Okay, so much for him not underestimating me. “What’s the point of this?”
“The point is you’ve got a lot of power. But it’s no good if you don’t know how to use it. And keep going—don’t let up on that arc.”
“I’m not.” Except maybe I was, just a little. I refocus my energy so the power level stays steady. It takes more effort to maintain than I thought, and sweat already prickles along my back. “And you say they overreacted in the news about me, but now you’re acting like I can’t control my lightning, either. But I didn’t hurt that guy, even though I wanted to—I knew what I was doing.”
“And if you’d needed to hurt him?”
“I blew a hole in the gym. I think I can stop a bad guy if things get out of hand.”
“You could obliterate him, you mean. Those are your options right now—barely touching someone or completely annihilating them. One won’t always be enough, the other might be too much.”
Might be? My arc falters again, and I push more energy into it. Sweat beads on my forehead, and it’s taking so much concentration that I can hardly talk. “I’m not... I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“That’s not the point. You should be able to control your ability at any output. And you should be able to defend yourself without worrying about taking out the whole block.”
Not having to worry about killing somebody every time some crazy hero points a gun at me? It sounds almost too good to be true, and the thought breaks my concentration. My lightning suddenly fizzles and the arc falls apart.
“Not as easy as it looks, is it?” he says, with that really annoying look adults get when they think they know more than you.
“You caught me off guard.” Though I’m not sure how much longer I could have kept it up, because, yeah, he’s right. It’s a lot harder than it looks.
“Not bad for your first try. But I know you were still holding back.”
“So, if I practice like this, I won’t be dangerous anymore?”
He sighs. “It’s not that simple. You’ll always be dangerous. It comes with the territory.”
“But you can teach me how to, like, keep my lightning in check?”
He gives me a suspicious look. “Suppressing it isn’t the answer. If you want to control your power, you have to embrace it.”
The back door opens, and Grandma pokes her head out. “You’ve got a phone call,” she says. For a second, I think she’s talking to me, and I don’t know if I’m disappointed or relieved when she addresses Grandpa instead. “There’s been an attack. Three of our people have been injured and taken in. You’d better come quick.”
I go with Grandma and Grandpa to the League’s interrogation site—the secret one where they take villains for questioning. Because it’s not like they could do that at headquarters, where they pretend that they’re above that kind of thing. I mean, some of the League members are above it—people like Gordon who didn’t know it was going on—but still.
We meet up with three other Truth members behind a beige, nondescript office building that no one would ever suspect was used by the League to torture villains. Grandpa keeps his voice low, but still commanding, as he lays out the plan. “We’re going in two teams. Pain Wave, you’re with me and Gladys. Cheshire Spider, you take the Reflector and Damien. Go through the back entrance and find our guys. You know where to look. We’ll go around the front and distract them. I want a lot of firepower for that, in case things get ugly. But you’ll have Damien to take out the security cameras.”
Everyone looks at me. I’m definitely the youngest of the group, and probably the least experienced. And also the most famous for going to hero school and generally being an all-around screwup, just in case anyone’s keeping track. So it’s not too surprising that the Reflector curls her lip in skepticism or that the Cheshire Spider makes eye contact with Grandpa, silently asking if he’s serious about this.
“I can do it,” I assure them, even though I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to do.
“You get our people out of there and bring them to the van,” Grandpa says, addressing the Cheshire Spider. “If we’re not back yet, you go anyway—get them help. It’s likely they’ll need immediate medical treatment.”
“You want us to leave you behind?” the Cheshire Spider asks.
I was wondering the same thing.
Grandpa waves a hand. “Don’t worry about us—we know what we’re doing.”
Hopefully that isn’t code for “Don’t worry about us—we’ll already be dead.” But I figure Grandpa really does know what he’s doing, since he’s got a lot of experience with this kind of thing and is also really badass.
Gordon might not want me to be like my grandpa, but I could do a hell of a lot worse.
Grandpa signals for us to get going, and I guess this is it. I go with the Cheshire Spider and the Reflector, heading around to the back of the building.
“Whoa.” The Cheshire Spider grabs my arm as I’m about to turn the corner. “What do you think you’re doing?”
I’m not sure how to answer that, since it’s pretty obvious I’m doing what Grandpa said.
“Cameras,” the Reflector whispers, pointing them out to me. “You have to take them out before you go walking in front of them.” She exchanges an exasperated look with the Cheshire Spider.
“I didn’t sign up to be a goddamned babysitter,” he mutters under his breath, but still plenty loud enough for me to hear. “I don’t know what he’s thinking, during an emergency.”
Great. They think I’m some stupid kid who’s only here because my grandpa’s their leader. Which I guess is kind of true. My face heats up, and a hot, prickly feeling spreads through my chest. But I ignore it—or at least try to—and zap the three security cameras. I blast them a little harder than necessary, both because I’m pissed off and because I want to make sure there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that I did it right.
Neither of them acknowledges me or my accomplishment. They hurry around the corner and over to a door. It has a card reader instead of a normal lock.
“Your job’s done,” the Cheshire Spider says to me, while the Reflector gets out a plastic ID card to swipe. “You can go wait in the van.”
“What? No way. Grandpa said—”
“He said for you to take out the security cameras. You did that. I don’t need some hero kid getting in our way in there. Last I heard, you were on their side. And if I can’t trust you, then—”
“It’s not working,” the Reflector says, interrupting him. She swipes the card again, even though she just did it three times in a row. She swears and looks like she’s about to try and kick the door down in frustration.
The Cheshire Spider takes the card and tries again. “They must have reconfigured it.” There’s a note of desperation in his voice. He glances back the way we came, like Grandpa and the others might be there with an answer. Or like he’s thinking of making his escape, but I’m going to assume Grandpa has better people working with him than that, even if this guy is kind of a douche.
“I can open it.” I glare at the Cheshire Spider and don’t look away, daring him to tell me I should just go back to the van again.
He raises his eyebrows. “Open it, or blast it to smithereens?”
The Reflector folds her arms. “What difference does it make? We need to get in there. Now.”
“If we blast it down, we’ll have heroes all over us, like that.” He snaps his fingers. “We might as well have left the security cameras on.”
“I don’t have to blast it,” I tell them, even though I didn’t know I was going to say that until it came out of my mouth. “I can take out the knob. Melt it, I mean.” I know Grandpa’s done it before. Or, at least, I’m pretty sure he’s told me he has. I’ve never actually seen him do it.
The Cheshire Spider snorts in disbelief.
“Let him try it,” the Reflector says. “Unless you have a better idea. We’re running out of time.”
“And if we get caught, we’re a
ll dead. Do you understand that, kid?” he says, staring me down. “You screw this up, and rescuing those guys will be the least of our worries. So you’d better be damn sure you can do this.”
Crap. I glance over at the doorknob. I’m not sure. Not completely. But what choice do I have? I stare right back at him and say, “I’ve done it before. I’ve got this.” Which is a total lie, and I don’t even think I’m fooling anyone with it.
But he must realize there’s no other option, because he steps aside and gestures to the door.
I don’t hesitate. I pretend I really have done this before and hold my hand in front of the knob. I turn on my lightning, making electricity surge between my palm and the metal. It’s not enough—I know it’s not—and I concentrate, focusing more power into it. I remember what Grandpa said earlier, about not holding back. The truth is, I don’t know what that feels like, except in extreme situations, like when someone’s trying to kill me or the people I care about. I can’t recreate that, and even if I could, it would be too much.
It doesn’t help that the Cheshire Spider and the Reflector are practically breathing down my neck, watching and waiting for me to screw up. And it doesn’t help that there are Truth members trapped inside this building, depending on us to rescue them from the League. And if I can’t do this, they’re going to die, and we’re all probably going to get caught. Then the next time Gordon sees me, it’ll be on the local news, with some douchey guy from the League bragging about how they always knew I’d go back to my villain roots and that it was just a matter of time.
I push those thoughts away, because even if it’s all true, it’s not making this any easier. Instead, I concentrate on increasing my power. Electricity crackles in the air, and I can feel the heat radiating back at me from the doorknob. Sweat prickles along my back from the effort, and I realize I’m clenching my jaw.
But then the knob starts to melt. Slowly. And it’s just the very front, not even the whole knob, and certainly not the mechanism inside. But it’s happening.
I don’t know how much time passes as I watch it disappear. It feels like forever. And then, just like that, it’s over. The knob is gone, the mechanism in the middle melts out, and there’s a clang as the other half drops to the floor.
The door swings open, and we’re in.
The dark, grainy video clips of the interrogation-site basement didn’t do it justice. It’s the creepiest place I’ve ever seen. The above-ground part of the building might look like an office, but down here looks like a prison. There are actually cells. It’s obvious there are people in some of them, even though the cells don’t have any windows, because of the moaning and crying. A few prisoners bang on their doors when we creep by and scream to be let out.
The video didn’t capture all that, or the smell. It’s like the worst bathroom ever, mixed with rotting blood and vomit. When I caught my first whiff of it, I had to try not to gag.
The Cheshire Spider and the Reflector hurry past the cells, heading straight for the actual room where the League does its interrogating. And even though I knew the League was bad news, and even though I didn’t have any doubts about that video footage being real, I still can’t believe this. It’s too horrible to be true.
The Reflector listens with her ear pressed to the door, then nods. “They’re in there.”
The Cheshire Spider pulls a set of lockpicks out of his pocket and gets to work. He winces when there’s a shout inside the room, like he’s afraid he’s been caught already, but it’s followed by screaming, and no one comes over.
A chill washes over me, and the hair on my arms stands on end. This has been going on for years. Years. And nobody cared. Or at least not enough to do anything.
There’s another shout, and this time I can make out the words. “Tell us their names! A list of names and powers, and all this goes away!”
The Cheshire Spider fumbles with the lockpicks, his hands shaking.
“They’ve been trained,” the Reflector whispers. “To resist torture. They won’t give anything up.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “And if they don’t? Then what?” I’m pretty sure I already know the answer, but I ask it anyway.
“Then they’re dead.”
The Cheshire Spider suddenly motions for us to be quiet and stops working on the lock. He sits perfectly still, his head tilted toward the hallway, listening.
The Reflector listens, too. “Footsteps.”
He nods. “Someone’s coming. We have to get in there now. Blast it open!”
It takes me a second to realize he means me. I put my ear to the door real quick to make sure no one’s standing right behind it. Which is hard to tell, but I have to at least try.
“What are you doing?” the Cheshire Spider hisses. “Do you want to die? Is that it?”
I glare at him. “You need me, so shut up.”
His jaw clenches and his whole face turns red.
I take a step back from the door and hold up my hands. Lightning sparks along my arms. The footsteps are getting closer. Two guys, talking about the news. They don’t know we’re here yet, but any second they’re going to turn the corner and find us. Or hear the door explode. Either way, we’re in serious trouble.
I channel my fear over getting caught—and of what might happen afterward—and my anger at the fact that this place even exists. People like Gordon and Riley and Sarah, they believe in the League. And I might never have cared about it, but they do, and I hate whoever started all this and let them down. They deserve an institution that actually honors its ideals, even if those ideals are really stupid.
“Now,” the Cheshire Spider says through clenched teeth. “If you don’t, we’re—”
I blast the door as hard as I can. I don’t know if I can destroy the whole door at once, and I only have one shot before they know we’re here, so I aim for the knob. There’s a loud crack and a booming noise. The knob and a huge chunk of the door explode inward.
There’s immediate shouting, both inside the interrogation room and down the hall. We run inside the room. A superhero shoots an ice beam directly at us. The Reflector throws her hands up in front of her, and the ice beam hits some kind of energy shield and disintegrates.
I look around, noticing that there’s only one prisoner in here, not three. There are, however, three superheroes in here now, since the two from the hall came running when they heard the blast. “How did they get in here?!” one of them shouts.
“Cover me!” the Cheshire Spider says as he makes a run for the prisoner, who’s chained to the wall.
The prisoner desperately shakes his head, even though he’s got blood on his face and one of his hands is black with frostbite. “They have the others! They’re in the holding cells—you have to help them, not me! They’ve got Larissa!” That last part comes out a sob.
The Reflector backs toward him and deflects another ice beam. “For God’s sake, shoot them!” she screams, practically knocking me over as she spins to block an energy blast from one of the other heroes.
My heart races. Time feels like it’s moving too fast and too slow at the same time. I wish more than anything that my friends were here instead of these strangers. But they’re not. I have to make it through this on my own.
One of the superheroes from the hallway takes off running for the exit, saying something about getting backup. I don’t think and I don’t hesitate—I hold up my hand and zap him. It’s just enough to knock him to the floor, where he lands hard but is still moving. His friend shoots more energy at us, and I attack him, too, except I only get him in the arm. Still, he cries out and stops using his power on us, at least for now.
“What the hell was that?” the Reflector says. “You call that helping?!” Sweat glistens on her forehead, and the effort of using her energy shield so much is obviously taking its toll.
But I don’t want to kill these people, even if they’ve done terrible things and probably deserve it. Not unless I absolutely have to.
And I re
alize that Grandpa’s right—I only have two modes, and just zapping people a little isn’t enough.
I aim at the superhero with the ice powers. Just as I’m about to blast him, the Reflector’s energy shield flickers and stops working. She shoves me to the floor, saving both of us from getting hit, while also making my lightning miss its target. It’s way stronger than I meant it to be, thanks to her startling me, and it tears a chunk out of the wall.
“We have to go!” she calls over her shoulder to the Cheshire Spider.
“Not yet!” he says. “I’ve almost got it!”
“There’s no time!”
“Please,” the prisoner sobs, “you have to find Larissa.”
The Reflector’s right, there isn’t time. I don’t know how we’re going to get out of here as it is. And whatever the Cheshire Spider’s doing to free the prisoner is taking too long. I glance over at the chains attached to the wall. There’s not enough space—they’ll get hit with some of the debris—but it’s better than what these heroes are going to do to us.
I try one more time to hit the guy with ice powers. I’m getting tired and my nerves are shot, and it would be so easy to just blast him as hard as I can. But I don’t. My lightning hits him in the foot, which isn’t where I was aiming, but it messes him up enough to buy me some time.
“Watch out!” I tell the others, and then I blast the chains on the wall. Bits of brick and metal rain down on the Cheshire Spider and the prisoner, but they’re alive, and it works. He’s free.
There’s a clang on the other side of the room. I move to zap the hero with ice powers again, but it’s not him. A door fell out of its frame, and Grandpa and Grandma and their other team member come rushing in. Grandpa quickly assesses the situation and takes out the heroes, using just the right amount of power to disable them and not kill them. Though I’m only assuming that last part.
“Time to hightail it,” Grandpa says. “This whole place knows we’re here by now.”
“The others,” the prisoner whimpers. “You have to save the others.”
Grandpa looks at him with pity, but he shakes his head, because it’s obvious there’s no time to save anyone else. My stomach twists at the thought of leaving anyone behind. I don’t know these people, but I imagine if it was Kat, or Riley, or even Amelia, and how desperate I would be to get them out, even if it meant risking everything.
The Betrayal of Renegade X (Renegade X, Book 3) Page 24
