Superheroes Suck

by Jamie Zakian

  “I’ll be fine. The bots will only absorb Jenna’s essence, not mine.” Shay walked to the nanobot chamber, and Hetal followed on her heels.

  “It’s a foreign object,” Hetal said, on the verge of a tantrum. “Your body could reject the nanobots, go into shock.”

  “Duh. That’s why I got a bunch of epinephrine and atropine.”

  A long gasp burst from Hetal’s mouth. “I’m not that kind of doctor. My PhD is in physics.”

  “You’re smart. And we have the internet.” Shay pulled on thick rubber gloves then opened the small door to the nanobot chamber. “What more do you need?”

  Huffs and puffs rang out behind Shay, but she barely heard them. Her ears belonged to the machine’s gentle hum, her eyes stuck on the green glow of creation. Hetal was missing it. History was being made in this room and instead of marveling, Hetal grumbled. It kind of ruined the moment.

  After collecting every bot into a syringe, Shay stepped back from the machine. A stillness had swept through the lab. Hetal must’ve finally grasped the gravity of this situation, since her eyes now shined with awe.

  “If your heart stops, I’m resuscitating you immediately,” Hetal said.

  Shay handed the needle full of microscopic molecular-based computers to Hetal and shook off her gloves. “I need eight minutes overall.”

  “Three minutes with no oxygen and you’ll likely suffer serious brain damage.”

  “Five minutes then?” Shay batted her eyes, clasping her hands together to plead.

  “I’ll give you two minutes if your heart stops, regardless of overall time.” Hetal held her hand out firm. “That’s it.”

  “Deal.”

  A flock of reporters crowded the sidewalk outside Ling Enterprises. They bombarded Evie the moment she stepped from the passenger seat of her sedan. Key words from their questions stuck in her head. Shay, asylum, battle. It baffled her how the media always knew so much.

  At least she had the smarts to shower and change. She’d look cold and shrill on the news tonight—pushing past reporters as she ignored them—but she’d look stylish and fresh while doing it.

  The brand-new doors of Ling Enterprises closed behind Evie and blocked out the shouts, camera clicks … even the standard drone of city life. Silence surrounded her, and it was pure bliss. She only got about two seconds to enjoy the silence. Three superheroes hurried across the lobby, toward her. They had just as many questions as the reporters outside, maybe more.

  “No.” Evie swatted her hand, and like flies, the super-people moved back from her face. “I need an hour of chill time with my sister before I can deal with all this.”

  “Shay’s busy,” Alexie said, crossing her arms. “Something about girly scientist stuff.”

  “I’m crashing that party.” Evie turned on her heels. She walked toward the elevator and Max followed her.

  “What?” She jabbed the down button, again, and again.

  “Where’s Lucius and Cyrus?”

  Finally, the elevator door opened. Evie hurried inside and of course, since the universe hated her, Max tagged along.

  “Why?” she asked, unable to curb her snippy tone. “You hoping to score some visitation time with your old pals?”

  “You’re one to talk. I know all about you and Cyrus.”

  The elevator rocked to a stop but Evie’s stomach kept sinking. There was no her and Cyrus. She had fallen for Fitz, not a megalomaniacal super-jerk. Oh, but Max knew. Pretty soon, the entire city would think they knew as well.

  Evie hurried off the elevator, squeezing out its door before it could fully open, but she couldn’t shake Max. He followed her into the narrow hallway, keeping close to her side.

  “Who’s to say you’re not a villain? You’ve been sneaking around with Cyrus for the last three months.”

  Evie slammed her hand against the wall, which stopped Max short in a wobble.

  “There was no sneaking. I choose not to introduce the men in my life to Shay. When they leave, it crushes her. Like losing Dad all over again.”

  Evie’s stare on Max turned venomous without her consent. “That’s why I don’t want you messing with her. Shay should have a normal life—go on dates, hold hands at the movies, make out by the lake—with someone her own age.”

  Hurt filled Max’s gaze, which he lowered to his feet. It looked like he got the message. It also looked like his heart broke into a million jagged pieces.

  Evie could be wrong. Shay and Max could be the only two people in the world who truly loved each other, and she was the thing standing between them. Parenting, if only it were as easy as clearing an incident scene. Children should come with an instruction manual.

  “I’m sorry, Max, but—”

  A long steady beep streamed down the hallway behind Evie. The sound ignited a whirl of panic in her mind. It was a screech that accompanied all her nightmares. She’d never forget the wail of death that stole her parents, the scream of a heart monitor as it flat-lined. The loud beep didn’t belong here, not in the corridor that led to her sister’s lab.

  Evie ran down the hall that seemed to spin, toward Shay … toward the sound of her worst memories.

  Gray puffs of smoke gathered around Shay, rising in front of her like a wall. She reached for the barrier of clouds. It wasn’t solid like she expected. Her arm went right through, but the smoke didn’t part. This place was different than the realm she usually slipped into when unconscious. It had the same stupid clouds, but the air was colder … emptier.

  “Great,” Shay said, her voice echoing off unseen walls. “I must be dead.”

  This was it, home. Her own dimensional holding plain of boredom. This had to be a punishment for playing God with souls that weren’t hers to control.

  “Shay?”

  A soft voice, barely a peep, called out in the distance. It could’ve been Jenna. Shay would really like to know. If only these damn clouds would part, she could find out.

  Anger surged within her, and brought a tingle that coursed through her veins. It prickled every stitch of her flesh. When the sensation hit her fingertips, the wall of smoke in front of her peeled back. Pillars of gray mist towered at her sides, leaving a clear path straight ahead.

  “Shay.”

  The shout was louder now, definitely Jenna. Shay hurried along the swells of smog, which rolled over each other as an invisible force held them back. An icy breeze blew against her chest, forcing her backward. Her hair whipped her face, and the roaring gusts of wind fought her every step.

  “Jenna,” Shay cried out, unable to hear her own call above the wind’s howl. Fingers wrapped around her wrist, and someone pulled her to the side.

  Into the wall of clouds Shay went; blind, except for the shimmer in the air. There was no cold here, no heat. It was strange, to exist yet feel absolutely nothing at all.

  Just when Shay thought she might cry or giggle, the haze shrank back and Jenna stood before her. They both smiled, at almost the same time. When Shay moved in for a hug, Jenna leaned back.

  “No time for your mushy shit,” Jenna said. “We gotta move.” She pointed over her shoulder then latched onto Shay’s arm, pulling her forward.

  In between running and swatting smoke, Shay glimpsed a giant metal sphere hovering overhead. Two red lasers beamed from its shiny surface, like evil crimson eyes. It scanned the ground below, racing through the fog after them.

  “Left,” Jenna yelled.

  Before Shay could think, Jenna yanked her to the left. She almost ate clouds, but her feet found traction and cut to the side.

  “Wait.” Shay jerked her arm but Jenna held tight, only slowing the mad-dash to a crazy sprint. “That’s the thing. Your way out.”

  That stopped Jenna in her tracks and Shay collided with her back.

  “You did it?” Jenna asked, her voice quavering.

  Dread. That what Shay saw in Jenna’s stare, sheer dread.

  “You wanted me to, right?�
� Shay took Jenna by the hand. “Please tell me you wanted me to.”

  “No. I do. I just thought I’d have more—”

  A creak cut off Jenna’s words as an oversized nanobot burst through the clouds. Its red laser struck the ground. The glow bathed the fog in a scarlet glimmer, growing brighter as the huge silver ball zigzagged closer.

  Shay flinched when Jenna’s arms wrapped around her body. She wasn’t expecting a hug but sure could use one right now, so she hugged Jenna back.

  “Things got away from me,” Jenna whispered. “I’ll have to leave them behind. Forgive me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Me neither.” Jenna kissed Shay on the cheek then shoved her back. “Run, that way.”

  Jenna pointed at the clouds beside Shay, which floated in front of more clouds.

  “I don’t see anything,” Shay said.

  “There’s a portal. It’ll take you back, but you have to go now.”

  “Go where?”

  A nanobot whirled to a stop midair just behind Jenna. The enlarged sphere, which had been microscopic when Shay injected it into her body, crept closer to Jenna. Its hum vibrated the air, and more nanobots glinted as they cut through the clouds in the distance.

  Jenna smiled as she backed away from Shay. “It’s been real.”

  There was a hardness in Jenna’s expression. It was a brave front; Shay could tell by the tremble in Jenna’s fingertips. The nanobot’s bright red laser beam flooded over Jenna. She waved goodbye to Shay as the laser pulsed around her.

  Shay shielded her eyes, backing away from the flashes of crimson light. A portal hid somewhere out there in the fog, a gateway to her awaiting body. She should be sprinting through the clouds, but she couldn’t leave Jenna to face this alone.

  Two more nanobots zoomed in from one side, three more floating in from the rear. A cascade of lasers fell over Jenna. Her body was lifted into the air toward the massive bots floating overhead.

  Time seemed to slow as Jenna rose off the ground, farther away from Shay. A hint of hope shined in Jenna’s eyes, clouded by the mounds of terror.

  The lasers around Jenna surged. Its flash brought tears to Shay’s eyes, but she didn’t look away. Though she could no longer see Jenna beyond the light’s glare, she wanted to hold a confident stare, just in case Jenna could see her.

  In the brief moments when the pulsing red light dimmed, Shay glimpsed a whirlwind of sparkles drift up the wide laser beams. Those glittery flecks were Jenna. They glistened and spiraled toward monstrous silver orbs in a graceful dance.

  A true superhero was ripped to atomic particles and sucked into nanobots. Then, she was gone. Every speck of Jenna Reagan had been swept from this hellish world of gray clouds within Shay’s mind.

  Jenna had done more in her seventeen years than most people could experience during an entire lifetime. Knowing that didn’t soothe the ache in Shay’s chest. Jenna had been taken too soon.

  “I’ll miss you,” Shay whispered as a warm tear streaked along her cheek.

  The red laser beams shifted, right to Shay’s chest. She jogged backward, and a pack of giant nanobots floated after her.

  “Crap.” In a squeal of sneakers, Shay turned from the flock of soul-thirsty bio-computers and ran into the clouds.

  Evie stepped inside the lab and her legs locked in place. She refused to believe what she saw. Her body had known, her mind had been expecting, but her eyes wouldn’t process the sight of her sister lying dead on a cold steel table.

  Hetal zapped Shay with a defibrillator. Shay’s body flopped against the table it lay still upon and Evie turned away. She didn’t have to look. The relentless shriek of a flat-line reminded her that Shay was dead, that her reason for living was over.

  “What happened?” Max yelled as he ran past Evie. He bent over Shay, breathing into her mouth.

  “She’s dead,” Evie sputtered. She was caught in the middle of the room, forced to stare at Shay’s pale skin, limp fingers … empty eyes.

  “No!” Evie ran to Hetal’s side. She grabbed Hetal by the shirt and shook. “Bring her back.”

  “I’m trying.” Hetal dropped the defibrillator’s paddles and jammed a wide needle into Shay’s chest.

  “What is that?” Max asked between the breaths of air he breathed into Shay’s lungs.

  “Pure adrenaline.” Hetal tossed the empty syringe aside and fumbled for the paddles, their wires tangling. “I just need one good jolt to her heart.”

  Max pushed Hetal aside and slammed his fist against Shay’s chest, directly over her heart.

  A violent quake knocked Shay to her knees. She tried to push herself back to her feet, and another tremor dropped her face down in the clouds. Lightning struck the ground beside her, so close its heat singed her skin.

  Shay climbed to her feet. The six giant nanobots that chased her now swerved wildly through the air. They crashed against each other, bouncing off the cloud-strewn floor. Hetal must have hit her body with the defibrillator, because the nanobots were shorting out and they were on an uncontrollable rampage toward her.

  “Double crap.” Shay ran. Hard jolts rocked the ground, knocking her off balance, yet she kept going.

  Two nanobots slammed together right above her head. Metal grinded and sparks showered onto her shoulders. A loud crash shook the ground, which split beneath Shay’s running feet. She peeked behind her and all the oxygen swept from her lungs.

  It took her a few seconds to grasp. See, it wasn’t every day a person watched giant fiery nanobots roll toward them, but that happened today and it was happening to her.

  Shay pushed her muscles until they scorched, sprinting faster across the ground that disintegrated below her feet. Gusts of blistery wind nipped at her back. She could smell her hair burning, which totally pissed her off and drove her to run faster.

  Behind Shay, nanobots bounced into each other like pinballs. Every collision shuddered her body, and widened the fissures spreading along the ground.

  A fire-laced breeze parted the clouds in front of Shay. Amid the gray plumes, a hint of color shined. It had to be the portal.

  The smog cleared the closer she got to the shimmer. It was a portal. A small circle of white light tore through dimensional walls, growing smaller by the seconds. It sat midair, like a mirror attached to clouds. Its surface rippled, yet it showed an image of herself lying dead on a table clearly.

  An explosion blasted, ringing in Shay’s ears. Six flaming nanobots raced toward her, on all sides. They groaned, growled, reflected her fear off their dented curves.

  Shay dove headfirst for the portal. Nanobots smashed against one another, lightning splintered out in thick bolts, and a burst of flames propelled Shay into a glass-like image of herself.

  Silence clung to the lab. It had only lasted seconds, but in that time Evie couldn’t breathe, think, or even move. Then, high-pitched beeps rang out from the heart monitor beside Shay. They were strong, quick, a symbol of her sister’s heart beating.

  Evie waited for Shay to sit up and say something quirky, but the body on the table still looked dead. Her sister didn’t move, except for the tiny rise and fall of her chest.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Evie looked at Hetal. The woman was supposed to be a genius, but all Evie saw was a frightened girl in a lab coat.

  “I don’t know,” Hetal said, her voice wavering. Metal clanked as Hetal pushed instruments around on a small tray. She lifted a large magnet in one hand and a giant needle in the other. “I have to complete the procedure.”

  “The hell you do.” Evie pushed Hetal back from Shay, but Hetal returned for seconds.

  “I have to,” Hetal yelled.

  Evie shrank down. She was a bit shocked to hear that fierce tone rumble from such a mousey girl.

  “If I don’t finish, Shay will kill me and then try this again.” Hetal held the magnet to the back of Shay’s neck and inserted the needle beside it.

 
“What did she do to herself?”

  Hetal glanced at Evie. In the seconds their eyes connected, Evie glimpsed a deep sorrow.

  “Shay injected herself with nanobots.” Hetal removed the needle from Shay and held it up to the light, peering into the syringe’s glass tube. “To collect Jenna’s soul. There’s six here. I got them all.”

  “Did it work?” Max asked, staring at the needle in Hetal’s hand.

  “Did she know?” Evie almost choked on her words but she forced them out of her lumpy throat. “Did Shay know she could die?”

  Hetal placed the magnet and syringe on a tray, her stare caught on the floor. “Yes. We also anticipated the possibility of permanent brain damage.”

  “How could she be this selfish?” Evie slapped her hand over her own mouth. Damn these words, which just kept flying at liberty from her loose lips.

  “She’s not—” Hetal took one look at Evie’s harsh glare, and the temporary courage she displayed fizzled out.

  “She did it for Jenna,” Hetal mumbled, softly.

  “Jenna? Shay doesn’t even know Jenna. I’m her sister. I need her.”

  Evie closed her eyes in attempts to stop her tears, but they gushed out anyway. She couldn’t do this. The person in charge couldn’t lose it, not in front of the team. She had to get out of this room, then she could sob uncontrollably somewhere in private.

  By some miracle, her wobbly legs carried her backward toward the lab’s door. She turned to run and crashed against Simon’s chest.

  “Evie?” Simon placed his hand on Evie’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  Both Simon and Alexie stared at Evie in confusion, which she could handle. It was the sympathetic gazes to come that would cripple her.

  She shrugged out of Simon’s grasp and ran down the hallway. The elevator door came and went, yet she kept going. She didn’t know where this narrow corridor led, and she didn’t care. She just had to get away.