SuperNova: Heroes of Arcania

by Liz Long

  “I’m not going anywhere.” It sounded more like a plea than a statement. My panic couldn’t be ignored much longer. My knees quaked.

  “It would certainly upset your father and this city,” he mused. My entire body froze up as I saw he was now seriously considering it.

  “Don’t take her!” Starling shrieked. She jumped out from behind me and shoved Fortune with all her nine-year-old might. “You can’t have her. You’re a bad man!”

  “You’re right. This message is better.” Fortune tucked his gun away and my knees wobbled a little in relief. He was going to let us go. He met my gaze and when he spoke, his tone couldn’t be more plain. “You will not tell anyone about me or I will kill the rest of your family.”

  “The rest—?”

  Then Fortune’s hand went up and thin, bright blue lines of light shot from his palm with a crackle. Heat sizzled my arm closest to Starling, who fell to the ground in a heap; I hadn’t even had time to react. A split second later, the neon flash was gone and only Fortune remained.

  Someone was screaming. Several moments passed before I realized it was me. I dropped to the ground and listened for Starling’s heartbeat, finding none. Before I could question my sanity, I looked in shock at her shirt, at the palm-sized burn mark over her stopped heart. Fortune sighed as I cradled her tiny body in my arms.

  “Silly little girl,” he said. “Reminds me of someone I knew once.”

  I looked up in time to see him slip out the door. A terrible wailing filled the small room, clanged in my head like a siren. My mother later told me it took four officers to tear Starling from my arms.

  6 MONTHS LATER…

  I stared blankly at my dinner plate, unable to bring the fork to my mouth. Mom’s homemade macaroni and cheese had been one of my and Star’s favorite dishes. Now I didn’t even want to look at it. Food could taste like sandpaper now and I wouldn’t know the difference.

  “Your father should be home in a few minutes, but we can go ahead and eat,” my mother told me. She mistook my lack of appetite for manners. I nudged a few noodles around and took a bite for her sake.

  “Are you excited for senior year to start next week?” Mom asked. I bit back a sigh and met her expectant glance.

  “Sure,” I said, giving her a tight smile. “I’m all caught up with summer reading at least.”

  “Honey, you’ll be fine. Have you thought about doing any activities?”

  We both knew my choices were always limited when it came to extracurriculars. No sports for this girl, even if I wanted to play. “We’ll see. Amber and I usually pick the same committees.”

  “That’s great to hear. It would do you some good to get out, be with your friends again.” A long pause came between us before she spoke again. “Are you going to be all right at school? Getting back into a normal routine?”

  “I’ll be fine, Mom. School’s not my concern. I just…” I trailed off, unsure if I should say my thoughts aloud.

  None of us had really talked about Starling’s death, not even right after it happened. Sometimes we accidentally said her name and we all froze, then changed topics. A couple months ago, my mother, out of habit, set a place at the dinner table for Starling. I didn’t leave my room for two days. The family therapist we saw wasted no time in putting me on medication and I dreaded having to wean myself off of it soon. Facing my emotions where Starling was concerned was bound to break my heart into a million pieces. As if Fortune hadn’t done that for me already.

  Mom set her silverware down, anticipating where I was headed with this conversation. She looked at me, waited for me to pluck up the courage to say it. We’d done it once in therapy three months ago and I’d scared the hell out of her.

  “I didn’t save her. She died because I was a coward.” Mom opened her mouth and I raised a hand to stop her. “I can’t think of it any other way. She jumped out to hit him because she thought he would take me away. She protected me! I didn’t keep her safe and…”

  I choked up, tears threatening to spill over into my macaroni and cheese. Mom bit her lip, putting her hand over mine and squeezing tight.

  “Oh, sweetheart, this is not your fault. That vicious man knew what he planned to do the moment he saw you. He wanted to hurt you.”

  “He definitely won there.” I swallowed down the tears and cleared my throat. “Mom, I’m so sorry I couldn’t save her. It’s my fault she died.”

  Mom’s eyes filled with tears, but she kept her hand over mine. “It’s not your fault. The only one to blame is…that man.” Mom still couldn’t say his name and she rushed through the rest of her speech. “You did everything you could. God wanted her with his angels and now she’s taking care of us from a better place.”

  I looked down at the table to hide the scowl that automatically spread across my face. Mom had made a lot of big speeches like this one since Star died. I knew she believed them, clung to them desperately, and if I’d lost a sister, she’d lost a child. I couldn’t be frustrated with her. So I kept my mouth shut, while inwardly I screamed at the skies and asked why my sweet baby sister was murdered.

  “But I have to believe it’s all happened for a reason,” she continued, and I met her fervent glance again. “Even though she’s gone, you and Starling are still my everything, my entire life. There isn’t a day I won’t weep for her, but I’ll be strong for you and your father will be, too.”

  “I know, Mom. And I’m trying, I swear.”

  She shook her head. “This isn’t easy for any of us, especially for you. To see what you saw…” She took one look at my face and stopped. After a long, awful moment, she continued, “We’re going to get through this, Nova. We’ll find strength again.”

  I grimaced at her choice of words. My strength had been useless against Fortune.

  She might have kept going, but Dad barged through the front door, slamming it behind him. We heard him throw his briefcase onto the foyer bench and storm through the hallway. Mom looked a tad alarmed, so she didn’t know what the problem was, either. He entered the dining room and tossed a newspaper on the table as he went to the hutch to make a drink.

  Mom and I pulled the paper towards us. Today’s front-page headline and accompanying photo took my breath away. The picture showed a completely decimated building, apparently a small bank that used to stand in a decaying section of Arcania. The headline read “Fortune Does Not Favor” across the top.

  “It’s been six months.” That was all Dad said as he slid into his chair and sipped his scotch with an angry expression.

  I hissed through my teeth. I’d excelled at ignoring any and all forms of media in the last several months, so it was no wonder I’d missed this yesterday. My eyes flew over the print—according to the article, Fortune not only robbed the branch, but also killed twelve people inside with a well-placed bomb. He left one sole survivor, quoted:

  “He told us that we were about to die. He dragged me out with him and told me that I was lucky number 13. He spared my life because he wanted…citizens to know Arcania is his city now. He said he dares someone to try and stop him.”

  The piece continued with details of the bomb, how Fortune was undetected by cameras or guards, and the damage inflicted on the structure. My heart sank at the names of the deceased — a few of my classmates had family working in that building. This hit would definitely be felt across the city.

  My father looked as angry as he had the day Starling died. He waited for both of us to finish reading before he spoke. My mother looked up from the paper as tears rolled down her face. I thought I might throw up; in the last six months I’d finally experienced nausea. It seemed heartbreak hurt everyone, even me.

  “Fortune must be stopped,” Dad said. His flat monotone told me how truly angry he was. “At this point, I’m worried he has men inside the police force helping him around the cameras. He can get blueprints from anywhere. It’s like he anticipates our every move.”

  The last words Fortune spoke to me were now burned in my brain
after months of repeating the scene in my head. I’d done my best to stop thinking about him, but at Dad’s words, his voice came back to me in a flash.

  No jail cell is going to hold me. They could take my men, but I’ll sit here all day with you to prove a point. Those stupid humans think they can handle me, but they’re wrong.

  Sure sounded to me like he didn’t consider himself human. And how Star had died…yeah, not human. I still couldn’t comprehend it. That blue lightning leaving his hands…obviously Fortune was some kind of outer space wizard. Right? Even more disturbing (in my opinion, anyways) was how he’d spoken to me.

  Didn’t see you coming. Interesting.

  I heard his words in my nightmares, would know the voice anywhere. He’d said it like he knew the future or something. I had since considered mind reading and past lives, to name a few ridiculous ideas. Of course, if I existed, then surely there could be other people out there like me. That suddenly made the world much scarier.

  And then there was the worst part of all. You will not tell anyone about me or I will find you. I’d have to be suicidal to invite that kind of crazy into my family, so I’d said nothing. My father pressed me for several days after the incident and every day I’d denied him answers. If I told him, he’d tell others and eventually everyone would know. Too many people, but especially my family, would be in danger. The therapist said I’d been too traumatized, that I may have even blanked out what he’d done on purpose to keep us safe. Oh, no. I remembered it in HD quality. I was terrified.

  My hand, continuing to tighten its grip on my glass, squeezed too hard. The glass shattered, water splashing everywhere. I jerked in surprise as droplets hit me, my mouth dropping open.

  “I’m s-sorry,” I stuttered.

  My mother jumped up, instantly checking my hands for any wounds. There were none, of course, so she dismissed my apologies and retrieved a hand towel to dry us off.

  “It’s okay, honey,” Mom said. “It’s just a glass.”

  Dad hardly looked up. “Not exactly hard to understand your anger.”

  “Sorry.” I shook my head. “I just…what the hell is wrong with this guy?”

  For once, my mother ignored my mouth. She finished cleaning up the mess and took it into the kitchen. Brown liquid threatened to slosh over the glass in my father’s twitchy hand as he pointed to the newspaper.

  “Six months since his last ‘statement.’ Why now?” he asked.

  I stared at the terrible headline. It sounded like something my best friend Henry, a reporter for the school newspaper, would think up. I spoke before I could stop myself. “Maybe something’s changed in his favor.”

  Silence covered the room as we processed that possibility. Dad squeezed his eyes shut tight and opened them again. “You might be onto something. He’s been underground all this time. What could possibly make him come out of hiding and do something of this magnitude?”

  I shrugged, my lips pursing together. He stared at me for a long moment and sighed. With a quick glance at my mom who appeared in the doorway, he prodded a little more.

  “Her death…Nova, I don’t know what you saw, but I know you saw something. Starling’s body had the same strange burn marks as Fortune’s other victims. She’s the only one he never actually shot; it’s the first lead they’ve had. That’s why we haven’t told the reporters. And that’s going to be discovered soon enough.”

  Blood drained from my face. How had I forgotten he saw the police reports from before Starling’s death? I flashed back to the precinct, where a Detective Barnes had carefully questioned me several times; he’d known I was keeping something, too.

  “I can’t force you to talk about it, honey, but if it could help us catch him…”

  “Sam.” That was all it took from my mom to make Dad change direction of the conversation.

  “Okay. Nova’s right, though. Why now?”

  I shrugged, stared at my dinner plate. My first thought wasn’t comforting. “Maybe he doesn’t fear anything anymore.”

  “He never played by the rules,” Dad pointed out.

  “But he went underground after…last time. He knew to hide for a while, I guess because it was really big news. Maybe now he doesn’t care.”

  Dad’s face fell in dejection. “It’s a possibility. They’re bulking up security at several banks, but without any way to plan for him, it’s going to be tough. City police are doubling their efforts.”

  “Maybe it’s not about any rules,” I wondered aloud. “There has to be more to Fortune than just stirring up trouble. What’s he want?”

  Dad’s mouth twisted. “We don’t know. He hasn’t spent the money.”

  My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What? But—”

  “I hate to break up the detective party,” Mom said coldly, turning to my father, “but maybe Nova should go to her room and make sure she’s ready for next week. You know, for high school.”

  We both looked at her in surprise; we’d forgotten her. I opened my mouth to respond but a shadow of movement from my dad made me stop. Instead, I said goodnight and headed to my room. I paused at the top of the steps and strained to hear Mom talk.

  “You shouldn’t be talking with her about that stuff. She’s a kid.”

  “Not anymore, Sarah. Not after what she’s been through,” Dad argued.

  “Exactly! She’s been through enough. And before you say it, I know she’s strong, but there’s only so much a person can take.”

  “You saw the look on her face tonight when she read the paper. How she crushed that glass without a second thought. You know our daughter, with her mind and strength. If she decides to do something about Fortune…”

  “I already told you, we aren’t discussing it.”

  Mom got up and I heard her begin cleaning up the kitchen. Dad sighed and headed down to his office. I slipped into my room before Mom caught me eavesdropping. Without thinking, I sunk onto my bed, absentmindedly grabbing a book to read.

  Forget the dystopia, I couldn’t stop considering what Dad said. “If she decides to do something about Fortune…” floated around in my head until I finally slammed my book shut.

  “Screw this,” I muttered, grabbing my laptop instead. “Time to research.”

  Long before Fortune came along, I’d spent plenty of time on the Internet, hours gone into looking for my condition. There were no logical reasons. Plenty of theories, most of them wild, but nothing really stuck out. The closest I’d come was comic books. That’s where the indestructible aliens and science experiments that made men into unbreakable beings existed.

  It wasn’t just my impenetrable skin that came with the package. I’d passed my thin frame off as a fast metabolism. That and being luckier than other girls who dieted all the time without results. I could run farther with more bursts of speed; I could lift more than any football player at my school. (My best friend Henry arranged a contest last year to prove it. We won a hundred bucks and I’d gone on a couple dates with the very cute but eventually dull kicker.) And it seemed I was only getting stronger; last week I accidentally pulled the storm door off the back porch without even trying.

  This time, however, I didn’t bother searching for bulletproof skin or increased strength and agility. I delved into Fortune, any information I could get my hands on. I had a lot to catch up on after six months of avoiding the Internet. I tried to think as Henry would, about Fortune’s backstory or possible past crimes.

  So far, not a lot on the guy. No eyewitness had admitted to seeing his electrical prowess; he’d probably threatened them in the same manner as he had with me. None of them would talk and I couldn’t blame them. I believed Fortune when he said he’d hunt me down if I told anyone. I couldn’t risk him coming for my parents, too. I’d already promised myself to never breathe a word of it to anyone.

  An hour later, I came up empty-handed. Everyone knew about the banks in Arcania. No other media reports gave away clues I didn’t already know. He hadn’t struck any other spots, which
told me he liked the big money. I might’ve “overheard” Dad telling Mom months ago that some of the bills were marked. After the second bank heist, the police deposited hundreds of marked dollars in other locations to see if they could track where it went.

  Dad said Fortune hadn’t spent any money. That meant he was sitting on it somewhere, biding his time. What was he doing with it? He could be buying something rare, expensive and/or nuclear. I didn’t like any of those options.

  “Dad must know something,” I murmured, scrolling through yet another article. But there was no way he’d let me in on that stuff. “Unless…”

  I could prove myself to him. Show him that I could handle whatever Fortune threw at us. Then I could help him put Fortune away. Something inside me leapt with hope. I’d been terrified the day Fortune killed Starling; she’d died trying to save me because I’d been paralyzed with fear. I can’t be afraid anymore.

  If the cops couldn’t do it, who did that leave? Someone had to stop Fortune. With his scary little superpower, who really stood a chance?

  “Besides someone who can’t be broken.” I flopped back onto my pillow, stared at the small glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling. “I might be the only one who can stop him.”

  I didn’t know what scared me more: that I could be wrong…or that I was right.

  What does one wear to go save the world?

  I rummaged through my closet, wrinkling my nose at everything. Blue tights with red underwear seemed a little too conspicuous. It couldn’t be a dress, obviously, and shorts were out because I’d spent the entire summer indoors and my pasty white legs would be spotted a mile away. Plus it was still on the warm side, so a black sweater wouldn’t cut it. I settled on a pair of black yoga pants, paired it with a thin black long-sleeved shirt and dug out my black Chucks from a pile of clothes on the floor.