Encrypted

by Weaver, Nicole

  Frodo climbed into the tree and settled on a perch above her head.

  "I wish I knew what you were saying when you meow. I heard Miss Zoo swears she can't teach anyone else to talk to cats, which sucks, but she said in her big interview there are still things a Null can learn to communicate better." Samwise tensed under her fingers and sank his claws into her leg. "Ow, ow, stop that."

  A tiny trickle of blood worked its way down her arm. Shit. Jon hates it when I get cuts, can't be damaging the foster kid, might mess up his extra income or make him look bad.

  "It's times like these that make the last few years feel like a dream. What if Mom and Dad never died? What if Nevernoon had never happened and there were no Daemons or powers messing up the world? What if Eddie hadn't become a Villain and been taken away to Supermax Prime, or wherever else they disappear inconvenient people?" She sighed again and pulled a wrinkled and faded photograph from her belt pouch. Eddie and herself, both smiling. The only picture she had of them both together and happy.

  "Sure, Mildred seems to mean well, but Jon doesn't, and I am terrified of going away with Kevin. He says it's for patients and therapists to get to know each other better, but I can't help feeling like he just wants to put me in a spot where I can't get away from him for a few weeks." She shivered, despite the warm day. "It's not sexual, luckily, but I feel dirty after sessions with him."

  Samwise finally relaxed, settling into a soothing purr. I don't think the neighbors will ever understand how much I value them working the evening shift. I think I've spent more time under their tree playing with their cats than they ever have.

  "I should ask your owners someday what your real names are," she said. The cat opened one eye to yowl at her, then returned to its purring.

  A light wind blew through the leaves, creating an ever-moving pattern of sunlight on the ground. Calming. She carefully put the photograph away.

  Samantha wiggled lower against the tree and pulled out her smartphone. "Here I go again, talking the ears off kitties. Funny how that used to be considered crazy...until Miss Zoo came along and proved cats understand more than we give them credit for."

  Suz: Haha, I'm not sure the world is ready for you flying around and lighting trash cans on fire with fricken lasers.

  Suz: Hello?

  Suz: Hey, are you OK?

  Suz: Sam, hey, please respond. I'm worried. You went dark and I heard on the news that a school bus was attacked. Did you ride the bus home?

  Suz: SAM!! Where are you? Is that the bus you were on? They are saying the bus is ON FIRE. Please be safe!

  S: Hey. I'm alive. Crazy stuff went down with the bus, probably be more in the news soon

  Suz: Thank the Goddess. No kidding about the news, it's plastered across every channel. Intense, but no casualties. What took you so long to check in? No burns, I hope?

  S: I'm fine. Trevor got the other kids out and for some reason Scorch wasn't up to murder today

  S: Sorry I worried you. Just about to brave the foster monsters so I won’t be able to text again tonight, full details tomorrow for lunch

  Suz: You better dish! I'm worried the foster monsters will use this as an excuse to lock you down before you can get out of there.

  S: Right. I might have to run sooner to make sure Kevin doesn’t take me away for evaluation first. Its super sketchy

  Suz: K. We can figure it out. Be safe.

  S: Night

  Samantha's tiny jailer protested as she lifted him from free of her lap. Time to brave the lion's den.

  Dumping her smartphone into a semi-hidden pocket on her backpack, she placed the foster monster's flip phone into her belt pouch, then climbed into the lowest branches. Frodo flicked his tail and stalked out of the way.

  Samantha's goal, a large branch that grew out over the back fence, was perfect for getting into Jon's yard. In seconds she was inching her way down the wide branch, tightly gripping smaller branches at waist height.

  "Careful Bitchface, wouldn't want you to fall and hurt your wittle head." The tinkling laughter that followed made the identity of the speaker obvious.

  Christy Brown, queen of the Heroic Cheer Squad, monsters in all but name, and the personal nemesis of the mighty Villain, Phoenix Star.

  "Oh joy, the swamp monster is out to play today. Don't you have a village somewhere that needs terrorizing?" Great, today is the day she catches me sneaking in. Her daddy sends a car to pick her up, so she probably spent the last hour hoping I burned alive.

  Wobbling slightly, Samantha spared a look at the Brown's yard.

  Christy's grinning cherub face hung over the fence a few feet away, technically still in her own yard. Her blonde hair blew gently in the breeze, bleached within an inch of its life and framing the flawless white skin of her hatefully pinched face. "Why take away all your fun? You could impress everyone with another epic fit, like you did the day they told you about your psycho brother going away. That would be perfect for terrorizing the under-educated, Sammy whammy." Her grin widened.

  She knows I hate it when she calls me that. Bitch.

  Samwise charged up the fence, clawing his way to the top. He perched himself on the post next to Christy, licking his paws while he watched her with his one good eye. The other girl didn't seem to care.

  I could use a little help buddy. "Why don't you take your dog with you to volunteer for some human Alchemy. I think it would be a huge improvement to your personality, and your looks."

  Christy blinked. "You are such a weirdo Sammy. You always make up words and other crap, then expect the rest of us to care. Alchemy isn't real and I don't even have a dog." She dropped out of sight.

  "You should be careful throwing around words like under-educated when you don't even know who the Elric Brothers are," Samantha called after her. "I bet you missed out on all the classics. Akira, Full Metal Alchemist, Princess Mononoke."

  Christy popped back into view, frowning. "You wouldn't know culture if it slapped a dress on you and did your makeup, Freak. Besides, normal people hate you because we can sense how messed up you are. It's instinct. Even your foster parents think so. I've heard them talking about what a weirdo you are, and how much therapy you need to fix your wacky brain."

  It hurt, hearing it from Christy of all people. I shouldn't be surprised she's heard them arguing. Jon basically thinks breathing is wrong for me, and he's loud when he's pissed. I just wish Mildred was still on my side, it was bearable then.

  Casually turning away to examine Jon's yard, Samantha wiped her eyes. "Sneaking around like a little troll again. I guess you still want that ever elusive prize of best swamp monster ever."

  The flip phone in her pocket buzzed. Damn it, I have to get inside fast so I can claim I was home already, or I'm going to get it.

  "You can't pretend that one didn't get to you, Freak." Christy smirked and wrinkled her freckled nose. "Even Trevor picked me over you. He isn't into wackos."

  She is standing on a fricken step ladder just to taunt me...and she calls me a freak. I suppose Trevor would be mad if I told her that he just poured his heart out to me and wants me back. "Honey, your opinion is as important to me as the gum still stuck to my shoe. You were a big shot in school, but that's over, and the real world eats swamp monsters like you for breakfast."

  Samantha inched further out on the branch and braced herself for the jump.

  "You think calling me names makes you less of a freak Sammy?" Christy screamed. "Hey, don't you dare ignore me."

  Samantha jumped; legs bent for a perfect finish...until a fist sized dirt clod sailed over and exploded against the side of her head. She landed face first, sliding a few feet across the wet grass. I am so screwed. Soaked, covered in muddy grass, no way I can pretend nothing strange is going on now.

  Tittering laughter was cut short by a yowl of outrage, a scream, and a thud.

  Stifling a laugh, Samantha spit out some grass and a little bit of mud. "See you next fall Princess." She crawled to her feet, brushing off as best she
could. "Never forget, the cats around here like your charming personality as much as I do."

  There was no further noise from the other yard, and Samwise didn't reappear. Thanks buddy. Definitely bringing you a bigger treat next time I swing by your yard.

  She peeled off her wet and muddy gym shirt and stuffed it into her backpack. Jon's house awaited her. Our plucky Villain, newly christened Phoenix Star, having survived an attack by the swamp loving Hero, and a fall that would have killed a lesser mortal, gathered herself for the next confrontation.

  Chapter 6

  Wednesday May 19th, 2010

  The neighborhood technically ended with Jon's dark blue house, even though the road continued into the next neighborhood. The line between the two was obvious since the lot sizes doubled after his place and the single floor homes became grand multi-level affairs. Their immediate neighbor even had room for a garden, a swimming pool, and an enormous garage.

  Jon himself insisted the poor neighborhood ended just before his house. A favorite topic of his being how his trees and fully furnished basement placed him firmly in the richer neighborhood.

  The Browns seemed to think it was a hilarious claim, and generally took every opportunity to rub his nose in the vastness of their wealth. Last year they had even replaced all of their trees along the shared fence when Jon had managed to carefully nurture one of his two trees to a greater height than theirs.

  Samantha had stumbled directly into their feud with her early attempts to be friendly, and Christy had proved enthusiastic in the resulting one-sided rivalry. Samantha and mostly ignored it all, until Christy's father had realized he could use any complaints as an excuse to speak to Jon…and needle him about taking in "homeless" children. Jon had become intolerable after that.

  When she had first arrived, fresh from the orphanage and forlornly clutching her single piece of luggage, Samantha dared hope it would be a safe place. One where she could wait for her real family to find her. Jon made a better secret villain than King Bradley ever did.

  The open kitchen was unremarkable, including the generic landscape paintings and plain oak dining table. Just like Jon himself, the outside of the house implied a richly furnished interior, but the inside was boring and lifeless.

  Silently shutting the door behind her, she headed towards the stairs that led down to her room in the basement. Whew, made it.

  A board creaked under her shoe.

  "Sam, is that you honey? I've been texting you for the last 10 minutes." Mildred's voice drifted down the hall.

  Crap. Technically I'm home on time, just barely, but I'm dirty and I still disobeyed by sneaking in the back. A headache bloomed behind her eyes, warm and throbbing.

  "Yes Mildred, I just need to drop off my stuff in the bedroom." She took another step.

  "Oh honey, please come to the dining room; we are waiting for you," Mildred said.

  Jon's voice, sharp with displeasure, joined hers. "Now."

  "Don't throw your bag down the stairs." Mildred added.

  Samantha's books and papers thudded their way down the stairwell as she dumped everything out. The nearly empty pack fluttered down after them.

  Mildred's sigh was barely audible. "Never mind."

  Keeping her real phone hidden in a household as paranoid as Jon's wasn't easy. After a few near misses, she'd noticed they never touched her trash or messes, always demanding she clean up after herself. A few bits of shredded paper or a random dirty sock quickly became her favorite totems to ward them off.

  An emergency mess served the same function whenever she couldn't immediately put her phone in a secret place. Instant security for her only lifeline out, at the price of a few screams and the rare bruise. I would pay the price at twice the cost.

  Forcing a giant fake smile, she sauntered into the dining room and dragged a chair across the hardwood floor to sit.

  Jon glanced up from his phone, but Mildred was doing her best Stepford Wife impression at the sink, smiling vacantly. When did she start doing that? Last month they were fighting like cats and dogs.

  "If you drag that chair one more time, you won't see sunlight for a week." Jon drawled.

  "Hello Jon, hello Mildred," Samantha chirped. "Sorry Jon, I forgot about the chair. Sorry I'm late. Tried a shortcut through someone's lawn and slipped in the grass." Please don't send me to Dr. Darkle for therapy. She squeezed her legs under the table to keep from digging her fingernails into her palms.

  Taking that as a request for input, Mildred spoke in her new singsong voice. "Oh honey, your nice clothes are all ruined. What are we going to do with you?" She managed to sound both condescending and worried in the same breath.

  She sounded exactly the same a few weeks ago when Jon used a sledgehammer on my bike, mildly concerned and implying it's my fault. It's dumb too, breaking things they bought me. He doesn't want me to actually enjoy the things, he just wants the appearance that I have nice things.

  Jon snorted, eyeing her muddy clothes. "I suppose we will have to take it out of your allowance."

  The only reason they give me an allowance is so they can tell their rich friends that I'm having a typical teenage experience, whatever that means. "You already cut off my allowance."

  He ignored her response and cut to the chase, "Were you there, Sam?"

  "Where?" Samantha's brown eyes met his angry gaze.

  "You know where; the attack on the bus."

  "There was an attack? Sucks to be the survivors. What does that have to do with me?" If he thinks I turned him in to the fuzz, I'll be in for more than extra therapy.

  Mildred folded her hands properly in her lap as she sat down. "I don't know why you even try to lie; you are so bad at it. The police called. Something about threatening the other students and running off without giving a statement."

  "Bad is an understatement." Jon laughed. "I can smell the smoke on you. Unless you also dragged yourself through a barbecue pit on your way through that muddy backyard you claim to have fallen into, you are caught red handed."

  Smiling silently while he spoke, Mildred chimed in when he stopped. "Your birthday is in two weeks, and you'll be an adult then. You should start acting like one. The real world isn't as forgiving as we are, and you fight even our low standards.

  Samantha laughed bitterly. "Why do you pretend to care? At least Jon doesn't hide how he feels about me."

  The foster monsters exchanged a look.

  Shit, friendly would be suspicious, but I might be overdoing the hostility. Play stupid, stay quiet, stay safe. I wish I were better at those things.

  Jon moved his phone to hide his other hand from Mildred, so only Samantha could see the middle finger he extended in her direction. "We are trying to make you into a better person."

  "Of course we care honey-" Mildred stopped herself from adding what she’d been about to say.

  The Hero, his voice rough with arrogance, interrupted another honey-coated lie from his newly turned cohort.

  "According to the policewoman I talked to, you aren't in any trouble. She will drop by in an hour to take your statement, so get cleaned up and be back in that seat in forty-five minutes. You are not to leave this house until then, Kevin's Rules." He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Though if you want to sneak off, it will prove that you need to be sent for a session sooner than we planned. Come to think of it, you are acting up quite a bit today..."

  Not daring to breathe, Samantha dropped her head to stare at the oak tabletop. Waiting, both of them watching her. No fun filled banter this, the Hero went straight for the jugular with his trap. A setup our favorite Villain had grown adept at avoiding. Arguing results in a session, but admitting defeat only allows him to pretend it’s sarcasm and he’ll punish her in some other way for taking him seriously.

  Jon's gaze bored into the top of her head, looking for something he could use to justify cruelty.

  Mildred's dulcet tones broke through the battle of wills. "We worry about you honey. We think you are sneaking off to s
pend time with other kids, even after what happened to your brother, and despite Kevin's Rules."

  "I did exactly as I was told and stopped talking to all my friends, Mildred. You and Jon even checked to make sure of it." Samantha said. I'm not twelve either. I should be allowed to have friends you don't like.

  Mildred continued as if Samantha hadn't spoken. "They are dirty creatures, Villains, and even the 95s, pretending to be good people but still Manifesting their perverse powers. You know the new laws apply to Minions, as much as they do Villains, and we are worried you will be caught up in someone's scheme."

  They obsess about Villains, never realizing they helped make one under their very noses. Like brother like sister, you could say. No matter, I can still text my last friend, since I'm not allowed to speak to her.

  Glancing up for a second, Jon went back to his phone. "Sooner or later, the PCA is going to check on you because of who your brother is. You’d better drop your defiance and follow our rules, or we will have to tell them you aren't fit for regular society. Supermax Prime won't be a kind place to someone like you."

  Samantha held herself still. "I'm sorry, may I be excused? I need to clean up like you said." At least give me that much you monsters.

  Jon studied her poker face. "Maybe that's what you want. It'll be a regular family reunion."

  Mildred sighed. "Yes, but I want all your...well I guess you don't have homework anymore, do you?" She searched Samantha's expression. "Fine, we aren't your maids and I want you to pick up your mess on your way to your room."

  "Yes Mildred. I will, and I promise not to break Kevin's rules. Thanks for the talk." They are marginally less evil when I promise them whatever they want. I don't like it, but it makes me feel better, too.

  They'd been relatively mild about most things, up until Trev had come into her life. Overnight, home went from barely tolerable, to refusing to let her dress or live how she wanted, to mind games and random punishments.