Covenant

by James Maxey

  “Damn,” said beardless Johnny. “That’s a much better argument than I came here with.”

  “What argument did you come here with?”

  “The whole Spider-Man ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ thing.”

  “I’m doing the responsible thing for the first time in my life,” said Clint. “That, my friend, is the only power I’ll ever need.”

  Epilogue

  Your House Too

  Sarah dropped from the sky over Park Station a little before midnight, descending slowly into the backyard of the house she’d once called home. The lights were on in the living room. She landed at the back door, her fingers hovering inches from the doorknob. Should she knock? Just go inside? One might look too cautious, the other too confident.

  As she decided the safest way forward would be to knock, she heard Carson’s ringtone go off. She listened closely, but except for “Hello,” she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  She waiting patiently, wondering if his call was done, not wanting to interrupt. “Bullshit,” she mumbled. She wasn’t waiting to knock because she was worried about being rude. She was afraid to knock because, after tonight, everything would be over. He would listen to what she had to say, she would listen to what he had to say and then… then she’d probably fly off and never see him again.

  Sarah Buchanan Lee would be done. She might as well erect a tombstone in the family plot.

  She took a deep breath, steeled herself, lifted her hand and froze as the porch light switched on. A second later, the door opened.

  Carson looked out at her. He didn’t say hello.

  “Can I come in?” she asked.

  “Why not,” he said, stepping back to give her room. “It’s your house too.”

  “Is it?” she said, moving inside.

  “I mean, not legally. You signed the mortgage using a fake name and a fake ID. I guess, realistically, the house might not even be mine any more, if the documents were fraudulent. I kind of need to see a lawyer about that.”

  “I’m truly, truly sorry,” she said. “I promise you won’t lose the house. I, um, kind of own the bank that holds our mortgage.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been hearing your name come up in the news. So. You’re a billionaire now.” He moved toward the fridge without looking back at her. “I need a beer. You want a beer? Or is it safe to drink and fly?”

  “Do I need to fly?” she asked. “I was hoping… you know. Maybe I’d stay here tonight.”

  He chuckled as he reached into the fridge. “You know it’s fucked up that you think that, right?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “But I thought… you know.”

  He opened two beers and offered her one. “You know?” he asked before taking a drink. He swallowed, then shook his head. “No. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

  “It’s… it’s a lot to take in,” she said.

  “Why?” he asked. “Why did you come here? Why did you pick my life to ruin?”

  “I didn’t pick your life to ruin,” she said. “I came here because I was running. It was just chance, or luck, or fate, that you’re who I ran into.”

  “Running from the law. That whole Jerusalem thing.”

  “No,” she said. “Running from myself. Jerusalem wasn’t… I don’t want to sound shallow, but Jerusalem really wasn’t something I thought about much by the time I met you. I never blamed myself. Amelia did what she did and there was nothing I could have done to stop her. When I came here, I wanted to be done with the craziness. I wanted to forget I could fly. I no longer wanted to be who I had been. I wanted to be normal.”

  “Well you fucked that up royally,” he said.

  “Yeah,” she said. “How the hell did you know I was standing on the porch by the way?”

  He smiled. “Bud called from the airport. Once I learned who you were, I told him about it.”

  “So, the whole town knows now.”

  “Probably,” said Carson. “Funny thing is, no one has asked me a single question. No one. I don’t know if they’re scared or what. Anyway, since Bud works in the tower, once he learned you’d been flying in and out of town for the last year playing Skyrider, he was able to start finding radar traces. He knew what it looks like when you’re zooming in and out of town. He called to let me know he thought you’d come back.”

  “That’s some good detective work,” said Sarah. “Maybe he should have been the cop in the family.”

  “He gets sick even thinking about blood,” said Carson. “My first night on the job, I was called to the scene of a three car accident involving a pedestrian who got dragged under the fender for a good thirty yards. I think Bud might have followed me into the business if I’d never told him about seeing that.”

  “But you went back to work the day after seeing that,” said Sarah.

  Carson shrugged. “I never thought the job would be easy, or clean. I don’t think I’d quite prepared myself for some of the stuff I smelled that first night but, you know.”

  She nodded.

  “No regrets. I love being a cop. Which is why, you might imagine, I’m not completely thrilled about finding out I married a fugitive.”

  “Well, it’s like the mortgage,” said Sarah. “Technically, I don’t think we’re legally married. I’m sure any court in the land would annul your marriage to someone who didn’t actually exist.”

  “That’s still going to be a hassle,” he said. “All the fucking paperwork. I can’t escape it.”

  “Let’s just skip the paperwork,” she said. “Let’s keep pretending we’re married.”

  “I think we’re past the point of pretending,” he said.

  “You’re right,” she said. “That was dumb of me to put it like that. Because, honestly, I came here to tell you we shouldn’t pretend. We can make this work if we’re honest with each other.”

  “When have I ever lied to you?” he asked.

  “Fair enough. We can make this work if I’m honest. I promise I’ll tell you everything you want to know about me.”

  “To make this work.”

  “Yes.”

  He took a long drink, finishing his beer. He looked down at the bottle, lost in thought. Finally, he looked her in the face. “Why would you think I’d want this to work?”

  “Because you love me,” she said. “And I love you. More than anything in the world, I love you.”

  “Well, I am lovable,” he said with a grin. A look of pain crossed his features. “And so was Sarah Buchanan.” He shook his head. “Who never really existed.”

  “But she did,” said Sarah. “I did. Everything we did together—”

  “Was a lie!”

  “No!” she said. “I mean, it started with a lie. But, Carson, everything we’ve been through together… everything was real. Think about everything we’ve done. I mean… I drained your goddamned wound when you were shot. And you brought me the worst chicken soup anyone’s ever tried to make back when I was flat on my back that winter with the flu. We both sweated side by side fixing this house up. Once a man and a woman have installed a toilet together, it forms a certain bond.”

  He didn’t say anything, just stared down at the floor his arms across his chest.

  “And, look, I didn’t mean to play this card, but let’s just get it on the table. You and I are great in the sack. If anyone, anywhere, at anytime has better sex than we do, wow, I want to meet these people, because they must fucking sparkle.”

  The ghost of a grin crossed his lips, but he still wouldn’t look at her.

  “We’ve lived the better and worse parts of marriage. We’ve done the sickness and health. Why not be in this till death do we part?”

  He finally looked up at her. “How is that even possible?”

  “How is any marriage even possible?”

  “What? You just move back in here? We pretend nothing happened? We pretend, what, that you aren’t a goddamned billionaire superhero?”

  �
�Does the money bother you?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I mean, no! Fuck no. If you’d won the lottery you think I’d complain? But… Christ. You can’t live here. I mean… the town would just fall apart. It’s too much for people to take.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “I can’t live here. So you could come live with me.”

  “Great,” he said. “I come, what? Be your pet? A kept man on a tropical island?”

  “No,” she said.

  “No?” he asked, looking at her sideways. “Because, seriously, I might consider that if you made the offer.”

  “No you wouldn’t,” she said.

  “No,” he sighed, “I wouldn’t.”

  “You’re a cop,” she said. “You’re not in it for the money.”

  “Is anyone in it for the money?” he asked.

  “I’m just saying it’s more than a job to you. It’s who you are. You protect and serve.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “You know those stories about people who show up for work after they win the lottery? I’ve always known I was one of those people. I’m sorry, Sarah. I wouldn’t be happy on some island. My job is who I am.”

  “Which is why I’m offering you a better version of that job.”

  He looked confused.

  “You probably saw Steam-Dragon on the news,” said Sarah.

  “Sure.”

  “We have the designs for her armor, as well as armor we captured from terrorists built with a similar design. We also have a team of geniuses who know how to improve upon it. I’m going to be busy running my family’s business empire. App needs new teammates. A squadron of armored cops are what I have in mind. You’d be perfect for the team.”

  “You have to be joking.”

  “No,” she said. “You’d be bulletproof. You could fly. And you’d be legal, not a vigilante, a fully authorized law enforcement officer with the tools to do some real good. I know it would be a change in scope for you. You’d spend a lot less time filling out reports on traffic accidents and lot more time battling mad scientists with death rays.”

  “You aren’t joking?”

  “No,” she said. “This is a serious offer. It’s a serious offer whether or not we’re still married, or even if you never want to speak to me again after tonight. You’re a good man, Carson. I can’t think of a better person to handle the job.”

  “You know I’ve already got a job,” he said. “I told you the night we met I wanted to make a difference in my own backyard.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “But our backyard happens to be part of a larger world, grand, and scary and sometimes out of control. You’ll still be making a difference, and you’ll be there to remind your teammates why what they do matters. Sometimes, you have to save the world in order to protect your backyard.”

  He rubbed his chin, weighing her words. At last, he said, “I’m going to need another beer.”

  “Take mine,” she said, offering him her bottle. “I haven’t touched it at all. I thought I’d need to fortify my courage, but, you know what? This wasn’t so hard. Talking to you has never been hard. Talking to you makes the world safe and sane. Besides, you’re right. It’s really not a great idea for me to drink and fly.”

  “Did we come down on a firm position on whether you needed to fly back tonight?” He gave her a grin as he lifted the bottle.

  For the first time that evening, Sarah smiled.