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

by J. M. Richards

  “Okay. Thanks, Davin.” I sighed as he walked away, pondering his strange warnings.

  “Babe!” A loud voice interrupted my thoughts. “You bringing that root beer over, or what?”

  I tried not to glare as I returned to our table, but I knew then that I couldn’t go on pretending. Brad was a nice guy, but he wasn’t what I was looking for, and obviously I wasn’t what he was looking for, either. And even though I’d said repeatedly that we were “just friends,” the truth was, I was beginning to wonder if Brad knew how to be platonic with a girl. He was constantly clouding the water with his flirty little gestures—which didn’t really mean anything to him anyway.

  As far as him potentially keeping me safe went, I didn’t need Brad to be my protector. I had friends, pepper spray (somewhere) and a few self-defense tricks up my sleeve. I could take care of myself. All the more reason to cut him loose.

  After that, I intentionally began to put a little distance between us. I found excuses to be busy when Brad would call and want to hang out; I didn’t return all of his calls. I felt kind of cowardly; I knew at some point I’d have to be direct about it, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I put it off as long as possible.

  It was just before finals when Brad finally cornered me, walking back to my dorm after a study session. I saw him, across the lawn, flirting with Stacy, an off-duty RA from my dorm. He was leaning into her, and she was laughing at everything he said. I was hoping to slip into Mercy without him seeing me, but the classmate I’d walked back with called out a hello to Stacy and caught Brad’s attention. He glanced at me and made a motion for me to wait for him.

  While the girl from my study group bounded into the dorm, I figured it was time to come clean. Brad said something to Stacy and sprinted over to where I was, waiting reluctantly and feeling guilty. “Hey, Anna. What’s going on?”

  I shrugged. “Not much. You?”

  He shook his head. “No, I mean, what’s going on?” “What do you mean?” I asked warily, even though I knew.

  “Well, let’s see.” He cleared his throat. “You haven’t returned any of my messages, you always have an excuse to not hang out...I never see you anymore. Are you avoiding me?”

  “Um,” I said.

  “Does this have anything to do with Kowalski?”

  “What?” I was startled.

  “I saw you guys talking the other night in the caf. Did he say something to you?”

  “Wait. You know Davin?”

  “He’s my suite mate. And ever since you two talked, you’ve been MIA.”

  I drew a deep breath, trying to figure out where to begin. “Okay. Let me ask you something, Brad. Am I your girlfriend?”

  “What?—no.”

  “Are we dating?”

  “Um...no, not exactly.”

  “Right. Then explain something to me. Why is it that you can be flirting with Stacy and yet still sound sort of jealous when talking about me and Davin?”

  “What? No, no—Stacy’s just a friend. That’s nothing.”

  I put my hand on my hip and glanced back to where the RA was still waiting. “I’m sure she doesn’t think it’s nothing.”

  “Hey, Anna...I mean, you know I like you, right?”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged. “And I like you too. But...” He sighed. “Here it comes. What is it? You want us to be exclusive or something?”

  I shook my head. “Nah. You wouldn’t want that, and truthfully, I don’t either. Honestly, I think I just kinda need a break from guys right now.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Yeah. Between Chad and you and Davin...” I sighed. “I need a break.”

  “Wow.” He sighed and shook his head. “Well, okay. If you’re sure. But if you change your mind.....”

  I smiled and nodded in Stacy’s direction. “You’ll have moved on to someone else,” I finished for him. “And you know what? That’s okay.”

  Brad hesitated. “You sure?”

  I looked at him steadily. “Yeah, Brad, I’m sure.”

  “Okay, well...guess I’ll see you around. Or...not.” I nodded, forced a smile, and continued into the dorm as Brad resumed his conversation with Stacy. I laughed to myself as I heard her ask, “Who was that?” To which Brad replied, “No one. She’s just a friend.”

  The only thing left to do was break the news to Laurel.

  And Davin. I wanted him to know, too.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “A friend is known when needed.”

  —Arabian Proverb

  Laurel didn’t take the news so well. Neither did Jill, for that matter. Both of them were shocked when I related the conversation to them.

  “When I told you to set boundaries, it was so your relationship could be healthy! Not so you could end it!” Jill moaned. “Brad was such a great guy! And so cute!”

  “His cuteness has nothing to do with it,” I said. “He just wasn’t the right guy for me.” But they kept harping at me about it on the way to lunch the following day.

  “I just don’t get it. You pine away over Davin, who barely talks to you. But when a guy like Brad is right in front of you, you walk away.” Laurel gestured wildly with her hands to express her frustration as she talked.

  “Oh, Laurel. It’s not like Brad was ever serious about me, anyway.”

  “He could have been, you never know. It’s not like you gave him a decent chance.”

  “He had plenty of chances, okay? Brad is a nice guy, but...”

  “He’s too well-adjusted,” Jill put in savagely.

  I stopped for a second and stared at her. “Jill! Is that another shot at Davin?”

  “I’m sorry, Anna. I’m with Laurel on this one. First Chad, and now Brad. It just doesn’t seem right that you keep overlooking decent guys in favor of a guy who—you admit—has some dark, mysterious cloud hanging over him.”

  “Okay.” I stopped, and they halted to look back at me. “Time out, wait a minute. First of all, don’t make it sound like I purposely sabotaged my relationships with Chad and Brad. Things just didn’t work out. And secondly, I really wish you would stop talking about Davin that way. You guys don’t have to like him, but I would hope that as my friends, you would at least give him the benefit of the doubt. Or at least try not to hate him, for my sake.”

  They exchanged glances.

  “The truth is,” I slowly started walking again, “neither one of you have really spent time with him. You don’t really know what he’s like. Because mostly I talk to you about him when I’m confused or frustrated—or both—and that isn’t an accurate representation of him. He can be funny, too. And thoughtful...” I started to think about the way he often looked out for me and others. Most recently, he’d warned me about Brad, and to be careful about the Hallway Stalker. But there were other examples, too. “Did I ever tell you guys about how we first met?”

  “I thought you had a class together,” Jill said.

  “Yeah, that’s right—so did about a hundred other freshmen. We actually met on the way to lunch one day, like we are now, when he—” I stopped, mid-sentence. Suddenly, It had happened to me. I just stood there, rooted to the sidewalk.

  “Anna?” Jill and Laurel had stopped walking, too, and were looking at me curiously.

  “Come on. It’s starting to rain.” Laurel held up a hand to shield her hair from moisture.

  I could see the scene replaying in my mind. “He...he helped some people,” I murmured slowly.

  “Helped them do what?” Laurel asked.

  I didn’t answer. My suspicions and musings about Davin possibly being Dark Lightning that had been building over the last few months came rushing back to me. The missing pieces I’d been stumped by—the how and the why—suddenly seemed in reach. All I could think was, how did he know it was going to happen?

  I remembered him running past me so fast, his black trench coat flapping. And I’d seen that something was about to happen, because it was seconds away from taking place, but Davin...he’d r
un to it. Hadn’t he? Like he’d already known it was going to happen, but how could anyone have known?

  Maybe that was why he’d already been heading out towards Wal-Mart the night I made Misty give him a ride—he’d known the Sheetz was going to be held up. Or why he’d taken me to the South Side on Christmas. I felt a sudden and urgent desire to go back and read my journal, cross referencing my entries with my scrapbook of newspaper clippings chronicling DL’s activity. If he had some sort of spidey sense of his own, that definitely would have given him the last two of three: means and opportunity.

  As far as motive went…Davin could be antisocial, but he wasn’t a sociopath. I knew him well enough to believe that if he knew someone was in trouble and could do something about it, he would. I would have bet my life on it. But before I got too carried away convincing myself of my theory, I wanted to go back through my notes. “Um, I’ll catch up with you guys,” I said.

  “What?”

  “I-I forgot something in my room. One of my notebooks.”

  “Can’t you get it after lunch?”

  “No, no. I need it. I just…there’s something I have to look up. You guys go on ahead.”

  I turned abruptly and dashed back to Mercy. The side door was closest, so I headed for it at a jog and nearly plowed into a student hanging out there. “Sorry,” I mumbled. If he replied from the depths of his hoodie-shadowed face, I didn’t hear it. But what did I care? Stupid guy waiting around for his girlfriend to come out ought to at least stand out of the way.

  I dashed inside and was heading down the hallway when I heard the door slam shut. It seemed a little belated, so I glanced back. At the end of the hallway stood a dark figure. I faltered as I realized it was the guy in the hoodie. Guys weren’t allowed in the hallways of Mercy dorm; really no one without a key card could get in, unless, of course, they caught the door after someone else, someone who hadn’t bothered to close the door all the way. Like me.

  But that still didn’t mean he was allowed to be there. I didn’t know whether to remind him of this, or go and get the R.A. on duty. I couldn’t see his face, but I thought I saw a glint of light reflecting off a pair of sunglasses. I took a couple more hesitant steps down the hall, and he took a few steps nearer. My heart began to pound.

  Suddenly all the reports of girls being followed into their dorm rooms and beaten up flashed through my mind. It had been a couple months since we’d heard any news of the Hallway Stalker; his last victim had been just long ago enough to lure me into a delicate sense of security. But sometimes, walking back to my dorm, I’d get that heebie-jeebie feeling of being watched or followed, and it gave me chills. It didn’t seem rational to link the hooded guy standing in the hallway to the rash of attacks, but my mind made the leap almost instantly.

  I turned to face him, and it occurred to me that I’d seen him standing outside that door several times in the past few months. Usually at night. Before, I’d always assumed he was waiting for his girlfriend, but right then I was pretty sure he was there for something else. I swallowed hard, wondering if I could make it to my room and lock it before he got there. Or would it be better to run for the RA? Then I thought,what could she do? Allie was smaller than I was! He could probably have taken both of us before we got a chance to call security.

  “You’re not supposed to be in here,” I called out to him. My voice didn’t sound as authoritative as I wanted it to. I fidgeted with the strap of my messenger bag, wondering if I had anything with me I could use as a weapon. I couldn’t remember if I still had the pepper spray Jill’s mom had given me.

  The guy in the hoodie didn’t say anything. He just took a couple more steps down the hall and closer to me.

  Run, I told myself, run! But I was afraid; afraid of what he would do if I wasn’t facing him anymore. I stepped backward again and tightened my grip on the strap of my bag. I had no idea if any of the closed doors that lined the hallway held girls who would hear me if I screamed, or if any were brave enough to call security. I looked at the hooded kid again; his dark outline made it hard to describe him. Still, I tried to pick out anything distinguishing in case I had to give a description later. Unfortunately, the most I could come up with was that he was shortish and kind of stocky. And that he was wearing a dark gray hoodie and black jeans.

  I heard music coming from a door a little way down, and I made up my mind to run for it and try to get whoever lived there to let me in and call security. I couldn’t remember who lived there; all I could do was pray she would be a fast-acting, level-headed soul. As I turned and broke into a run, I heard a muffled curse come from the guy behind me.

  “Help!” I reached the door and pounded twice before I was yanked back and thrown against the opposite wall. My head hit the painted cement bricks with a thud. For a moment, my vision swam; even though he was right in front of me, I still couldn’t see his face—at least, nothing distinguishing. Skin, sunglasses, shadows—and then he was reaching for me again, his hand moving toward my throat as if to choke or silence me.

  My adrenaline kicked in. What was it they’d told us in the self-defense class? Use what you have, use your natural inclinations and make them work for you. My hands went up to shield myself automatically, but I remembered my training and quickly clasped them so I could use them to force his hand away from my face. As I brought my arms down, his elbow bent and it brought him closer to me so I could swipe at him with my right arm.

  He stumbled away and shook his head, seeming surprised—but he quickly recovered. As he reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a knife, I could feel a cold sweat forming on the back of my neck. None of the reports had mentioned him having a weapon, and none of the moves I’d learned dealt with disarming an opponent.

  He didn’t lunge at me right away, he just brandished his knife as if to remind me that he was in control. I wracked my brain for a solution, and it came to me. No weapon in my bag? No problem—my whole bag was a weapon. Grabbing it by the strap again, I swung it off my shoulder and through the air toward my assailant with as much force as I could muster.

  My bag of textbooks did pack enough of a punch to disarm him and send him reeling, but he bounced back quickly and pulled it out of my hands before I could swing it again. I crossed my arms in front of me as he advanced again; I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. As he came close I lunged a wobbly kick at him; though I managed to strike at his kneecap, that just seemed to make him angrier.

  He stumbled forward and swung his fist at me. I ducked but used my arms to redirect his blow away from me. After that, I just tried to run back down the hall to the exit. I tripped over my own bag and in the precious seconds it took to regain my footing, he grabbed me from behind once again. I struggled to get away, to twist out of my jacket, but he threw me on the ground. He moved toward me again, but before he reached me, a black blur bulldozed him over.

  I sat up in surprise, pushing the hair out of my eyes. Was I seeing things right? Even though I’d hit my head against the wall, I knew I wasn’t that disoriented. Dark Lightning, famed hero of the ‘Burgh, was attacking my attacker in the hallway of my dorm. I watched in dizzy awe as he pulled my assaulter to his feet and then threw him against the wall. “You really need to learn how to treat a lady, Dude,” he said.

  “Dark Lightning!” the hooded guy gasped. His voice was muffled, as if he was wearing some sort of scarf over his mouth.

  “I know, you’re asking yourself, ‘Why would such an upstanding guy break the rules of Mercy Hall?’” He picked up the guy and began dragging him toward the lounge door. “I guess I thought I’d help take the trash out.” He shoved him into the lounge where Allie gaped in bewilderment. “You—you guys aren’t allowed in there,” she stammered. “I’m going to have to write you up!”

  “Forget about that, Allie!” I said. “This guy followed me in and attacked me!”

  Allie glanced nervously from the phone to Dark Lightning.

  “Not him!” I snapped. Didn’t she watch the new
s? “Him!” I pointed to the chair where Dark Lightning had plunked the hoodie guy.

  “I suggest you call security right away,” Dark Lightning advised her in a deep voice. “And then the police.” As Allie reached for the phone, my black-garbed hero turned to me. “Are you all right?” he asked softly, extending a trench-coated arm.

  My heart was pounding. All around the lounge, girls (and their boyfriends) were staring, whispering, and whipping out cell phones. I didn’t care. I was finally face to face—well, face to mask, anyway—with my hero. Dark Lightning. He took a step closer, seemingly unaware of how bizarre it was that he was standing in my lounge in broad daylight. I nodded in response to his question. “I’m okay.”

  “Good,” he said, but it was nearly a whisper. A deep whisper.

  “It’s Tony Gale,” some of the girls hissed in excited whispers, and one girl even called out, “Hey Tony, take off your mask and let us get a picture!”

  He ignored them, and made no move to take off his ski mask. He just hesitated, looking at me as though my reaction was the only one he cared about. I knew it was ridiculous to even think that, but he just kept staring at me.

  I hesitated a moment before lunging forward. He almost flinched, but when my arms went around him in a hug, he relaxed. “Thank you,” I whispered. I abruptly stepped back and looked up at him. “You saved me.”

  His entire face was covered by that black ski mask— except for two slits for his deep, dark eyes. “You’re welcome,” he said softly, and a pang went through my heart. “Just tryin’ to help…though you seemed to be doing pretty well on your own.”

  Flustered, I looked down, and that was when I noticed a familiar tear in the sleeve of his black trench coat. It jolted my memory and brought me back to reality. I looked back up at him. “Are you okay?” I asked, wondering automatically whether I needed my first aid kit—for either one of us.

  “Yeah. I’m good,” he said. Hesitantly, he reached his hand up to cup my face, but his fingers barely brushed my skin. “I’m just glad you’re safe.” He held my gaze a moment, drawing a breath as though he wanted to say something else.