The Cloak Society

by Jeramey Kraatz

  Alex tilted his head back, staring up at the patchwork pieces of sky visible through the canopy of trees. The moon was positioned perfectly, full and luminous directly above him. Thick gray clouds were rolling across the sky, cutting the night light in and out like a slowly blinking strobe light. Focused on the sky, he didn’t notice that the path was curving inward, moving farther away from the street and his only real point of geographical reference. Victory Park had swallowed him completely.

  A faint shadow flew over the path ahead of him, breaking the calm moonlight. It was too fast to be a cloud. Too small. Alex looked up but saw nothing.

  The path he’d chosen was winding and twisted every few yards. For all Alex knew, he might have been charging straight into Victory Circle with every turn. Eventually he spotted a glowing orb in the distance. Alex walked toward it until he recognized where he was from photographs and maps he’d studied. He was in the dead center of Victory Park, and before him, Centennial Fountain was radiant. A handful of wealthy citizens had donated an absurd amount of money to commission a sculpture for the town’s one-hundredth anniversary not too long ago. The result was a bronze sculpture of the legendary Gordian knot, all twisted metal ropes wrapped around a blazing light, water gushing out of the center. Alex found it stunning.

  “You came,” a voice said from behind him.

  Surprised, Alex sprung around, instinctively taking a defensive position. Kirbie stood in her Rangers uniform. She raised her arms in front of her, ready to fight him if necessary, though her expression was one of concern and not aggression.

  “Jeez,” Alex said, relaxing a bit. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “Oh, sorry,” Kirbie said cautiously. “I didn’t realize you were so caught up in the fountain. It’s really beautiful at night.”

  “Yeah,” Alex said. “It is.”

  They were both unsure of how to proceed. Alex had his hands at his sides, his thumb grazing the outlines of the Gasser in his back pocket.

  “If this is some sort of trap, I know this park like the back of my hand, and I’ve got a communicator with me,” Kirbie said. “I can call for backup in half a second.”

  “Calm down. I just wanted to talk,” Alex lied. “You did say that would be okay.”

  He shrugged, trying to look as innocent as possible. Kirbie sighed, raising a hand to her head.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right.”

  As she spoke, Alex concentrated on the Gasser, willing it to float out of his pocket and into the air, where he kept it hidden behind his back.

  “It’s just been a really weird week,” Kirbie continued. “First with the bank and then at the mall. I mean, you’re supposed to be my enemy, but you keep popping up and helping me out. I don’t think I’d be standing here if it weren’t for you. I guess what I’m trying to say is . . .”

  “Uh-huh?” Alex murmured. Kirbie’s focus was on the ground. She was caught up in her words. It was now or never.

  “Thank you,” Kirbie said, letting her eyes meet his. “Thank you for saving my life.”

  Suddenly several strange things happened at once, none of which Alex fully understood. His head felt light and clear. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and there was a feeling in his chest that he had never experienced before, one that bordered both pride and accomplishment. But most puzzling of all, Alex could see Kirbie—not bathed in blue like everything else in his world, but in full color.

  Her blond hair gleamed. Her lips were a soft pink. Even in the dim lighting of the fountain, he could make out her hazel eyes. Alex didn’t move—didn’t breathe—just stood there staring at her, drinking in the colors, feeling happy, for the first time in recent memory. The sight of her was completely disarming.

  He blinked, and Kirbie was once more tinted a cobalt blue. Alex’s head ached, as if two waves had just crashed against each other in his brain. His focus on the device floating behind him faltered, and the Gasser flew backward, plopping into the fountain. He staggered back a few steps.

  “Oh, hey,” Kirbie said, stepping toward him. “Are you okay? You look really pale. Maybe you should sit down.”

  “What was that?” he muttered to himself as he made his way to the edge of the fountain and sat.

  “What was what?” Kirbie asked. “I was just thanking you, and you act as if you were shot or something.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “I just . . . I felt dizzy for a second.”

  Why—how—had he just seen Kirbie in color? When his powers had first manifested, his mother had assured him that one day, when he was fully in control, he’d be able to see things clearly once again. But that was just speculation, and this had felt like quite the opposite of control.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Kirbie asked. “I can take you to the hospital or something. It’s not far away.”

  “No, no,” he said quickly. “Don’t worry about it. I’m already feeling better.”

  Kirbie bit her lip, unsure what else to do.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Alex.”

  “No, I mean your code name,” she said. “Shouldn’t it be, like, Dark Thought or something? I think that blond kid called himself ‘Titan’ about a million times while we were fighting.”

  “Yeah . . . that sounds like him,” Alex said. “He’s an idiot.”

  “I kind of gathered that.”

  Alex chuckled, then, realizing what he was doing, stopped immediately. His mind raced as he fought to remind himself why he was there in the first place. But things hadn’t gone as he’d planned. The Gasser was drenched, surely worthless. What was he supposed to do now? If he attacked her and lost, he’d be thrown in jail. Better to continue talking, he thought. Besides, this was perhaps the first real conversation he had ever had with someone outside of the Cloak Society. Despite everything he was raised to think, Alex found himself anxious to hear what else she thought of the Beta Team and Cloak.

  “I’m not really into the whole code-name thing,” he said finally. “Plus, my last name is Knight, which is kind of cool enough already.”

  “Night. Darkness. Shadows. Sounds about right for someone in Cloak.”

  “No, it’s Knight with a K,” he said. “Like chivalry and King Arthur and all that.”

  Chivalry? King Arthur? What was he talking about? He felt more and more like Misty as the words tumbled from his mouth.

  “You’re Kirbie, right?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.

  “Yeah. That’s me.”

  “Just Kirbie? Aren’t the other Junior Rangers called Thorn and Amp? Don’t try to tell me those aren’t code names too.”

  “Just Kirbie,” she said. “My brother keeps calling me ‘Fauna,’ but I’m holding out for something better.”

  “Animal Girl has a nice ring to it,” he said, grinning in spite of himself.

  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

  “So that guy is your brother,” Alex said.

  “Kyle. Thorn. Yeah, we’re twins.”

  “And he, what . . . controls plants, right?” Alex asked. He could use this information to help flesh out Cloak’s profiles on the Junior Rangers.

  “Yeah.” Kirbie nodded. “He can make them grow or shrink and move around at will. He’s kind of incredible.”

  “The Nature Twins,” Alex said.

  “I’m going to have to arrest you,” she said flatly.

  Alex tensed up, but Kirbie smiled, and he realized she was kidding.

  “So you’re really going to defect from Cloak?” she asked.

  “Well . . . ,” Alex started, choosing his words carefully, “I want to. But I just don’t know that I can. It’s complicated.”

  “Why did you push me out of the way when Titan threw that hydrant at me?” she asked. “Surely that didn’t go over well with everyone else.”

  “No. Not at all. I’m in big trouble now, actually. But it didn’t seem right, you getting hurt like that,” Alex s
aid, feeling a little relieved to admit this to someone who he knew would agree with him. “I mean, Titan was so gung ho about defeating you that I figured he wasn’t pulling any punches, so . . .”

  “Of course not,” she said. “He’s a criminal. The Cloak Society are supervillains. Killing is kind of what they do, isn’t it?”

  “Sort of, but . . .” Alex was having trouble putting into words what he hadn’t dared think about since the mission. But there beneath the light of Centennial Fountain it all came pouring out. “Before now it’s all been imaginary. Like a game. The missions and planning and everything were just things we talked about hypothetically. I know in the end everything will be worth it, and I want to live up to what my parents expect of me . . . but I don’t think I have it in me to kill somebody. Even if they are my enemy.”

  Kirbie stared at him, doubtful.

  “Then don’t,” she said.

  Alex opened his mouth to protest this, but found that he didn’t know what to say.

  Suddenly Kirbie jumped to her feet and stared intently at something in the distance. Her face contorted, but Alex saw nothing but sky, towering buildings, and the reflections of streetlights in mirrored windows. Then he realized that one of the lights was moving in their direction, in front of the clouds, and growing larger by the second.

  “What is that?” Alex asked, standing.

  “Lux. My mentor. One of the Rangers. She’s team leader tonight, patrolling downtown. She’ll be coming to check on me.”

  She turned and looked at Alex. Her eyes were earnest.

  “Do you want to come with me? Back to Justice Tower?”

  Alex stared, dumbfounded by this suggestion. For a half second, he considered it. But despite what he had said to Kirbie, he was and always would be a member of the Cloak Society. It was in his blood. It was written on his palm.

  “No,” Alex asked. “I can’t.”

  “Fine,” she said, visibly disappointed. “But you have to get out of here. If Lux finds out I’ve been talking to you without telling anyone, I’ll be in huge trouble.”

  She turned away from him, taking a crouched stance, ready to soar into the night air.

  “Can I see you again?” he asked.

  She turned and stared at him, trying to make sense of his expression. Alex’s eyes fell to the ground. The words had surprised him as much as they had her.

  “I mean, if you’re around,” Alex continued. “If you’re watching the park. Will I run into you again?”

  “I’ll be here again next weekend,” she said.

  “Okay,” Alex said.

  Kirbie smiled fully for the first time that evening. “Think about what I said. It’s your life, Alex. Not Cloak’s.”

  Alex nodded slowly. “Have a good night,” he said, and backed away, into the comfortable shadows of the surrounding trees. He watched as an oversized golden bird soared into the air, flying straight for the glowing figure in the distance. Squinting, he could just make out the form of a woman in the light, her hair luminescent. Kirbie circled her, flying with exquisite grace, before continuing off in the direction opposite of where Alex was. The glowing woman followed, and Alex watched as they alighted on a rooftop on the other side of the park, tiny specks against the sky.

  Alex’s mind was a jumble as he made his way back to the street. He should have felt unhappy, shamed by yet another failure on his part. But he didn’t. In fact, he felt better about himself than he had all day. His mind wandered to Gage’s earlier caution not to sympathize with the enemy, but he shook this warning away. He and Kirbie had only been talking. There was no harm in that.

  The path eventually led him to the street, but not his original entrance. Instead he stood across from Silver Bank, towering and living up to its name in the moonlight. Alex stared at it for a moment. Then he sprinted across the street and turned, heading toward the safe house, leaving the bank behind him.

  Traveling through the Gloom back to his home, he kept his eyes clamped shut and hands over his ears. He had no desire to see what was lurking in that place. He thought only of the golden-haired girl, and the colors and lightness she had brought to him. Of the Gloom, he preferred to be ignorant.

  11

  Capture the Flag

  The following morning, Alex lay on top of his bed in confusion. Kirbie was the enemy. They were archrivals, destined to hate each other. And yet, talking with her last night had seemed like the most natural thing in the world. She wanted to help him. Was this what the Rangers of Justice were about? And if he was falling for it, did that mean Alex was weak-minded, like the citizens of Sterling City? As he mulled over these questions, his mind kept returning to the skeletal figure in the Gloom. He hated to admit it, but part of him didn’t want to see Kirbie banished to that place. Luckily, the attack on Justice Tower was still months away. His focus had to be getting back on that team. Kirbie would be back at Victory Park next weekend, and he could still turn her over to the High Council. Who knew—maybe with their help, she would defect to their side. He would like that.

  He had just finished brushing his teeth when a knock came at the door. Expecting a wake-up call from Mallory, he walked over to the entryway. But to his surprise, Shade stood in the hallway, looking a bit tired but composed in the long black trench usually reserved for missions. A cup of coffee in a blue mug was in her hand. The sharp smell of dark-roast beans filled Alex’s nostrils.

  “Good morning, son,” Shade said before blowing across the top of her cup. “How did you sleep?”

  “Oh, Mother,” Alex said. “Um, great. I slept great.”

  They stood there for a moment, the steam of the coffee rising into the air between them. She knows, he thought. She knows everything. Alex’s mind raced, building up a mental block and hiding all thoughts and memories of the previous night.

  “Well, aren’t you going to invite your mother in?” she finally asked.

  “Of course, yeah. Come on in.”

  It was rare that his mother stopped by for a visit. Normally, if she needed to speak with him, she’d simply let her voice ring in his head or send a message with someone else. Alex expected that there was some sort of lecture coming.

  “I want to talk to you about yesterday,” she started.

  “What about it?” Alex asked tentatively.

  “About your training. About the way it was handled.”

  “Oh.” Alex exhaled.

  Shade walked around her son’s room. To Alex’s relief, she didn’t seem to notice the piles of dirty clothes on the floor, or general messiness of the room. Instead she stopped in front of the wall where his newspaper clippings and photos were taped. She recognized a few of the headlines. SUPERPOWERED GROUP INVADES MUSEUM GALA. MISSING ART LINKED TO SECRET SOCIETY. MYSTERIOUS ‘CLOAK SOCIETY’: FACT OR FICTION? With her right hand she reached out, tracing the edges of the yellowing paper, until her finger fell on the photo of Alex’s grandfather—her father—on the wall.

  “You know, when I was your age, there was really no one around to teach us how to use our powers. Back then Cloak was different. They were unified, but they weren’t serious. The Society was more like a country club for people with superpowers than the force it should have been. Our founders were people of determination, and of course they had goals, but my father’s High Council seemed happy to forever operate from the shadows. My generation wanted more. We wanted to push ourselves as far as we could, to show the world that we were its zenith. And it cost us almost everything. After Victory Park, I swore that I would never again let someone from Cloak fall because we weren’t prepared.”

  “But what happened at Victory Park wasn’t anyone’s fault,” Alex interjected. “Who could have known that Lone Star was so powerful?”

  Shade nodded slightly, sipping from her coffee cup.

  “Be that as it may, we should never have needed the Umbra Gun to begin with,” she said. “There were so many of us then, with such extraordinary gifts. But we were undisciplined, unprepared. No one had th
e control over their powers that they should have.

  “You may think that your father and I are pushing you too hard, but it is only because we know that you are going to do great things. Even just yesterday, you showed huge progress. You will help bring Cloak into a golden age, Alex. You want that, don’t you? To make us proud?”

  “Of course,” he said. “More than anything.”

  Shade moved to him, tousling his hair.

  “My Alexander. You will be Cloak’s ultimate weapon. Our sword. Titan may be strong, but he is nothing compared to what you will be. People will tremble before you. The country will whisper your name with fear and reverence. When we’re done with your training, you will be the greatest power this world has ever known.”

  She looked into his eyes.

  “I apologize for lying to you about the box, but everything I do, everything any of us do, is for the good of Cloak. And what is good for Cloak is good for you. Do you understand?”

  Alex stared back at her and nodded.

  “Now, get your training uniform on. We’re doing a group exercise in the field today, and you’re expected up top soon. You can thank me later for the way I’ve split the teams,” she said, opening the door and stepping into the hallway. “Make me proud, son.”

  She glanced back at him.