Tall, Dark Streak of Lightning (The Dark Lightning Trilogy)

by J. M. Richards

  I eventually wound my way back to the metro station and headed home. At one stop, a young mother and her small child climbed on and sat across from me. The boy seemed to share my love of heroes; his shoes and shirt bore the images of several well-known comic book icons. Old enough to know he ought to stay seated but too young to be good at sitting still for long, he hopped off his mother’s lap and tried to run down the aisle. She called his name sharply, but it wasn’t until the train began to brake for the next stop that he turned toward her. The sudden stop in momentum, which merely made the rest of us lean forward in our seats a bit, caused the small and unsteady boy to topple over. He picked himself up quickly, but seeing a bleeding scrape on his hand, he began to whimper.

  His mother tried to soothe him; in gentle tones she explained that once they got home, she’d take care of his little wound. Without a word, I reached into my bag and found my first aid kit. I pulled out a band-aid, reached across the aisle, and held it out to her. She looked up in surprise, but it quickly turned to gratitude. Flashing me a smile, she then turned her attention to bandaging her son’s scrape.

  I watched her, and that, too brought back memories of Pittsburgh…and a certain young man I’d given more than a few of my band-aids to.

  

  “So, who’s the guy?”

  I rolled over on my bed to face Andy. He stood in my doorway, leaning on the frame. “What are you talking about?”

  He came in and sat on the edge of my bed. “Come on. You’re my sister. You think I can’t tell when you’re thinking about some guy?” If he hadn’t been privy to so many of my mood swings while in the throes of my previous crushes, he might have been oblivious. But all through high school, Andy had been one of my best friends and closest confidants.

  Still, I didn’t answer right away. I sat up next to him and stared at my bare, brown feet. The metallic green nail polish Jill had lent me was almost completely chipped or rubbed off. My toes looked terrible. But I had never worried about a pedicure in Brazil before, even a self-given one. I felt so jumbled up and confused about everything. “Bobeña?” He nudged me.

  I sighed. “That’s right. That’s what I am. A silly girl. You might as well tattoo that on my forehead. Right here,” I motioned with my thumb and pointer finger about two inches apart, “in big, black, bold letters. BOBEÑA. Or just plain IDIOT.”

  He gave me a troubled look. “Anna? What’s with you? You don’t really mind when I call you that, do you?”

  “No,” I snapped. “I deserve it. I am a silly girl. I’m a moron, actually.”

  Andy was silent for a moment. Then, “You wanna tell me about him?”

  I sighed. “His name is Davin.”

  “What kind of name is Davin? I can tell already that this guy is a loser.”

  I gave him a pained look. “He is not a loser,” I told him. “He’s just…confusing.” I told him the story of how we had met, and my big brother listened patiently as I related the stories that made up our evolving friendship. “I really like the guy, and I’m glad we’ve become friends,” I summed up. “The problem is,” I hugged a pillow tightly to my chest, “he just doesn’t see me that way. And I don’t even know why I care. I know he’s dealing with something. I just…I don’t like him simply because I feel sorry for him. At least, I’m pretty sure that’s not it.” I shook my head and shrugged. “But I know I don’t want to keep feeling this way when he doesn’t see me like that.”

  Andy sighed. “That’s tough,” were his words of wisdom. “You know, though, I have to say, as your big brother, that this guy doesn’t sound like he’s worth your time. You deserve someone who treats you like you’re the most important thing. And if he’s always running off, what is that telling you about what’s important to him?”

  “Do you think I’m just a Last Resort friend?”

  He frowned, pondering this. “I want to say yes, but if that were true, I don’t know why he’d bother giving you a Christmas present or a card. Last Resort friends are for getting from, not giving to. I mean, unless he’s a very highly advanced manipulator.”

  “I really don’t think he is,” I told him. “After what happened with Emily, I know I would be able to sense that with others. And I don’t get that from him. I think he wants to be truthful and sincere, but something is stopping him. What that is, I have no idea. I mean, I could be completely wrong, but…I don’t know. I can tell when he’s being dishonest or holding back part of the truth. It’s there in his eyes, like you showed me.”

  “Like I wish I’d never showed you,” he deadpanned, because once he’d explained how to tell when someone was lying, I used to call him on it. Sometimes he’d slip something by me with a straight face, but it was rare. The problem was, he could also tell when I wasn’t being entirely honest, either. He scrutinized me. “There’s something else you’re not telling me. What is it? Spill.”

  I chewed my lip. “You have to promise not to tell Mom and Dad.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Um, no,” he flatly refused. “I will not promise anything of the kind, and you know exactly why. I will, however, use my wise, older-brother discretion. What is it?”

  “I just don’t want them to worry,” I said. “It’s not an Emily-type-thing. It’s…there have just been a few…attacks on campus.”

  He frowned sharply. “Attacks? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m not one of the victims. It’s just…they haven’t caught the guy yet.”

  “And…part of you wonders if your mysterious friend Davin has anything to do with it.” The fact that I didn’t even need to put it into words first, that he just knew what I was getting at, was one of the reasons I always went to Andy. We’d been pretty close our whole lives, and we thought similarly about so much; it was easy for me to talk to him even when I didn’t have all my ideas fleshed out.

  “Is that terrible?” I sighed, covering my face with my hands. “It is terrible. He is a really great guy, and I don’t honestly believe he would ever do that, but….”

  “But you like to figure things out. Right now you’re taking two seemingly unconnected mysteries and trying to piece them together.”

  “So you think I’m crazy.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I just think you need more evidence. You have good instincts, Anna. Trust them, but always try to back them up with facts if you can. For example: does he have an alibi for when these attacks occurred?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “All I really know is that he’s got a secret. He’s lying about something.” I sighed. “It could just be that he’s in counseling or AA or something, and doesn’t want anyone to know. I mean, he’s never been anything but a gentleman with me, and last winter we spent a bit of time together. The campus was practically deserted—he could have done anything to me, but he didn’t.”

  “This attacker—does he have a type? Is he a serial?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I read this one article that quoted a profiler who works with the police, and he said that most likely the Hallway Stalker is an opportunist, some guy who just saw a chance to do something bad and get away with it, and got hooked. Then this other psychologist in another article said it was just as likely that he stalked his victims ahead of time, knew their schedules and routes, because the opportunities were always a little too perfect. But none of the girls had anything in common that either of them could see.”

  Andy nodded slowly. “In that case, if Davin was the Hallway Stalker, you would think he’d have taken advantage of the situation you described.”

  “Exactly. On the other hand, the attacks started happening just after that.” And hadn’t Davin run off that very first night it had happened? He had abruptly left the party for some mysterious purpose, and I remembered watching the news later that night and hearing about the first attack. But why would he run off just to go all the way downtown to assault some random girl? It absolutely did not make sense.

  “He’d have to be Jekyll an
d Hyde,” I went on, shaking my head. How could the guy who barely kissed me, holding me so gently that New Year’s Eve, and who walked me back to my dorm be a psychopathic misogynist? If all he wanted was opportunity, I’d been right there. In the dark. Alone. And all he did was hold the door open for me. “Who he is when he’s with me just doesn’t fit with a psycho who goes around attacking college girls.”

  “Well, no matter what, Anna, I think you need to be really careful. Trust your gut, but look for facts, too. And whatever you do, don’t confront him when you’re alone with him.”

  I rubbed my temples. “I know this is all so silly. I’m making something complicated out of nothing. But thanks for listening. Are you going to tell Mom and Dad?”

  He shrugged reluctantly. “They’ll be worried, if I do.”

  “Which they shouldn’t be, because campus security is tighter now.”

  “That won’t make them feel better if they know you’re hanging out with the guy you think is behind the attacks.”

  I thought for a long moment. “No, I don’t actually believe that Davin is the Hallway Stalker,” I said slowly. “I just had to talk it out with someone who would take me seriously without freaking out. So, thanks for that.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. The truth is, whatever is going on with Davin, it started long before there was a Hallway Stalker on the loose.”

  “And you just have to hope that whatever his issues are, they won’t endanger you?” Andy shook his head and sighed.

  “I don’t really think they will.” When my brother scoffed, I persisted, “I know you think I’m being too trusting, but I’m not. You tell me to trust my intuition, well there it is: my instinct about him is that he is good. Broken, but good. I mean, despite the way he keeps so much to himself, he does care about people. He’s a good friend, too. And when I’m with him, I really enjoy myself. We’ve had a lot of fun together. I feel like I’ve seen a side of him that not many people get to see. And having seen that, I can’t really believe anything terrible about him. To be honest, I really care about him.”

  “Even if he turns out to be a sociopath?”

  “He’d still need a friend,” I said. My brother glared at me. “I’m kidding. I mean, I’m not—he really does need a friend. But it’s only when I’m away from him that these doubts creep in. It’s when he runs off that I start wondering too much where he’s going. When he’s with me, I don’t get any weird, creepy vibes at all. I mean, at all. He’s mysterious, yeah, but I feel totally safe with him.”

  “And I suppose you still want to figure out what his deal is.”

  “Of course I do.”

  Andy sighed. “Geez, Anna. You couldn’t have picked a less complex guy to fall for, and your freshman year, no less?”

  “Told you,” I leaned against his shoulder. “Bobeña.”

  “You’re not an idiot,” he argued. “You just care too much sometimes.”

  “And think too much,” I added.

  “Yeah, that too. I just hope you’re right about him, and he’s really worth your time.”

  “Now you sound like Jill,” I complained.

  “I just know you. Whatever is going on with this guy, chances are you already have it figured out, but you don’t want to admit it. Even though you’re brilliant, you second guess yourself too much, and you let your blind spots get in the way. You talk yourself out of the truth all the time.”

  I scowled at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “Like with Emily. You knew, right away, that there was something off about her. Remember? But you shrugged it off and convinced yourself it was just because you didn’t know her very well. You made excuses for her half the summer before you’d admit she was too much for you to handle. As much as you love figuring things out, sometimes you’re afraid to face the truth. How do you know you’re not doing the same thing all over again with Davin?”

  “Because Davin and Emily are two very different people, for one thing. I’m not afraid to face the truth; I just don’t want to jump to any conclusions. Look, just forget I even brought the Hallway Stalker thing up.”

  “Even if I could, I still wouldn’t be convinced that he’s good for you.”

  “Why?” I tried to keep the resentment and defensiveness out of my voice.

  “Even if he’s not a psycho, he’s still é uma pessoa preguiçosa.”

  My frown deepened. “Did you just call him a slacker?”

  He shrugged, unrepentant. “It seems like he’s causing you more heartbreak than anything, so I have to wonder: how is that a good friendship?”

  “It’s only heartbreaking because I like him as more than a friend, and he doesn’t think of me that way,” I protested. “He’s still a good friend.”

  “Running off and ditching you half the year is what they call good friendship these days?”

  “It’s—” I sighed in frustration. “He’s busy,” I defended, “and I already told you he has issues. But he’s trying. And I’m sorry, but where is it written that only people who have their act together are allowed to have friends? What if I’m supposed to be there for him for a while, and later he can be a better friend to me?” I pulled back to face him.

  He raised one shoulder blade up in a half shrug. “Look, I don’t know this guy. What I do know is that you wouldn’t be the first person to talk themselves into staying in a dysfunctional relationship.” He leaned back on one arm to face me better. “I’m sorry, but I think you deserve better. I hate to see you upset over someone who doesn’t appreciate you. And who may or may not be a sociopath.”

  My unsmiling expression didn’t change. Andy was supposed to be my wise, elder brother, but his words didn’t make me feel better. I knew that if I had been on the other side of the conversation—if a friend had told me some of the things I’d shared with Andy—I’d probably be just as concerned. Why couldn’t I get anyone to see that Davin was more than what he appeared to be? Or was I the one who was blind—was I just seeing what I wanted to see? I wanted to know how my emotions had spiraled so completely out of control.

  Andy put his long, tan arm around me. “He’s out there somewhere, Sis.”

  “Who is?”

  “Your Hero.”

  “My what?”

  “Don’t you remember? When you were about twelve you used to say that you wanted to marry a superhero.”

  I gave a half-laugh. “I forgot about that. That’s funny.”

  “Yeah. Hey, that reminds me: Is it true, those rumors about some kind of superhero out by where you go to school?”

  Something about the juxtaposition of the two subjects combined with Andy’s assertion that I needed to trust my instincts reminded me of my old suspicion that Davin might actually be Dark Lightning. There was still a part of me that thought it was as unlikely as the idea of him being the Hallway Stalker. Even so, I couldn’t seem to stop myself from thinking through the possibility once again.

  “Yeah,” I said slowly, reaching for my scrapbook of articles. “Yeah, it’s true.” I forced a smile and began flipping through the pages of articles I’d collected over the past two semesters, showing them to my brother, who read each one eagerly.

  “This is unbelievable,” he breathed, his fingers tracing each line as he pored over every detail. As he read, I remembered and relieved each one, trying to recall if any of the instances had coincided with Davin’s secretive disappearances, or any of his odd injuries. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed faintly possible.

  “Wait, is this the same guy?” Andy interrupted my musings. “I thought his name was Shadowman. Why are they calling him Dark Lightning now?”

  I bit my lip to keep from smiling as I turned the page and showed him the clipping of the editorial letter I’d written. He read it and then looked up at me, shaking his head and smiling. “Anna, this is amazing. You have a Superhero in your own backyard. That is so awesome!”

  I smiled, my mind still whirling with possibilities. “I know.” What was
it Andy had said moments ago? Trust your instincts, but look for facts.

  “And hey,” he added, giving me a playful shove, “maybe you’ll even get to meet him!”

  “Maybe,” I agreed. And maybe, I thought to myself, just maybe…I’ve already met him.

  Chapter Twelve

  “If we would build on a sure foundation

  in friendship, we must love friends

  for their sake rather than for our own.”

  —Charlotte Bronte

  Davin’s letter didn’t come until almost halfway through the summer, when I’d nearly given up on him. I mean, I had told myself I wasn’t expecting to hear from him—even if he had asked for my address, I was sure he’d forget or be too busy—but all the same I kept rushing to get the mail. I froze when I finally saw it in my hand. He had written!

  I left the rest of the mail on the table and went straight into my room. I closed the door and sat on my mattress. If my hands trembled as I opened it, I didn’t notice because I tore into it so quickly.

  “Dear Anna,

  First of all, I apologize for not writing sooner. Work has kept me busier than I thought it would. Then the rest of the time I just want to relax. I checked some comic books out of the library. I am enjoying them.

  I guess one reason I haven’t written was that I wanted to be able to tell you something interesting, some funny story or something, but my summer has been pretty dull. It’s very quiet here, though not as deserted as it was during winter break when you and I hung out.

  Actually, it turns out that it’s really lame to stay on campus over the summer. Almost everyone else is gone, but I’m still not up to spending three whole months with my parents. Kevin’s around, too, so I mean I have stuff to do and people to hang out and goof off with. But there’s no one to be deep with. There’s no one to be Davin Adam Kowalski with. I didn’t realize how much I’d come to appreciate that until you disappeared for the summer.