“I don’t believe any of that,” Connor said.
“What?”
“Dad wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t just force people into feeling things so he can control them. He’s trying to help people, not—not hurt them.”
“Connor, please—”
“Did Iron Phantom tell you this? Are you seriously still in contact with him?”
“No. It wasn’t him. It was my … friend.”
“Is it the friend who came here with you? Abby,” Connor yelled, “wake up! He doesn’t know Dad. We do. Dad would never do anything to hurt anyone.”
My chest tightened. I was angry and confused and didn’t know what to believe anymore. It seemed like anything could be possible.
“Look, even if Dad isn’t involved, someone is. Someone lied to us. The microchips don’t detect emotions,” I repeated Rylan’s words. “They change emotions. And if you want to be a hero, then stop sitting around signing autographs when people could be in serious danger. Do something, Connor!”
Connor’s fingers balled into fists. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. I could pinpoint the exact moment when he moved on from petty anger to something resembling acceptance. I hadn’t mentioned our mom this time, but it didn’t matter. When Connor’s shoulders slouched and he slowly slipped his mask back on, I knew I hit the same nerve as before.
“At least take out your microchip,” I begged. “Please just do that. You don’t have anything to lose.”
Connor pulled off the glove on his right hand and glanced at his wrist. “How?”
“Cut it out. That’s what I did. And tell Hunter to do it too.”
He pulled his glove back on. “I don’t know, Abby.…”
“Please. It’s not what you think it is.”
“Fine. I’ll see what I can do. I have to get back out there, and you need to get ready for your show. Dad and I are coming. We’ll all talk about this after and figure everything out. You can even bring your … special friend.” Connor gagged, and I swatted at his head. He ducked easily. “Break a leg tonight, Abby. You’ll kick ass.”
Connor reentered the bookstore to shrill screams and unnecessary sobbing. By the time I pulled it together and left the storage room, he had already resumed his seat and was taking a selfie with a middle-aged woman wearing only slightly more clothing than some of the teens.
Rylan rushed over immediately. “How’d it go?”
I scowled at my idiot brother. I was so sure he would help, so sure he would be on my side. “Horrible.”
“Fan-freaking-tastic.”
* * *
“Abby, are you ready?” Mrs. Miller approached me ten minutes to curtain. My face had been caked with foundation and eyeliner and lipstick, my eyebrows drawn darker by one of the makeup mothers backstage. I wore a flowy beige dress and a corset that made my boobs look awesome even though I could barely breathe, and my honey-blond hair hid under a long brunette wig. A ring of small flowers circled my head. I looked nothing like Abby and everything like Angeline. That should have excited me. My heart should have been thumping with anticipation, but all I felt was fear.
If fear had a color, it would be black. It would drip like tar and stick to your fingers no matter how many times you tried wiping it off. It would smell acidic, burnt plastic melting into the ground, into your soul. Fear sometimes sneaks up on you when your back is turned. Other times, it stands before you in plain sight. That’s the worst kind. When it’s so obvious it had been there all along, but you were just too blind to see. Fear is when you find out someone you loved and trusted wasn’t who you thought they were. Fear is when you realize you’ve been lied to.
I nodded to my director, taking a few deep breaths. I tried to imagine the coil in my muscles as I danced, the tickle in my throat after hitting a high note. I imagined the warmth that spread through my chest when Rylan wrapped his arms around me. I felt a little better.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” I said.
“Excellent! You are going to be fabulous! Break legs!” Mrs. Miller tightened a lime green cardigan around her shoulders as she waded through racks of costumes and cans of hair spray to search for Isaac.
I felt awkward leaning against the wall by myself as I counted down the minutes until curtain. The rest of the cast was busy taking pictures and chatting away. The only person I wanted to talk to before going onstage was Rylan, but he was busy fixing a wheel on the bottom of the papier-mâché crocodile. Interesting how I waited and agonized over my shot as a lead in a Morriston musical, and now that I had it, all I wanted was for it to end.
Rylan and I came this close to blowing off the show completely in the face of what we learned this afternoon. We might have actually done it too, if disappearing wouldn’t have triggered my father’s suspicions that we were onto him. So we were stuck waiting until after the final curtain call before we could do anything worthwhile. The musical didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Not anymore.
Feeling a tap on my shoulder, I turned to find Sarah rocking on her heels, glancing nervously at the hallway leading to the stage. We hadn’t talked much lately, between the E.D.D. injections and our late nights spent at rehearsal, but she was still my best friend. I leaned in to hug her, hoping that if I held on to someone safe and familiar, then maybe it would drain my fear away.
It didn’t work very well, but you can’t blame a girl for trying.
“Are you nervous?” Sarah asked me. “Because I’m nervous. Like, so-nervous-I’m-going-to-barf nervous.” She pushed a piece of hair from her eyes, revealing the inside of her wrist where the light from her microchip flickered. I instinctively hid my own wrist in the folds of my dress.
“Don’t picture the audience in their underwear,” I advised. “It never works out quite the way you want it to.”
“Noted.” She straightened her blue dress and bubble-gum pink sweater, which clashed horribly with her red hair. Someone needed to be fired from costume duty.
“Places!” a girl on stage crew poked her head into the dressing room before quickly ducking out.
My heart skipped a beat, and Sarah’s face filled with a frightened deer-in-the-headlights look.
“No underwear?” she asked.
I nodded. “No underwear.”
She pulled me a second hug. “You’ll be amazing, Abby.”
“You too. Hey, Sarah!” I called as she walked away. She turned around with a smile plastered to her face, and I knew I couldn’t keep lying to her. She deserved better. “Come find me and Rylan after the show. We really need to tell you something.”
“You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“What? No! Just come find us.”
As I rushed to stage left for my first entrance, a warm hand gripped my wrist, pulling me to a halt. I almost didn’t recognize Isaac with his slicked-back hair and pointed silver crown. He wasn’t supposed to be on this side of the stage, something I knew he was well aware of.
Isaac’s eyes flitted around the hallway. “We got this, right? If those damn supers can put on their tights and rescue people from fires and shit, then we can go out there and sing.”
“Of course we can.” I watched as Isaac dabbed at the sweat on his forehead. Was he, of all people, nervous? A microchip blinked under his skin, and I tried to ignore the plummeting feeling in my gut. “I think the supers have grown on you since you moved here.”
“You might be right. I know he’s a villain, but I’m somewhat of a closet Iron Phantom fanatic. I guess I’m a sucker for an underdog.”
Me too, Isaac, I thought. Me too.
Isaac smirked. “And black is also my favorite color. Anyway…” He took a deep breath, washing away the nerves, then grinned at me. “Break a leg.”
Orchestra music swelled just as I reached the wings. I scooted past a few chorus girls and a sophomore boy named Danny who was holding a microphone and reciting the prologue before the first song.
“On one desolate winter night, inside a majestic town not unlike our ow
n…”
“Are Connor and my dad here?” I whispered to Rylan. He sat on a stool with a flashlight and a copy of the script, preparing to pull open the curtain.
“… humanity was targeted from all sides by an unknown assailant…”
“Connor’s been here awhile. He’s saving your dad a seat. Last time I checked, he wasn’t here yet.”
I gulped. “Okay.”
“… And this savage enemy emerged not by land nor air nor sea. For it lurked inside the very walls of the kingdom it sought to destroy…”
The wings filled with a blue glow from the microchips under my castmates’ skin. Rylan and I tugged at our sleeves. “Everything’s going to be fine, Abigail. I promise.”
“… draining life from all who dare approach it.”
* * *
The show started off good, fine, as well as anyone could expect of a bunch of amateur high school students. We had an audience primarily made up of students, teachers, and parents who cheered loudly at the end of each song and laughed every time Prince Arthur said something suave. Rylan rewarded me with a huge smile and a thumbs-up after my big solo number, “Better Than This,” where Angeline dreams of leaving her run-down servants’ quarters for life in the countryside with a pasture full of flowers and a loving husband like Arthur.
The stage lights were so bright that I couldn’t see past the first two rows to find Connor or my dad. Were they enjoying the show? Did Dad eventually come? I had no clue.
But other than that, Hall of Horrors was going smoothly.
Until … the kiss.
I’d kissed Isaac plenty of times this week, something Rylan reminded me of with frequent groans and eye rolls. The whole thing turned out much better than the first time—nothing like kissing Rylan, but at least Isaac quickly figured out licking me and yanking my butt looked (and felt) disgusting onstage.
The song leading up to the big kiss required Angeline and Arthur to profess their undying love for each other. Isaac’s hands were slick with sweat while they held my own, and I knew I wasn’t doing much better. The stage felt like a burning inferno, but we worked our way through, taking deep breaths in the right spots and belting out high notes in others.
“Living in shadows, I never felt free.
You became my sun, and I could finally breathe.
And as we stare into the stars,
Your head pressed against my heart…”
The entire cast joined us onstage, egging on Arthur and Angeline to confirm their everlasting love with a big, sloppy kiss. Sarah caught my eye and winked. As anxious as I had been before the show, I couldn’t help but enjoy myself a little bit. This was exciting, an adrenaline rush. All eyes were on me, and I felt like I could do anything.
“… I know now that we’re together,
This love starts today and lasts forever.
Because nothing can be better…”
I moved closer to Isaac, our hands clasped tightly together and our chests nearly touching. Part of him looked terrified, but another part—a larger one—was enjoying this too.
“Nothing can be better …
Nothing can be better than the prince and…”
Isaac winked playfully, and for once, I didn’t want to spit in his face.
“… I!”
When we kissed, the audience held their breath. And so did I. I held my breath and looked up with wide eyes. Because just above us, one of the lights had come loose and was tumbling down, making a beeline for my face.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
It happened in slow motion—or at least it felt that way. Funny how that works. Pleasurable moments fly by, the memories hazy after a few months, but the horrible ones drag on and on and on.
I froze, unmoving until a pair of hands shoved my shoulders. I fell with enough force to send my head snapping back and cracking against the stage. Stars popped before my eyes. The world turned black. I thought I passed out until I heard the screams. They came from every direction—in front of me, behind me, inside me. I tried to move. My head hurt so much. I felt someone next to me—Isaac probably, his fingers running through my hair. It felt nice. All I wanted to do was sleep.
“Abigail! Abby! Look at me, okay?”
Someone shook my shoulders, and my eyelids fluttered open. Every light in the auditorium was now lit, ruining the magic of the Hall of Horrors. Maybe Mrs. Miller was right: This show was horrible. Cursed.
Either the room had quieted down or I ruptured my eardrum when I hit the deck. Considering my head was hurting, not my ears, and I could easily hear my pained whimpers, I decided to go with the former. The audience sat silently in their seats, looking patiently at the stage. Except Connor. He bounded up the aisle, leapt through the air, and landed right next to me and … Rylan. Rylan was the one stroking my hair, his eyebrows pulled together, forming a crease.
“What’s going on?” I moaned, looking at my feet. One of my sandals had fallen off, and my dress had suffered a long tear from ankle to knee. The shattered remains of the light were strewn along the floor. Isaac was gone. Go figure. It was too far-fetched to think he’d stick around and see if I was okay. He was probably on his phone again. Or eating.
“You’re fine, everything’s fine,” Rylan said. “Sarah, come here!”
I propped up on my elbows, watching Sarah. She wasn’t freaking out, which freaked me out. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her dress, a brilliant smile gracing her lips. Never mind that I probably had a concussion and almost got knocked out by a stage light. Sarah was calm, cool, and collected. Not normal.
Her hands shifted, and I noticed her microchip now blinked not blue … but red.
She said, “Do you need something, Rylan?” Sarah’s voice sounded soothing, musical, and so unlike herself. Her eyes looked blank, staring but not really seeing.
“S-Sarah?” I looked from her wrist, to my castmates, to the audience. Red. Red. Red. If the microchips glowed blue when dormant, then they glowed red when they were …
“No!” I yelled, lunging for Sarah’s skirt.
Rylan pushed me down on the stage again. “Sarah, make sure everyone gets home safely.” He turned to the audience. “Go. Follow her right now.”
They stood in such bone-chilling synchronicity that my mouth went dry. With one short command from Rylan, they filed out the door.
Connor gasped, his fingers digging into my skin. “What the hell…”
“Those chips are programmed to turn the entire city into submissive zombies. They aren’t meant to help people like you save anyone,” Rylan snapped. “Exhibit A.” He gestured to the line of men and women slowly walking past. I watched in horror, listening to the soft footfalls of my classmates, teachers, and neighbors until they disappeared down the hall. “Didn’t Abigail tell you?”
“Well, yeah—”
“So you weren’t listening? Or don’t you understand words? Because those are the only reasons I can think of for you to completely reject everything your sister told you!”
“I didn’t completely reject her. I cut out my chip, didn’t I?” He pushed up his jacket, flashing his scabbed wrist. “Listen, kid, you have no idea who you’re messing with.”
Rylan snorted. “Oh, I have no idea? You have no idea—”
“Rylan!” I tugged on his T-shirt and groaned. My head pounded so hard I thought something was growing out of my skull, and their arguing wasn’t helping.
Connor’s fingers probed through my hair. “She needs to go to a hospital.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Are you shitting with me right now? Look at her!” I’d closed my eyes again, and I felt rather than saw Connor wave his hands around my face.
“Just move back for a second,” Rylan said.
“No way!”
“Move away. I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re wasting time arguing with me.”
With an agitated sigh, Connor scooted back, and Rylan’s hands replaced my brother’s. His fingers rubbed the growin
g bump on the back of my skull. “Hold still, Abigail.”
“Rylan, don’t.” I knew how much my head hurt, and the last thing I wanted was for Rylan to take my pain into his body. If we were going to destroy the nanobots, he would need his strength.
But my plea was futile. As soon as Rylan touched me, I felt my skin grow warm. I relaxed as the tingle spread toward my forehead and the throbbing trickled away. When I opened my eyes, I noticed Rylan panting in pain.
Connor looked on in horror. “What are you doing?”
“Healing,” Rylan grunted.
“Healing? Wait, you’re…”
The last of my headache faded, and Rylan pulled me to my feet. Apart from us, the auditorium was now empty. Rylan swayed a bit and braced his hands on his knees.
“You have superpowers? You?” Connor asked. “Hang on, who even are you?”
Rylan straightened up and held out his hand. “Rylan Sloan.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I mean … wait. You’re the guy from the meet and greet today. And you have healing powers? Just like … no. No way. You’re him? Iron Phantom. You’re him!”
Rylan was still breathing heavily as he waited for the impact from my concussion to dissolve. “Yeah, uh, sometimes I am, yeah.”
“Oh, okay, then.” Connor crossed his arms, and I caught a hint of a smile cross his lips. Was he actually just going to let this go? Then his eyes grew dark. No. No, he wasn’t. “I am going to kill you!”
Connor charged, and I jumped forward, blocking his path. Which was a horrible idea. Connor’s chest hit me like a train, and I flew back into Rylan’s arms. “Connor, stop! Rylan’s not a villain; he’s just trying to help!”
“No, Abby, he’s not.” Connor gripped my shoulders and tugged me toward him, but Rylan wouldn’t let go. Connor pulled at my wrist but stopped when I backed up into Rylan’s chest.
When we were kids, Connor always tried to tug me along. He would drag me outside to play superheroes or to our parents’ room to rummage through their drawers, searching for “buried treasure.” Whenever my brother reached for me, I always knew to follow. But not this time. Not when I knew he was wrong.
The Supervillain and Me Page 24
