now that’s a horse of a different color.”
“Sand Foxes or not, they’re teens, Talon. Kids.”
“How old?” he asked.
“I’m not sure.” Prism bit her bottom lip. “My intel is spotty.”
“If they’re under eighteen, I’ll intercede for them. Over that, and it’s up to the Yuma team leader.”
Prism relaxed slightly. That would guarantee her at least one of the boys, assuming Galeforce was correct. “Thank you.”
“I want you out here to collect Laleh Ashe as soon as possible, though.”
Prism stood. “That’s fine.” She could send Fade to get the Sand Fox boys while she took care of that. They’d probably respond better to a six-foot-four dude than a woman who would most likely be shorter than them, anyway. Boys tended to respect strength and size more.
Ending the call she returned to the kitchen to find Ruby gleefully squishing mandarin orange slices between her fingers while Fade ladled the now steaming soup into two bowls.
Prism clicked her tongue at Ruby. “More of that is going on her outsides than into her insides.”
“Maybe she’ll absorb the vitamin C through her skin.” Fade snickered. “What did Talon say?”
“Well, I got him to let me take the kids in Yuma, provided that they’re under 18, but in turn I had to agree to take on the wayward daughter of a political ally of his.”
Fade clicked his tongue. “So we’ve gone from no teens to potentially three?”
“Yeah, presuming the older of the two is still a minor. If he’s over eighteen, we only get the younger one.”
Fade paused. “If Galeforce is right about them being brothers, they aren’t going to like that.”
“It’s not ideal, but we have to focus on who we can save.” Prism took a bowl of soup from Fade and inhaled the savory steam. “My dad used to say that focusing on the losses, the people you couldn’t help instead of the ones you did, was like quicksand for the soul. I’ve always had to keep that in my mind, both in dealing with superhero missions and with the SVR.”
“Your dad had a point, but just sayin’, I wouldn’t want to be you when you explain to the younger kid how he can come with you but his brother is staying in jail,” Fade said.