The Supervillain and Me

by Danielle Banas

  “Call who?” Connor asked.

  But Dad didn’t seem to hear him, or if he did, he didn’t care. “He said … he said to call. I need to call,” he mumbled. The top buttons of his shirt had sloppily come undone, and his hair stuck up in tufts.

  “The server,” Hunter whispered, nudging me. “Get the server.”

  The server. That was why we came, but I could barely force myself to lift a finger, staring at my dad, as wilted and obedient as the men and women in the auditorium tonight. Rylan was the one who had his emotions in check, and so it was Rylan who teleported across the office, grabbing for the keyboard on the desk.

  Dad’s head snapped toward him. My father pulled a pistol from his lap, the bullets blasting holes in the wall when he pulled the trigger. We dropped to the ground. I expected to feel a shot, to see blood falling thick on the carpet, but neither came. After several more shots, the room quieted. When I looked up, Dad’s arm was still outstretched, aimed at nothing. The gun fell to the floor, but he didn’t even notice he’d dropped it.

  “Dad!” Connor ripped off his mask, running to our father’s side. “Dad, come on. Snap out of it. We’re going to help you, okay? We’re going to fix this. Dad?”

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t even blink.

  Rylan made a second attempt at destroying the server, but another shot—this time from the doorway—had us diving for the ground again.

  “Just wonderful,” came a bored voice. Wallace stood just inside the door, flanked by two burly men and an even burlier woman, all three with chips in their arms and murderous expressions on their lips. The barrel of his gun was pointed at Rylan’s heart. “It’s you again.”

  “Hey there.” Rylan waved. “You’re looking well. You have a little spring in your step. And a—a very large gun … in your hand.”

  Wallace fired another shot. Rylan teleported to avoid it, and the bullet hit the window instead, leaving a spiderweb of cracks in the glass.

  “You also have a bit of color in your cheeks,” Rylan added.

  Hunter piped up, “I really think it’s just his rising blood pressure.”

  “Enough.” Wallace took a step into the office, slamming the door behind him with such force that it rattled on its hinges. After cocking an eyebrow at the four of us, Wallace turned to his men and said, “Detain them.”

  Wallace’s beefy assistants advanced on us, cracking their knuckles. Connor and Rylan snapped into action, throwing kicks and punches with incredible precision. Wallace’s two men—twins by the looks of their identical square jaws and stubby noses—quickly advanced on Rylan, moving in to hold him down. Rylan smirked and teleported behind them, kicking their backs and sending them tumbling headfirst into the side of the desk. Connor flew at them, attacking from behind, while Hunter was left to deal with the woman.

  “Wait, guys! I don’t hit ladies,” Hunter said, backing against the wall as she advanced on him.

  Hunter wouldn’t hit a woman, but she would sure hit him. She shifted her weight, preparing to throw a right hook at Hunter’s jaw. Just before she could make contact, I leapt through the air, landing on her back, sending us both crashing to the floor.

  I hit my head against a table leg on the way down, and I lay there for a moment, dazed. She recovered quickly and turned on me, her large face contorted furiously, her eyes slate gray and deadly. She pulled her arm back for a second punch.

  With a battle cry, Hunter rushed at her, smashing into her ribs like a battering ram and sending her flying.

  The twins jumped up and reentered the fray. Connor was busy duking it out with Wallace, unaware of the two large men behind him. Rylan was in the middle of prying the woman’s hands away from Hunter’s throat. Stumbling to my feet, I rushed forward, trying to warn Connor. But before I could take two steps, I was hindered by a pair of enormous arms around my chest.

  I kicked my foot backward, my heel striking the newest attacker’s kneecap, but the guard’s fingers shot upward and tightened around my neck. Squeezing, squeezing, squeezing. My head went foggy, and I felt myself slump against his chest.

  Connor, Rylan, and Hunter realized at the same time that I was in trouble. As they made a move to help, Wallace, bruised and bleeding on the floor, managed to snap the end of a long steel cuff around Connor’s shin. Wallace fastened the other shackle to a metal pole jutting down from the ceiling. The female guard hurried to do the same to Hunter.

  Rylan paused when he heard the loud clang. If I could have breathed properly to warn him, I would have, but the guard only squeezed me tighter. Rylan didn’t see it coming. The twins tackled him from behind, and Wallace snapped handcuffs around Rylan’s wrists and ankles, chaining him to another pole on the opposite side of the room.

  My father hadn’t moved an inch since Wallace entered the room. He sat with his hands folded on his desk. His eyes darted around, catching mine for a moment. His mouth opened, but he didn’t speak.

  The guard let up the pressure on my neck just enough to keep me from passing out. I attempted a perfectly aimed kick at his crotch, but was too dizzy and weak from lack of oxygen to follow through.

  Wallace pushed himself off the floor, grinning as he holstered his pistol.

  “Leave us,” he said to his assistants. The twins dashed from the office, the female guard not far behind. Only the guy holding me remained. “So let’s see. We have two Hamiltons, a fish, and a phantom—”

  “This sounds like the start of a really bad joke,” I said.

  Wallace let out a mirthless laugh. “You have no idea.” He paced in front of us, only stopping to rip off Rylan’s and Hunter’s masks. When Rylan’s face was revealed—a bruise blooming around his eye and blood dribbling from his lip—Wallace scoffed, obviously unimpressed that Morriston’s resident supervillain was really a high school senior with only trace amounts of facial hair.

  “You’re Iron Phantom?” Wallace’s lip curled. “How … disappointing.”

  “To be honest, I think it’s rather impressive. But what do I know? I’m the one chained up.”

  “Speaking of that…” Hunter rattled the cuffs around his wrists. “How about getting us out of here, huh?”

  “Umm. I actually can’t do that.…”

  “Come again?”

  Rylan blushed. “The thing about teleporting is that I can’t exactly do it when I’m attached to something really heavy.” He glanced at the chains trailing toward the ceiling. “This building fits the bill.”

  Wallace snorted.

  We were officially stuck.

  “I was actually concerned that the chains wouldn’t do the trick,” Wallace said. “I can see now that I overestimated your abilities. You call yourselves heroes?” He crossed his arms as he turned to me, fixing me with an icy stare. “Or do you call yourselves villains? After the display at the warehouse, I’m a little unsure. That was you with Iron Phantom, wasn’t it, Miss Hamilton?”

  I refused to give him an answer either way. Instead I clenched my jaw until my teeth were ready to shatter, meeting his gaze head-on. Behind him, still trapped at the desk, Dad’s mouth dropped open.

  Wallace took slow, confident strides across the office, stopping only a foot in front of me. I thought about spitting in his face, but I decided to save that maneuver for later.

  He took my wrist in his hand, his stubby fingers examining the spot where a microchip should have been blinking beneath my skin.

  “How—? Did you all take them out?” he asked.

  I kept my vow of silence. Beside me, Connor, Rylan, and Hunter did the same.

  “Not up for chatting? Shame. I was only trying to prolong the inevitable for you.”

  “Wallace,” Dad croaked, pleading. Without bothering to turn around, Wallace snapped his fingers in my father’s direction.

  “Quiet,” he said, sounding almost bored. Dad’s jaw clenched shut automatically. “So let’s get to it, then, shall we?” Wallace headed for a short cabinet beside the desk, opening the doors to reveal three shel
ves full of liquor. After choosing one of the larger bottles, he began filling a square glass with an amber liquid.

  Wallace gave us a mock salute with his glass, then took two long sips, nearly emptying it. “Anyone care for a drink before we start? Or are you a bit tied up at the moment?”

  Connor groaned. “Villain jokes. I hate villain jokes.”

  Rylan stared at Wallace with such intensity that it looked like he was trying to set the man on fire. “You’re not going to give us the stereotypical villainous spiel where you reveal your evil genius plan in excruciatingly gory detail, are you?” he asked. “Because I have to say, I haven’t been sleeping well, and I don’t think I could stay awake for that.”

  Wallace strode over to Rylan, backhanding him with four rings on his right hand. Rylan’s head jerked to the side and he spit a glob of blood on the white carpet. The guard tensed behind me.

  A steady stream of red dripped down Rylan’s cheek. It made my heart hurt.

  “You’ve been quite the source of commotion, Iron Phantom,” said Wallace. “Whether you intended to or not. Did you know I hired one of my guards to masquerade as you?” He nodded to the big man standing behind me. “Just on occasion, only when I thought it was necessary. He robbed a jewelry store. I had him vandalize my car to draw away suspicion.…” Wallace chuckled.

  “The rest, of course, I took care of,” Wallace said. If only I had the ability to shoot lasers from my eyes. The subway flood, the theme park malfunction, the drive-by shooting, the bomb in the mall …

  My dad looked like he was about to cry. I could feel the anger rolling off me; I could feel it spilling from my brother, Rylan, and Hunter too, bringing the office to a boil until we were all suffocating in rage. Rylan should have killed Wallace when we had the chance.

  Hunter shifted in his spot, his chains clanging. “So this was all you? Mayor Hamilton had nothing to do with it?”

  “Mayor Hamilton doesn’t have it in him,” Wallace snapped.

  “And Iron Phantom? He didn’t have anything to do with it either?”

  Wallace eyes narrowed. “Are you slow, or just stupid?”

  “Neither.” Hunter grinned. “I’m just trying to get the full picture.”

  Rylan caught my eye, and we looked at Hunter strangely. I couldn’t figure out what he was doing, but if he had some grand plan up his sleeve, then now would be a good time to start using it.

  Connor spit at Wallace, a large glob of saliva landing on his shiny loafers. “Why would you do this? Why would you hurt people?”

  “Because it was a means to a much better end.” He slammed his glass down on the desk, waving a hand in my father’s direction. “The great Mayor Hamilton thinks he can detect when someone is about to commit a crime? Give me a break. This city is so tainted with criminal filth that it wouldn’t make a difference. You’ve normalized murder. This city is toxic. Your father hasn’t been able to do anything about it, and neither have you, Connor. You’re too soft. You’re both too weak—”

  Another glob of Connor’s spit landed on Wallace’s shoes. “So you think you’re the only one who can save Morriston, is that right?”

  “I’m the only one who has the gall to do what needs to be done.”

  “Do you even understand how hypocritical you sound?” Rylan shouted. “You destroyed the entire city! You’re no better than any other criminal.”

  Rylan took another slap to the face. “Have you ever felt the pain of loss, Iron Phantom?”

  “More than you know,” Rylan replied through clenched teeth.

  “Then you should understand. All of you should understand. Everyone in Morriston has known someone who has been killed. Well, not anymore. I ordered those nanobots months ago, but I knew no one in their right mind would agree to Mayor Hamilton’s emotion detection devices,” he said with a sneer, “unless the city was in mortal peril. And that’s where you came in.” Wallace eyed Rylan’s super suit, giving him a demented smile. “When you set the fire in city hall, it gave me an idea. If the citizens had a new threat to fear, not just an ordinary criminal, but one with powers, someone who could be anywhere at any time, who could kill them in an instant, then they would flock to receive a microchip. They wouldn’t have another option. And they would never suspect the nanobots I’d hidden inside.

  “Now that the nanobots have been activated, Morriston will finally be compliant. No more fighting. No more killing. They’ll listen to anything I tell them. Your father will listen to anything I tell him.” He looked longingly at the chip in my dad’s wrist. “No one else will die.”

  Rylan’s jaw unclenched and fell slack. His eyes were no longer full of loathing but filled with pity. I just felt numb. A human icicle.

  “Someone was killed, weren’t they?” I asked, trying my best to sound sensitive lest he snap. “Someone you cared about. Who was it?”

  Wallace turned to me with leering, bloodshot eyes. “My younger brother, David. He was robbed at gunpoint last year.” Wallace’s voice trembled. “No one saved him. Not your father. Not your brother. They were too busy protecting everyone else.”

  Connor swallowed hard. “Wallace, I’m … I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Of course you didn’t know!” Wallace roared. He pounded his fist on the desk, and the computers shook. Hit the server next, I thought. Smash it to pieces and this can finally be over.

  “There’s always someone else to save,” said Wallace. “Someone more important, maybe someone closer in reach. But what about the rest? What about the ones who fall through the cracks?”

  Shame filled Connor’s blue eyes. He knew how much it hurt to fail. “Manipulating people using those nanobots isn’t going to help. It will only do the opposite. This won’t bring your brother back, and I know how much it hurts, but I’m sorry,” Connor whispered. “He’s gone.”

  With a swipe of his hand, Wallace smashed the lamp on my dad’s desk to the floor. He picked up a photo, sending it crashing into the wall. The glass shattered. A corner of the picture poked out from the frame, and I recognized my mother’s wedding dress.

  He rifled through the drawers, tossing aside papers and folders with little care. When he found what he was looking for, he paused, grinned, and slowly stood.

  I leaned forward to get a closer look at the object clenched in his fist, but the guard quickly pulled me back, knocking my head against his chin.

  “I’ve heard enough,” Wallace said. There was a flash of silver as he thrust whatever he was holding into my father’s hands. “Inject them.”

  “No!” I kicked at the guard, trying to escape, but his fingers bruised my skin. I twisted in his grip, screamed and punched, stilling only when Wallace held a short knife to my throat.

  “Red Comet can go first,” he said, nodding to my dad.

  Another round of screams burst from my throat. Dad jerked to his feet, out of his own control. Sweat soaked his forehead. The eyes that looked down at Connor were not my father’s eyes. They were dull and unfeeling, the eyes of a man long since beaten into submission.

  “It’s not me,” Dad said, his movements robotic as he knelt at Connor’s side. “I swear it’s not me.”

  Connor nodded. He struggled against the chains as he sat on the floor, but they were unbreakable. He hadn’t been shorter than Dad since before the giant growth spurt that accompanied his superpowers. But now he looked like a little kid again. Powerless. Connor’s eyes were red, but he pursed his lips, refusing to shed tears.

  I looked from Connor to Rylan to Hunter. Each struggled to break free, but each failed.

  “Go ahead,” Connor finally said. “You know you have to do it.”

  Dad reached for Connor’s arm.

  “Wait.”

  Wallace held up a hand, and the world seemed to stop spinning. For a second, I dared to hope he changed his mind. But then he said, “He took it out once before. Put it somewhere he won’t be able to get at it. The neck, I think.”

  This time, I didn’t hear myself scr
eam, but I felt the burn in my throat. I didn’t decide to kick Wallace in the stomach, but when he smashed my face into the wall, I knew I must have tried. I didn’t want to see the flash of a syringe as it plunged into my brother’s neck, but it consumed my vision. Connor cried out, trying to scoot away, but he had nowhere to go. He whimpered when our father depressed the plunger.

  “Connor!”

  Connor jerked on the floor, his chains clanging. Too soon, he stilled, his heavy breathing straining the seams of his suit.

  “Connor! Connor, look at me!”

  His head snapped up, and his bright blue eyes locked with mine. “Yes, Abby?”

  My heart nearly stopped when I heard his voice. It was slow and soft instead of boisterous. And his eyes … they lacked any type of emotion. Connor was staring right at me, but I wasn’t sure he recognized me. Not like he normally did. Not in the brotherly way where he made me laugh until I cried or teased me until I stormed from the room in anger. Connor wasn’t Connor anymore.

  “Connor, please!” Tears trickled down my face and fell on the guard’s forearms. “Come back, Connor! You can do it. You have to come back to me.”

  Connor’s eyes flitted around the room as he shifted in his seat. I hadn’t given him a command, not by normal standards, but he was trying so hard to obey. Except he didn’t know how. I could read the anxiety in his eyes, and that small display of emotion gave me hope. Come back from what? he was thinking. I don’t know what to do.

  “Don’t look at her,” Wallace commanded. “She’s not your sister anymore.”

  Connor’s gaze quickly dropped to his boots. “Yes, sir.” He pulled his legs to his chest and rocked back and forth, muttering, “Yes, sir. Not my sister. No sister. Yes, sir.”

  “That’s sick,” Hunter said to Wallace. “You need serious help.”

  Wallace retreated to the desk, motioning for my father to follow him on the way over. Dad shakily got to his feet, his fists balled up as he stared down at Connor.