Guitar Hero (Cape High Series Book 12)

by R. J. Ross

  "That's what you get for looking away," Falconess says shamelessly.

  "Seriously?" I say, only to shake my head. "Well, anyway, picture a group of some twenty two or three kids with super powers. One is Maximum, one is Dragon, one is Cold Steel, toss in us, and a bunch of other high-powered kids ranging from thirteen to eighteen. There’s even a speedster with a serious case of ADHD. Would YOU take them into a Wal-Mart for a shopping trip?"

  "He did?"

  "Yep. He set us up in groups and sent us each our own way."

  "Did you burn the place down?"

  "Did Cold Steel freak everyone out?"

  "Can you get banned from Wal-Mart?"

  "We went shopping," I say simply.

  "He once kidnapped an entire Funhouse just so we could have a pizza party!" Malina says happily.

  "He didn't kidnap them, he just terrorized them a little," Emily corrects her.

  "He doesn't yell at anyone—but he doesn't exactly… care, either," I admit. "He tells us he'll only put in as much effort into our schooling as we do. He basically ignored my existence for the first few months."

  "We'll be arriving at West Branch Hall in two minutes, everyone," the bus driver, Alphonse, says over his shoulder. "As protocol, I would suggest changing into full uniform now. You want to present a professional, united front." The girls head to the bathroom to change, leaving the rest of us to shuck our clothes and pull on the white and gold uniforms.

  "How did you get this job?" Cole asks, standing next to Alphonse.

  "Bus driving, or black suit?" Alphonse asks.

  "Both."

  "I'll tell you after we deal with the Hall," Alphonse says as we pull to a stop in front of a massive building—one that's all too familiar to me. The West Branch Hall is done in modern style, a tower of shining windows that curve in the front. The statue in front of the building is an abstract sculpture that doubles as a fountain. Those that don't know it's the Hall would never recognize it for one. Obviously Alphonse has been here before, I think as he pulls the door open and straightens his suit. He looks over at us, his eyes landing on Emily and Falconess. "Permission to go first?" he asks.

  "Of course," Falconess says. "Have you worked in this branch before?"

  "I've done business with them," Alphonse says, smiling slightly as he heads out. We head to the window, watching as he greets another black suit with a manly hug, complete with back slapping. They talk for a few minutes, asking about each others' families and jobs, and then Alphonse casually mentions we're on the bus and ready to talk. The second man checks in with security and Alphonse looks at the bus, motioning us out.

  Falconess steps out first, heading to the other black suit and shaking hands. Emily goes next, with me following, and so on. Soon everyone but the band is standing out in front of the Hall. We're surrounded by black suits. "It's a pleasure to meet you," the black suit that'd been talking with Alphonse says, looking at each of us. "Is this everyone?"

  "My bandmates are norms," I say. "They're still on the bus."

  "I see. I'll send someone to make sure they're comfortable while we have this meeting," he says. "I am Paul Desdon, head of West Hall Security, the ones you refer to as the 'Black Suits,'" he finishes with a slight smile. "It's a pleasure to meet the heroes of tomorrow—especially you," he says, heading for me and offering his hand. "I knew your father, he was a great hero."

  "Thanks," I say simply, shaking the hand offered.

  "If you would follow me," he says, turning and heading into the building. I see a few of the camera drones floating around us.

  "Is it okay if we record this for Hero TV?" I ask.

  "It's fine—they're your sponsor for this, right?"

  "Yeah, thanks to E—Divine Justice," I say, glancing over at Emily, who has a slight frown on her face as she stares at the abstract fountain.

  "This doesn't feel like a Hall," she says quietly. "It's more like a business."

  "That's because a Hall IS a business," Negatia says as we step into the building. "Unlike the other Hall Leaders I don't feel the urge to make us out to be anything but hard-working citizens with a few extra abilities. Welcome to my Hall," she says, walking down the towering glass and metal stairs.

  "Thank you for your assistance," Falconess says. "We really appreciate your willingness to accommodate us."

  "Now tell me, what was it that offended you so much, Divine Justice?" Negatia asks Emily.

  "I'm used to a more traditional statue in front," Emily says as she looks around, "and inside, too. The South Branch Hall has a—"

  "Is this the South Branch Hall?"

  "No."

  "That explains it, then," Negatia says. She doesn't look happy. I wonder how often she gets complaints about the Hall's appearance. "If you would follow me, we have a few papers to sign before I send you on your way. I also have a few things to discuss with you," she adds as we follow her up the stairway and down a hall into her office. It's so modern that it's almost stark. The glass desk is curved—in fact there are no sharp corners anywhere in the room. It has a cold feel to it. I expected it to be like this. From the look on the other's faces, though, they don't know what to think. We watch as she goes around her desk, picking up one of the folders and opening it. "This is a contract that states the length of time you'll be able to operate in my territory," she tells us. "Once that time is up, I expect you to return to Central until your educations are complete. The offer to join my Hall might be extended to a few of you, depending on how you conduct yourselves during this mission." She looks straight at Malina, who doesn't look her in the eyes.

  Have I mentioned that in some ways, I think Negatia is the most terrifying of the Hall leaders? That might have had something to do with me running away… I'm just saying.

  "We do have one little issue, one that should actually involve all of the super community," she goes on, looking at one of the floating drones. "Senator Herold has just announced his desire to run for presidency. His biggest campaign is a drive to keep supers in their place—which is NOT in norm schools," she says. "According to your schedule, you're lined up to speak in some of our local schools, is that correct, Divine Justice?"

  "Yes, ma'am," Emily says.

  "I am not a 'ma'am', Divine Justice. You may address me as Negatia."

  "Yes, Negatia," Emily says, not even blinking.

  "I'll write it off as your Southern background coming through. I'm sure Century will be crowing over it at our next meeting. But what I mean to say is you should watch your back, especially when you do speak in the schools." She slides the paperwork across the table and Falconess sorts through the sheets, holding one out to each of the others. I don't get one.

  "Um, where's mine?" I ask, not happy about bringing attention to myself.

  "This is your Hall," Negatia says, looking at me. "Do you really think I would keep you from coming back any time you want?" There's a vulnerable look in her eyes that I'm positive I wouldn't have caught before. This year of living with emotionally damaged kids has made me more aware of things, I realize abruptly. "Can we speak privately before you leave?" she asks me quietly. I nod, knowing I don't want to, but also knowing that this entire mission could easily hinge on my actions right now. I glance around, watching the others sign their contracts. I feel a little adrift.

  "So, other than the presidency run and campaigning, do we need to look out for anything else?" Falconess asks as she hands back her contract.

  "There's a good chance of running into pockets of protesters," Negatia says, crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair. "I don't know if you've talked with the other Hall leaders recently, but Marigold reported someone defaced the statue in front of her Hall yesterday."

  "And they didn't catch them?"

  "It happened in the middle of the night. She believes it might have been kids, but I find the timing too suspicious. The norms are starting to get riled up."

  "Do you and Century not get along?" Emily asks abruptly. She turns a bit red as Ne
gatia just looks at her drolly.

  "I admire his abilities very much," Negatia says.

  "Nicely fielded," Falconess says with a little smile. Negatia lets a matching smile cross her lips.

  "Divine Justice—"

  "You can call me DJ," Emily offers.

  "DJ, then, you'll find that when there are five supers in positions of power, there will always be… politics involved. It isn't that we truly dislike one another, but there is a sense of competition involved. We each want to openly claim that our branch is the best. Mine is," she says with a wicked twinkle in her eyes, "and the fact that they can't acknowledge that fact means we'll never see eye to eye."

  Falconess is the first to laugh, while everyone else is left wondering what to say in reply. "Don't worry, kids, as soon as they start putting together other schools like Cape High, you'll understand exactly where she's coming from," she says to us. "Now, is there anything else you need from us?" she asks Negatia.

  "Just a few moments with my son," Negatia says, looking at me. I hear them head out, but don't turn to watch. Instead I look around the room, taking in the abstract paintings and the one cover of Heroes Monthly that she has hanging on the wall. I stare at it for a moment before walking over. "He was so proud of that," she says, alerting me to the fact she's right behind me.

  The picture of Dad in full uniform has me fighting the urge to cry. He looks so proud of himself, a broad grin crossing his face, his classic pose just a bit too cocky. "You look a lot like him," she says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "He would be proud of you, you know."

  "No he wouldn't," I say bluntly. "I ran off." I feel like a guilty kid. I've always known I would have to deal with this, but I shoved it to the back of my mind every time.

  "Why did you run away?" she asks.

  "Because…" why? I take a deep breath, wishing I could just quit this entire conversation. I don't want to say it—but she's just standing there, her hand on my shoulder. "Because of THIS," I say finally, waving at the magazine cover. "Because of him." I pull away from her touch, turning to face her. "I can never be the man my dad was. I know it, you know it, EVERYONE knows it. And as long as I was in the West Branch, I was ALWAYS going to be in his shadow. No matter what I became—or become, even—I'll never surpass him, because he DIED for what he believed. And call me a coward, but all I saw in my future was a 'glorious death!' I have no desire to throw away my life for anyone!"

  There's an understanding expression on her face, which is the last thing I expected. "I lost him, too," she says softly, pulling me into a hug.

  "I don't want to be a hero," I say. "I don't want to wear this stupid uniform, much less one like Dad's. I just—I just want to be a musician. It's stupid and selfish and I know I'm supposed to be something bigger, but nobody ASKED me. I was just born this way!"

  "Then why did you agree to this mission?" she asks as she pulls away to look me in the eyes.

  "Because—because of them," I say, waving at the door. My shoulders slump and I reach up to run a hand through my hair. "I feel like a real jerk because I hear them at night when they start crying, or lose control of their abilities, or when they start thrashing around. But there's nothing I can do. I can't go back in time and make it so the Collector never captured them, I can't reach into their brains and take the memories out, either. I wish I could. Malina—she was one of the worst," I go on, shocked at how it's just pouring out of my mouth. "When she cries, the sinks start running, the showers start running—she doesn't even realize what she's doing. We've had a few floors flood because of her. Freddy disappears. I can't even hear him leave, because he's so quiet, but all of a sudden he's nowhere to be found in the middle of the night. Heck, Vinny burnt down his bedroom when he had a nightmare. He's supposed to be one of the most stable in the group! They're all a—a complete MESS and if we can even find ONE kid before something like that happens to them it'll be… it'll be worth it."

  "Is there anyone helping them?" she asks, going back to the zoo kids.

  "Yeah," I say, letting out a sigh and forcing myself to relax. "America's Son comes every weekend and helps them work through it. It's helping a lot, actually, which is why most of them are even out on this mission. One, though… Sandra still can't even force herself to come out of her room, much less off campus."

  "So you have all the children that were in the Collector's collection?" she asks.

  "As far as I know, yeah," I say. "They consider each other family. I live in the dorm with them." They don't consider me family, but it's gotten better recently. I think it's because of Ace, as much as I hate to admit it.

  "I can rent you a place nearby, if it would be easier," she offers. "Or, if it comes to it, I can speed up the move to create our own school, here."

  "What?" I say blankly. "No, it's… it's a lot better than it was at first."

  "I see," she says, watching me closely for a moment before pulling me into another hug. "You've grown up so much since I last saw you," she tells me. "I'm proud of you."

  Why? My mouth opens as I try to ask, but I can't seem to say it. I'd just told her I was a selfish jerk that didn't want to risk his life for anyone, right? I'm pretty sure that's what came out of my mouth. So why is she proud of me? "I don't know why," I finally mutter. "I'm still a selfish jerk when it comes down to it—I've just gotten better at hiding it."

  She laughs. "Here's a secret, Justin, deep down a lot of people feel that way."

  I stare at her, and she gives me a little smile before leaning up and kissing my cheek. "Go back to your mission—go save the kids that can't save themselves. I'll have my Hall keep an eye out for problems."

  I hesitate for a moment before nodding. I'm supposed to feel better about myself after this talk, right? Well, it's not working. Just saying everything out loud like I did brings my life back into crystal clear focus.

  I'm not a hero, and I never will be. Everything I do right now is because I feel guilty.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The older man walks up the steps of the platform, straightening his tie in a slightly nervous manner. He lets out a little chuckle, breaking the silence that covers the area. Kansas City, right in front of the City Hall—not even a block away from Central Hall. "I have to say," he says as he leans forward to the mic, "I've heard that Kansas City is called the City of Fountains, now I really believe it." As a joke it falls flat, but the audience smiles slightly. "It's a shame I can't spend more time looking around—I'll definitely have to come back."

  This gets a few cheers, which go quiet as he continues speaking. "Thank you all for joining me today. I am Senator Marvin Herold, and I want to be your next president." There are a few cheers, but it seems mild compared to the other places he's been. He scans the audience with a discerning eye, stopping on a few of the silent ones. "If you vote for me for president, I promise that you will be safe in your own homes. Your children can be safe in their schools. When I'm president, your freedom and safety will be my biggest concerns. America isn't politics, it isn't profit—it's you, the people. You are, and always will be, my first priority. That is why the first thing I do in office is make sure the Halls know their place."

  The audience just stares at him, for the most part.

  "You, of all people, should know where I'm coming from," he goes on, wondering where the support is. Usually the only people that come to these things are the ones that have already decided to support him. Instead, he thinks as he looks over the group, there seems to be a majority of non-supporters. "Almost daily you have supers destroying your buildings, your roads, and your personal property! This isn't right, people, this is—"

  "They fix it," a kid in the front row yells. "Right after it gets broken, right, Mom?"

  "Yeah, thanks to that Liberty boys fight the other day, I got a new heating and cooling system," a man says, making the others look at him. "It's a wonder, too—I brought in a professional and he was stunned. It hardly uses any energy at all!"

  "It's because they brought in Te
chnico, right?" an older lady says. "We're the first city to go green without paying a dime thanks to him! They redid my car last month! Now it's electric—and not one of those cheap ones, either, I could go over a hundred miles an hour if I wanted! And they even asked what color I wanted it!"

  "But they destroyed your car," Herold says.

  "Well it was on its last legs, anyway," she says with a shrug. "That brand new mustang right next to it didn't even get a scratch, did you know that?"

  "We like our super heroes!" someone yells.

  "They're invading your schools! Don't you worry about your children getting hurt by some random flying object?"

  "Well… that IS a bit of a problem," a man admits near the back. "They sure do like to throw that mic around a lot, you know? I bet a kid could get quite a shiner if they got hit by that."

  "And there's always the worry that Cold Steel might blind someone," a woman agrees. "He really should start wearing a hat—at least on the sunny days!"

  "That's definitely a good point," the man agrees. "And what about people driving below? They could be blinded!"

  "Cold Steel needs a hat!" someone yells in agreement from the crowd.

  "Cold Steel needs a hat!" another repeats. It's going to turn into a chant if he's not careful.

  "What are you going to do about JOBS?" one of the more politically minded asks. "Jobs are way more important than super damage, you know!"

  "What about taxes?"

  "Cold Steel needs a hat!"

  Time to take back control, Herold thinks with an inward sigh. He should have never let them take even this small amount of time from him. "My fellow Americans, we have the right to keep our citizens safe—and the threat is more serious than you think. You have extremely dangerous creatures living just down the street from here! What happens if they decide they don't want to play by the rules anymore? What happens when they come after your children?"

  "They ain't dangerous," a man says. "They're just show-boats."

  "Especially Mega," someone agrees.

  "Hey! I just happen to be Mega's biggest fan!"