Halfway Heroes

by Dustin Martin

After washing her dress and returning it, Lydia was free for the rest of the day. Not really in the mood for homework, she accompanied Wren to the game room, bringing her camera along. She’d made a habit of taking it with her as much as possible in case a means of escape caught her eye.

  The game room was fairly crowded. Lydia supposed everyone was trying to let off some steam or distracting themselves from grief. The atmosphere was pretty gloomy. Lydia and Wren found an empty spot in the corner. Lydia whipped out her camera and snapped a couple of pictures as Wren cheered on two people playing a video game. She switched back and forth, spurring on one competitor and then indiscriminately cheering for the other side. The players jolted when Wren shrieked encouragement in their ears.

  Lydia still felt in shock from the day’s ordeal. She’d heard that Kirk had died a horrible death. Some claimed he had choked to death, which Lydia attributed to Heather or another Brigade member squeezing the life out of him. Others had heard he’d burned alive. Something to do with his suit malfunctioning. Possible other causes were raised, too, but none were proven. Although the various rumors of how and why floated around, everyone agreed he’d been attacked. Lydia knew it had to be the fault of the Brigade.

  The thought of an attack by terrorists terrified her. The same people hunting her had killed Kirk in a supposedly gruesome fashion. Staying at the Cave or trying to run and hide would do no good. She had to reach Rooke and cure herself as fast as she could. She couldn’t treat the world like it was made of fragile porcelain— her life was on the line! Her breathing quickened with anxiety. She had to leave.

  Chill out, she told herself. Take things step by step. First things first: she had to discover a hole—a break in the Cave’s defenses. However, she had no clue what or where that could be, which worried her. Lydia needed to settle down so she could think clearly.

  Talking to Wren would help, and Lydia called her name. It took several tries before Wren finally tore her eyes away from the game. “Is Sylvia an agent, too?” Lydia asked, setting her camera down.

  “Sort of,” Wren said. “She works here, mostly, helping people keep their abilities under control. She’s sort of a second-in-command to Arthur. When one of them isn’t here, the other one is. She usually helps train new agents, too,” Wren added, turning back to cheer on the competitors.

  Lydia held up her camera, planning to take a picture of Wren. It was a little difficult using only one hand, but she’d managed thus far. Jando leaned over Lydia, hanging his head upside-down in the view. “Make sure you get my good side. It’s not too hard, since every side is.”

  She laid her camera down. “What do you want?”

  He hopped over her chair and into a seat of his own. He had traded his clothes at the memorial for a T-shirt and jeans, much like everyone else. He folded his hands and leaned over to Lydia. “Oh, I was watching you and—”

  “So, your voyeuristic nature applies to watching as well as showing?” Lydia said teasingly.

  “Ha, ha.” He turned to Wren and jerked his thumb at Lydia. “I quite like this one. Anyway,” he said, facing Lydia again, “I saw you playing with your camera and figured I’d show you a place where you can get some amazing shots. Shots of the entire Cave. That is, if you’re up for it.” He looked at the cast on her left arm.

  Wren sported a large goofy grin, and Lydia had her suspicions as to why. Yet the thought of some good pictures intrigued her. She could use a break from examining nooks and crannies as possible exits in favor of some normal photography. She nodded and Jando led her out of the game room.

  It wasn’t long before they were between the dormitories and the Center. Jando led them to a steep cliff ringed off by bars. Attached to the bars was a sign forbidding anyone from climbing over the bars. Jando glanced at the security guard station near the entrance. The guard, if he was looking, would have a perfect view of the two teens, but at the moment, his back was to them.

  Jando climbed to the top of the bars and reached down for Lydia. She slung her camera and bag over her shoulder and then clasped his hand. To her surprise, the skin on her arm grew transparent and began to disintegrate into thin air. Then it vanished completely up to her shoulder. The empty space continued to fill out her sleeve. She wiggled around, bewildered by the phenomenon until Jando laughed. Oh, right, she remembered. The vanishing act was Jando’s special ability.

  He hoisted her up. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

  “Show-off.” Lydia rolled her eyes. But she did chuckle at his joke. She looked at her arm. It had been weird seeing nothing there, but she’d felt no different during the trick.

  The cliff was embedded into the rock wall and there were plenty of standing- room ledges on its side. Jando hopped onto one and helped Lydia up. “It’s not too bad,” he said, jumping for another large jutting base nearby. “But Arthur thinks people might fall here.” He leaned over the edge of his spot, stretching out for her.

  Lydia took a running leap and he caught her easily. “They don’t?” she asked as he helped her up.

  “I never have,” he said. “They’re just being overly cautious.”

  They continued to the top. The sight of the flat surface was a relief for Lydia. Her arm felt like it had been on a torture rack, pulled to its limits by Jando’s jerks to lift her. She sat down on the top. Jando spread his arms toward the Cave below. “What do you think?” he asked. “Nice, isn’t it?”

  It was a spectacular view. Lydia could see absolutely everything. The people down below were like little toys, moving about on their own. All of the buildings were far off, since the cliff stood high above most of them. They were on the same level as the Center’s top floor. Lydia wondered if this was the sight that Arthur saw from his upper office each day.

  Jando plopped down next to her. Lydia checked her camera and began to take pictures of the place. He’d been right about getting some good shots. She was definitely pleased. “Thanks for bringing me here,” she said, focusing on the Center below.

  “You’re welcome.” He scooted closer, leaning his head back as if enjoying a cool breeze. “I like to come up here sometimes. It’s really relaxing.”

  “As long as you don’t fall off,” Lydia said, gazing over the edge. Her best estimate was that they were fifty feet high.

  Jando waved her off. “You’d have to be pretty clumsy for that to happen. Don’t worry though. I’ll make sure you don’t fall.” She could feel his hand snaking around behind her. “How long have you been into photography?”

  “Since I was a kid,” she said, moving forward and away from his hand. She swiveled the camera to the entrance. The guard was standing, operating some controls inside. His mouth was moving, too. Who was he talking to?

  “You like it? Planning to do it professionally?” Jando asked, coming closer.

  “I’d like to,” Lydia said, adjusting the camera settings. She turned to him. “What about you? Have any hobbies?”

  “Not really,” he said. “I play chess sometimes and sports here. But back home, taking care of my brother and sister didn’t leave me much time for a hobby.” He snapped his mouth shut and looked elsewhere.

  “Where are your parents?”

  “My mom works two jobs to support us,” he said slowly. “So she trusted me to take care of them.”

  “And your dad?” Jando’s face hardened. He didn’t answer, so Lydia dropped the question. “Sorry.”

  “No, it’s fine,” he said, turning away for a moment. When he looked at her again, he had cheered up. “So what else do you like to do in your spare time?” he asked as she took some more pictures.

  “I read sometimes,” she said. She didn’t register his hand creeping around her. She was too focused on the Cave’s entrance. What was the guard doing?

  The entrance rumbled—a low, sleepy growl—as the tall semicircle gate lifted up, clanking and clacking as if its locks were being opened one by one. Lydia jumped to her feet, accidentally stepping on Jando’s hand. He yelped, pulling
his hand back. She apologized and continued to watch the entrance through her camera. Several large white semi-trucks poured in, driving slowly along the twisting road. They were too far away for her to see who was driving them, but they stopped close to a shutter door on the Center’s side. There was a ramp leading up to the shutter door and dozens of crates piled around. Several paved pathways were connected to the ramp. The door lifted and a few employees walked out to meet the trucks.

  “What’s that?” she asked Jando.

  He was massaging his smashed hand. “What?”

  “Those trucks.”

  “Supply trucks,” he said. He checked his hand. “Ouch. You really got me good.”

  “Sorry,” Lydia said again. “You said they’re supply trucks?”

  “Yeah,” he said, standing beside her. “They bring food, equipment, and whatever else we need. Then they take away the empty crates there.”

  “How often do they come?” Lydia saw one of the trucks backing up to a pathway to unload its cargo. The driver grabbed a dolly and wheeled a few crates up the ramp and set them down inside. The rest of the drivers parked nearby and started to do the same.

  “About every two weeks or so. Why?” Jando asked.

  “Just wondering,” Lydia said. She zoomed in as closely as she could. When one truck finished unloading the crates of fresh supplies, the sealed, empty crates were collected and loaded from the Center. Some were large crates the length of a person.

  Lydia smiled as she watched. She’d finally found a way out.