Encrypted

by Weaver, Nicole

  He pushed the pyrokinetic through the back door, Trevor and Nephilim on his heels.

  "Let’s get the other prisoner rounded up and outside for transport." Suckerpunch surveyed the wrecked room. "Has anyone seen Butterfingers? She's going to be blind for a while, unless she found some hand sanitizer."

  Everyone stopped to stare at the still-bloody Hero.

  Cherrybomb chimed in. "Okay, I'll bite. Why hand sanitizer?"

  "I had an inventor friend whip up that black slime. It sticks to the skin in a gooey mess. It's mostly harmless, though it's better if you don't get it in your nose, and it loses cohesion in high doses of CO2, or dissolves in weak alcohol." He noticed the blank look on her face. "Come on, you didn't know hand sanitizer has alcohol in it? What do you read while you are dropping a deuce?"

  "It's soap. Soap has soap in it." Cherrybomb made a handwashing motion.

  "Riiight. Okay, I'll pretend it's soap and check the men's restroom, you check the women's restroom. Stay sharp, she screws with friction and will drop you on your face."

  Cherrybomb held an empty hand out menacingly. "She won't try that unless she wants a cherry bomb in her face. No friction necessary."

  I hope she's still here; I have questions. Why was Scorch, a wanted man with a known face, walking around out of costume in public? What was he after?

  Chapter 26

  Tuesday May 25th, 2010

  Restrained and furious, Scorch stumbled into the light, followed closely by half of Starstuff looking grim and slightly singed. Except Nephilim, who looked great as usual. The smudges of soot scattered across her body somehow adding to the appeal of the friendly smile she flashed for the crowd.

  The manager had spent the entire battle loudly complaining about every burst of smoke or small explosion. Now he switched to following the much taller Scaleface around like a puppy, alternating between peppering him with praise and demanding more information.

  Sycophant. Shifting Star would never lower herself to begging Heroes for help. Crap. I mean, lower herself again to asking them for help.

  The workers from the kitchen seemed a lot more laid back about it. They mostly exchanged jokes with Samantha about the manager's ass kissing technique.

  A short time later, Connor and Cherrybomb emerged, yelling insults and slapping at each other's hands.

  Everyone turned to watch.

  Connor, covered in smudges of ash, splinters, and a few splashes of blood, faced off against Cherrybomb's Mohawk. Every time she tossed her head, it dislodged puffs of dust the wind blew into his face. The Mohawk seemed to be winning.

  "You said she couldn't get away." She pretended to look beneath invisible heavy objects, then jabbed him in the chest. "Yet here we are."

  "Don't poke me Pipsqueak, you'd need a bus to make it stick. I said she couldn't get away unless she found a way to clean that crap off. That's totally different, so take it back."

  "Don't call me, pipsqueak, Stay-puff. You are all marshmallow where it counts." She poked him again. "You get to tell the boss she got away."

  He deflected a third jab and pointed at a nearby dumpster. "Stop poking me Tiny, or I'm going lock you in there and leave you for someone else to rescue."

  Mohawk shaking fiercely, Cherrybomb cupped an empty hand and dipped it towards his face. "If you wanna keep those good looks, you’d better think real hard about calling me anything that means little."

  Scaleface cleared his throat.

  They stilled in unison, then slowly turned to look. The pair of them turned similar shades of pink when they realized the entire crowd had been watching them.

  Dropping her hand, Cherrybomb waved jauntily at the people and sauntered past their leader. "Catch ya later, Stay-puff. Oh, hey boss, Sucker lost the perp. Nothing I could do."

  Suckerpunch scowled after her.

  Trevor took charge of the prisoner at a gesture from their leader, while Scaleface pulled Suckerpunch in close for a few words. Nephilim hurried over as well.

  Samantha watched all this from her hiding spot at the back of the civilians. She'd ducked down there when Trevor came out, but he was completely focused on the prisoner and hadn't noticed her yet. I'm well and truly screwed if Scorch tells them about me, and Trevor might still think to ask me directly, if he sees me. I'd rather not lie to him.

  At a wave from their boss, the Heroes came back together with an ever-more furious Scorch in tow. The Villain calmed down immediately when Nephilim took over from Trevor, while the others spread out toward the witnesses. Trevor went to the manager, and the two of them quickly fell into conversation, gesturing at the damaged building.

  Using the distraction, Samantha snuck over to Suckerpunch and dangled the evacuation clip in front of his blood-smeared nose. "You dropped this."

  "Sure did, in your hand."

  "Well, now you have it back." She smiled. "Nice talk, see you later."

  "Whoa there, young lady. You have to be properly interviewed about this situation. I have a lot of questions."

  "Don't worry about it, I'll come down to the station tomorrow." Tomorrow is the day that never comes.

  "Nope. Deposition has to take place immediately; however, we do have some leeway about where." He pointed down the alley at a flashing sign. "I'm in the mood for French fries, and Bag O' Burgers is the perfect place."

  "I literally just ate and have leftovers." She tapped the salad box. "I'm not hungry, and you have blood and soot all over you. Where I come from, that makes people talk."

  He laughed, gently pushing her towards the burger place. "It's official business Missy."

  She planted herself in front of him. "Fine, then let’s get one thing straight. You keep talking down to me with pet names and I'll stick around just to find a way to make you regret it."

  He stopped, momentarily serious. "Fine. Miss Samantha Gray, please accompany me to a place where I can get food while we talk. I am recently returned from a life-or-death struggle with one of Arbor City's most powerful Villains, and my Manifestation runs through calories at a horrific rate. I won, by the way."

  "Thank you. I like you, but that pet name crap gets on my nerves. Please use my actual name. I had to fight too hard for it to let it go now."

  "Sorry." He studied her face while they walked. "So, it is a crappy opening line, but did you know you have a greenish bruise on the side of your head? It can take a week or two for a bruise to turn green like that, but I didn't see it before. Were you wearing makeup to hide it a few days ago?"

  "I don’t know about any bruises, but I'm fine."

  Suckerpunch nodded, and let it go.

  The lady at the cash register froze when they walked in, the color draining from her face at the sight of a bleeding Hero.

  Connor held up his badge. "It's okay Ma'am, Suckerpunch here, no autographs please. There was an incident down the road, but the perpetrator was safely subdued and arrested. I am interviewing this witness. Your place of business will not be affected."

  He ordered drinks for both of them and food for himself, then they found seats in the corner.

  Samantha detoured to fill a small cup of water and pick up extra napkins. She took the seat next to Connor, clutching her precious to-go box in her lap while she lightly cleaned the worst of the blood from his face. She listened to his slow and steady breathing as she worked, her skin tingling where she touched the warmth of his neck and face. "You are so nice, why do you hang out with a bunch of Heroes?"

  He lifted one eyebrow. "That's where the good guys are, well, mostly." He chuckled. "The main reason is that I want to join the Daemonhunters. They used to let me help out now and again in California, but they won't let me join permanently; not unless I have a solid record as a Hero or in the military. I'm not a military kind of guy; too many rules."

  The minty scent of Connor’s aftershave clung to her fingers, heady and distracting as she lifted her drink. She shook her head to clear it. Focus on the important stuff damn it. "Wow. You must have a serious Manifestation to
fight Daemons."

  "Nothing too crazy, just strong, tough, and a bit faster than your average Joe. I can take a hit from the smaller Daemons, and not die. At least, not unless it stuck me in its mouth and started chewing." He paused and shivered at the memory, then briskly went on. "The Villains down south stopped letting me trick them into fistfights when word finally got out about how tough I am, but the guys up here don’t seem to have figured me out yet. I can probably keep goading them until they figure out my old code name."

  "I'd like you more if you weren't a Hero, but aren't you worried about your secret identity? I hear the Daemonhunters don't really care about those."

  "They care a little, just not as much as the Heroes and Villains do." He said, "Even the bad guys are happy to have their local Daemon's taken care of, hopefully before they get eaten. Daemons don't care if it's a Villain or a Hero, a Prime is a Prime is a tasty snack."

  I can't trust him, as much as I want to. If he finds out they were after me, he'll interrogate me and then arrest me.

  "Speaking of destroyed cities, are you sure you have time for a lunch date while the Villains are roaming free? Maybe I should let you get back to that stuff." She stood up.

  Suckerpunch held out his hand but didn't quite touch her wrist. "Please stay? I have time for a couple reasons. First, Scorch was the most dangerous of the lot. Pyrokinetics are like that. Second, I have a pager in case of emergencies. Last, I really do need to ask you questions, I'm just saving them for after the fun stuff."

  Reluctantly, she slid back into her seat.

  He frowned, visible through the stylized grin of his mask. "I suppose we should get to the important stuff soon, rather than later."

  She nodded.

  His lips turned up into a small smile. "Why did you bail on me Friday? It was the smell, right? Like I forgot to wear deodorant and you were too embarrassed to say something."

  "Ha. Serious questions only? No, I realized what time it was, and I had to get home. It was already too late though." She reached reflexively for her phone and sighed when it wasn’t there.

  His frown came back, deeper. "So, it has nothing to do with that gigantic bruise?" He leaned to the other side. "Wait, change that, two bruises. This one is long and narrow, like someone hit you with a stick."

  "Bruises? I told you, I don't have any bruises." She ran her hands across the side of her head and had to catch herself on table. The room spun in one direction and her stomach in the other. Bit back bile and bits of food. I will not throw up in front of a Hero. I will not. The pain left her clinging to the tabletop until the room slowed down. For some reason, she thought of lightning and water.

  He watched her carefully. "Sure, then I guess we won't talk about what might have caused bruises like that, right after you stayed out too late. I suppose I also won't be finding out who did it, and I definitely won't be helping them learn to never, ever, do that again."

  "I didn't know I had any bruises. I really don't remember where they came from and I had a pretty rough morning. You saw how lunch went, that’s been my whole week."

  "It's abuse Samantha. I'm a Hero precisely to make sure this kind of crap doesn't get past the people who should be fighting all of the monsters. Not just the ones that look scary and blow things up."

  There is no way Connor meeting the foster monsters ends well for me, if I even knew where they went. She paused in thought. Did Jon leave because he knew those guys were coming after me? "You're not a Hero to me. You are the awesome guy who helped me mess up the map and then hung out with me. I like you—and I do need your help. I'm sorry. I lie and I break the rules, and you don't even know what I really am."

  Unsmiling, he dipped the last bite of his burger in the fry sauce, staring into her eyes while he swallowed it. "I'm willing to find out."

  "Thank you. I can't go any further though, without telling you what I am." She sighed.

  Connor put his hand on hers. "Samantha, I know who you are—and, if you mean your past, I've known about that since Saturday."

  The world tilted again. She yanked her hand free of his. "You knew about me? Then why did you ask me out again?"

  "I asked you out at the school because I like you, and—" He reached out and brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, "—I'd like to take you on more dates after this one."

  Sinking deeper into her seat, she swept her hair forward again, hiding her eyes. "I didn't tell Trevor. Jon said I lied to him and they punished me for it. How did you know?"

  He reached for her hand, and this time she let him hold it. "I'm sorry Samantha. I read your file."

  She flinched but didn't pull away. "That's sketchy."

  "I'm sorry, but it is protocol. It is required for Heroes who find themselves drawn to civilians; in case a Villain tries to get close to us or we are compromised in other ways." He paused. "It must have been tough being a transgender kid, but you had good parents who loved you. Your file says they took you overseas for surgery when you were sixteen, just before the accident. I can only imagine how much losing them hurt."

  "It still hurts. I think it always will." She shrugged.

  "Maybe, but it is the past. What matters is the future, and not only do I think you are pretty, but also amazing and fun to talk to. I'd like to see you again after today, if you are okay with that." He looked deep into her eyes and smiled.

  She shivered, but in a good way. "I... I don't know what to say. Life is pretty complicated right now, but I like you a lot. Can I think about it?"

  Connor's eyes crinkled in the cutest way when he smiled. "Definitely. Take your time. Now, what's the other stuff you need help with?"

  Relieved, she waited until he wiped his hands on a napkin and then handed him Eddie's picture. She stole his largest French fry while he looked at the old photograph. "It's my brother, Eddie. He disappeared a few months after Nevernoon. My foster parents claimed he was one of the first Villains, and they locked him up, but they always acted a little weird about it. Recently, I realized they might have been lying, so I was going to ask Scaleface if he could find out what really happened. It's just that now I'm scared he is going to find out about me too."

  "We aren't going to judge you. You might not like Heroes that much, but we take an oath to protect everyone equally," Connor said. "That and I already had the PCA run the check on you, so there is no need for anyone else to run one."

  Color slowly crept back in her face. "Thank you, that does help, but I would rather not give anyone a new reason to learn more about me. Someone told me you are a pretty smart guy. Can you help?"

  "I can look into it. Among other things. I am guessing he has the same last name you do?" He added sheepishly, "I actually did skim the parts that weren't specifically about you."

  "Yeah. I only have one brother and if my surgery is in my file, then he's definitely in there too." She stuck out her tongue. "You should give me your file so we’re even."

  "Your surgery wasn’t in there, just your name change and the date of an overseas medical trip. I put two and two together for the rest, though I might let you check mine out in the name of fairness." He held up the picture. "It's going to take a few days, maybe a few weeks, but I will find out what happened to him. Can I keep this until I see you again?"

  Beaming, she squeezed his hand and looked deep into his gorgeous honey-brown eyes. "Please keep it safe, and thank you, this means everything to me. Now, what are the official questions you need to ask?"

  "Please don't be mad—" Smiling bashfully, he moved his hand to run it through his hair, but stopped when he remembered his mask was in the way. "I don't have any more questions. I just needed to find out where those bruises came from and I didn't think you'd want to get dragged to base for that, unless you somehow know what was so important to Scorch that he’d risk a trip downtown in broad daylight when he knew we were already on alert for him."

  She blushed and changed the subject. "I'm serious, please don't talk to Jon about the bruises, or anything else. I'll be e
ighteen in like, nine days; then it won't matter." She pulled a pen out of her belt pouch, hesitated, then wrote her phone number on a napkin. "I won’t be able to pick up, but I can still check my voicemail."

  "Email too? Just in case I need to—" He stopped talking as he glanced behind her.

  Trevor pulled up a chair.

  "You two are in so much trouble. Leaving the scene of a crime, and Sucker walked out on any number of responsibilities. What if our prisoner escaped while you were on a date?"

  "Buzz off, Battleplan," Suckerpunch growled.

  "We're busy, Trevor," Samantha added.

  "Right. Right, somehow still on official business, and totally not a second date, right? Don't deny it, I'm not stupid enough to believe you, and neither is the boss." He scooted closer to the table to stare down at Samantha. "The manager seems to think Scorch was after you. Said you were family."

  "Well, we aren't related, and I would never call those sketchy bastards family." She moved her chair a few inches away from him.

  Suckerpunch dropped his hands in his lap and sat very still, eyes darting between the two of them.

  "It's a pretty serious allegation if you consider they work for the Mafia. Family has special meaning to people like that." Trevor took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I need to take you in for questioning."

  She slid out of her chair so she could face him head on. "I don't know what you are talking about. The first time I saw Scorch was when he tried to kill us both and flambéed Miss Clarke. I would never work for him."

  "This is an official PCA investigation, Gray. I can't bend the rules for anyone. You need to come with me." Trevor put his hand on her wrist.

  Gripping her pen in her clenched fist, Samantha's muscles shivered with pinpricks of Manifesting power. Shifting Star would soon discover if the pen was mightier than the sword. "I helped people at the bus, and you need to stop touching me."

  Trevor glanced at her arm with a puzzled frown but didn’t release her. "Maybe, maybe not, but you made no secret of your fascination with Villains. Joining them is exactly the kind of thing you would do if a Hero—" he pointed at himself "—pissed you off at the wrong time."