How to Save the World

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How to Save the World Page 20

by Lexie Dunne


  Kiki whirled on the stool. Her aura in my brain, which we’d started working to develop, turned yellow with alarm. “Who is it this time?”

  “Who’s what this time?” I asked.

  Angélica ignored me. “They got War Hammer.”

  “Wait,” I said, on my feet before I even thought about it. “Who got Guy?”

  Kiki and Angélica exchanged a look that I couldn’t read, even being on the same frequency as Kiki. Angélica turned to me. “Not Guy. Sam. He came back when Davenport reached out to him.”

  “They could reach him the whole time?” I asked, offended. Guy had been so upset when his brother had vanished into the ether without a word. But Davenport had known where he was all along?

  “That’s not important,” Angélica said. “What’s important is that he’s missing.”

  I caught a tendril of thought from Kiki’s brain, likely before she could stop it, and turned to look at her. “He’s not the only one, is he? Something’s going on.”

  The look the two shared was more than enough confirmation.

  CHAPTER 19

  Missing superheroes.

  It just figured.

  Guy’s reaction to finding out his brother had returned and had subsequently vanished was to head straight for the closet, unbuttoning his shirt. He stopped halfway there with a puzzled, lost look on his face.

  “What did Eddie say?” Guy said, looking at me as I sat on the edge of the bed, kicking idly at a pile of his shirts on the floor. He might be an amazing chef, but a neat freak he would never be. “There’s a briefing, right?”

  “I didn’t go. Angélica did, though.” I filled him in on what I knew. Davenport didn’t have much, except that their biggest names on the roster were disappearing one by one. All signs pointed to the Demobilizer being involved, and nobody had seen Brook. She certainly hadn’t been sighted with Tamara Diesel, whose goons had happily been running around fighting every hero they possibly could. It was a free-­for-­all worse than the time Atlanta had hosted the Olympics and the heroes and villains had treated the international competition as their own good vs. evil party.

  When I was done telling him everything I knew, Guy dropped his head back, clearly trying to rein in his temper. “This has been happening for a while, hasn’t it?”

  “Yup.” Our friends had all worked together to keep us in the dark. Guy didn’t need the stress, according to Kiki. Angélica had thought keeping me off of Eddie’s radar was for the best. This way he didn’t send me in to single-­handedly face off against the biggest villains on Tamara Diesel’s roster.

  “You’re not ready for it,” she’d told me bluntly. “The fact that you survived two encounters with that woman is enough of a miracle. Let’s not push our luck.”

  I’d argued that I could help. Kiki had argued back that since Tamara by now knew my powers had come from the same man who had created the Demobilizer, it was better that I stay underground. The situation was too hot, especially for anybody as close to it as I was.

  At least I wasn’t alone in being annoyed by them. Now, twenty minutes later, Guy paced the room, something that was usually my shtick. “Sam’s back,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “And now they can’t find him,” he said, going on like I hadn’t spoken.

  “Yes,” I said again.

  Guy pushed his hands through his hair. “He’s vanished before. It might not even be related to this. Hell, maybe he came back, decided it was too much, and left again.”

  “It could be.”

  “It might not even be Tamara Diesel. Maybe Brook found him and that Bookman trigger isn’t as gone as she claimed. Maybe she has him.”

  I shook my head. “It feels too convenient for that. Tamara Diesel’s crew is going after the heavy hitters. If anybody has Sam, it’s her.”

  Guy didn’t speak for a moment. “Kiki needs to convince Mobius to make that antidote. I need to rescue them.”

  He didn’t sound happy about it.

  “They have other ­people that can rescue them,” I said.

  “But he’s my brother. I should be out there helping find him.”

  I bit my lip. “Are you feeling guilty over the fact that you still don’t want your powers back?”

  His miserable nod confirmed it. Since I didn’t really have words for that, I reached out and grabbed his hand, linking my fingers through his. He sat down next to me, heavily.

  “It’s okay, you know,” I said. “You sacrificed your personal life for years.”

  And his relationship with his brother, and he’d lost a sister. He’d given so much to the mask and, seeing him free of it, seeing how carefree he suddenly felt, was like a quiet pang in my chest.

  “You shouldn’t be too mad at them, you know,” Guy said out of nowhere. I gave him a questioning look. “Angélica and Kiki. Not for trying to keep us out of everything that’s going on. I understand why. It’s the law of proximity.”

  “The what?”

  “The closer you are to superheroes, the more likely you are to get screwed over.”

  Like Jeremy, I realized. Before he’d sacrificed himself to help take out Cooper, everybody surrounding him had superpowers. And now he was in a coma deep underground with static sparking between his fingers. The same held true for me. Four years being kidnapped by every villain in Chicago had dropped me square in the middle of Mobius and Rita Detmer’s plan to save Kiki and had landed me with Mobium, which was hopelessly entangled in the latest crises facing the superpowered world. And Guy, just by being close to me, had been in prime position to lose his powers.

  Law of proximity indeed.

  “It’s a little late for them to be keeping us out of the loop,” I said. “We’re already here, we’re already screwed. You know?”

  “Yeah, I know.” Guy pinched the bridge of his nose.

  We heard nothing new that night, but Guy didn’t sleep well, no doubt worried about his brother. In the morning, he cooked breakfast and went to meet up with Angélica for training. Part of the acclimation period to adjust to his new powers and test his newfound lack of strength, I imagined. After he left, I debated grabbing a snack. For once, I was all caught up on my favorite soap opera, so I didn’t need to check in on Chance’s torrid affair with the evil Lucinda. Shrugging, I picked up my new phone—­Guy had replaced the destroyed one, insisting that he didn’t mind the cost and I shouldn’t, either—­and tucked it in my pocket before heading into the main part of Davenport Complex. The one nice thing about staying in New York instead of Chicago was that I had unfettered access to visit Jeremy.

  His face was completely slack, with absolutely no change, when I stepped in. But his visitor caught me off guard.

  “Gail,” Kiki said, looking up from where she was reading Jeremy’s chart. She gave me a small, sad smile.

  “Hey, Ki. I didn’t know you two were friends.”

  “It’s a nice place to think. Nobody bothers me here. Mostly I read my thesis to him and update him on scientific subjects I imagine would actually put him to sleep if he was awake.” Kiki’s smile gained a little more humor. “They do actually put Angélica to sleep.”

  “I’m not surprised,” I said, poking Jeremy and receiving a small shock for my trouble. “He’s pretty nerdy. If it’s true that he can hear us, he probably enjoys it on some level. At least you’re making him smarter. He could use it.”

  By reflex, I glanced at his face. For a while, I’d tried insulting Jeremy, thinking if I found just the right combination, he’d awake in a spluttering ire and insult me back. It hadn’t happened yet.

  Kiki started to push herself up from her chair, but I waved at her. “You don’t have to leave, not on my account.”

  I could actually feel a little of her indecisiveness as she mulled it over, which was strange. She finally nodded and settled back in. “Do you visit him muc
h?” she asked.

  “When my best buddy Marsh the security guard decides not to be an asshole and lets me come over. Sometimes I bring one of his handheld games,” I said. “But the problem is that I’m getting too good at them, and I don’t want to beat all of his levels. Just some of them. He needs something to live for.”

  “Braggart,” Kiki said, her tone teasing. She ran her fingers through her ponytail, twisting them through her hair. “I wish I could do more for him.”

  “Do you think the Demobilizer would help him?” I asked. With every day that passed, it was obvious that we probably weren’t getting back the Demobilizer Brook had taken. And Mobius would only make it to remove superheroes from the fold. I doubted very much he’d care about a coma patient, not unless it saved his granddaughter somehow.

  From the way Kiki shook her head, tightly, she’d come to the same conclusion. “He’s a brilliant man, but not a good one.”

  “Shame,” I said. “Too bad we can’t convince Mobius you’re in mortal peril or something. He’s helpful then.”

  My phone buzzed with a new text message from Raze, the twelfth that day. She really was not enjoying her convalescence, not when there were things outside to shoot and promised battles to be had. I fired back a text telling her to behave.

  When I looked up, Kiki was frowning at Jeremy’s face.

  “Something on your mind?” I asked.

  She jerked like she’d forgotten I was there. I raised my eyebrows at her. “No,” she said. “No, I’m good. Just remembered something in the lab. If you’ll excuse me?”

  “See ya,” I said, and Kiki hurried off, leaving me with Jeremy.

  Immediately, I propped my feet on the bed. I’d get scolded if a nurse caught me, but I didn’t care. I flicked through the magazine I’d brought until I found an article that would make Jeremy grind his teeth were he awake. “Time to wake up, buddy,” I said. “Or you’re going to hear all about what this article on perfecting smoky eye has to say. And trust me, it’s a doozy. I think they paid the writer by the word.”

  I glanced at his face. No reaction.

  “You brought this on yourself,” I said, and began to read aloud.

  I stayed for a ­couple of hours, though I didn’t read the whole time. Instead, I talked, filling him in on everything. I was pretty sure I was fired since I hadn’t been to work in a week, and that meant either job hunting or going back under Davenport’s umbrella. It might not be all bad. Jessie Davenport seemed to like me enough to protect me from Eddie, and that was a handy friendship to have. Once they stopped locking us inside, Guy could go to culinary school like he’d dreamed, and Jeremy could wake up and meet Raze. She really could use more enemies.

  The only movement from Jeremy during all these musings was from the little blue crackles between his fingers and occasionally around his ears. “Good talk,” I said, patting his hand and grimacing at the zap. “I’ll be by again soon. I hear blue eye shadow’s making a comeback. I bet I can find an article with lots of purple prose. So you might want to wake up before then, Jer.”

  It was stupid to hope, but I glanced at his face one last time and left.

  In the corridor, I heard Naomi call my name. I turned and watched her trot up, wanting to shake my head. Due to the house arrest, she was stuck in the Davenport Industries uniform, and it was weird to see her out of her hipster gear and in a pressed polo shirt. At least I’d had a few outfits in Guy’s New York place and didn’t have to suffer the same fate.

  “Any other missing heroes I should know about?” I asked when she reached me.

  She had the grace to look ashamed. “It wasn’t my idea to keep you two in the dark. But still, my bad. And no, nobody else is missing.”

  That much was a relief.

  “Sort of,” Naomi corrected herself. “Have you seen Kiki? We were supposed to meet up to review some more of Mobius’s notes and she’s not answering my texts.”

  “She was visiting Jeremy a while ago, but she took off. Have you asked Angélica? She might know, on account of them being . . .” I crossed two fingers.

  Naomi laughed. “Finally caught on, have you?”

  That reaction made me somewhat grateful that at least Guy hadn’t known about the relationship, either. Perhaps Naomi was the only one that knew. Her observation skills could be their own superpower, really.

  “I’ll text Angélica,” Naomi said, shaking her head at my sour look. “Thanks, Gail.”

  “No problem,” I said, and we headed our separate ways.

  I made it to the end of the corridor when the walls and the floor tilted sharply to the left. Static rushed into my ears and filled my head. I hit the floor in an uncoordinated pile.

  “Gail!” Naomi’s footsteps sounded like thunder. Her voice rang like bells.

  “Gail—­” It wasn’t Naomi talking. This voice was blurry and distorted and all of my thoughts were too far from each other to connect. “Gail—­you get one chance—­”

  “Gail!” Naomi again. My world shuddered and everything in my head sloshed in response.

  “—­don’t waste it—­”

  “Somebody help! She’s having a seizure!”

  “—­make sure he gives you the antidote—­”

  “Help!”

  “—­and for god’s sake, save me—­”

  The words began to blur. Feminine, I thought. Familiar. I opened my eyes, but all I could see was white. Images began to pour in my head, so fast and so overwhelming that the white blinked out, leaving me with nothing but darkness.

  Mercifully, unconsciousness followed not too far after that.

  I opened my eyes to find Dr. Mobius’s ugly mug pushing into my face, and for one horrific second, I was back in that basement in the Chicago suburbs, being tormented by a mad scientist. A blink and I realized several things: I wasn’t wearing a thin hospital gown, my arms and legs weren’t shackled, I was in Medical, and there were several ­people in the room with varying degrees of worry shading their faces.

  “Ugh, get away from me,” I said.

  He scooted backward in his wheelchair with a sniff. “As you can see,” he said to everybody else in the room, “she is fine. Her seizures were not a result of my serum.”

  Guy immediately rushed forward and hugged me. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I rubbed my eyes, though my head didn’t actually hurt. “What happened? Why am I here?”

  “You fainted and had a seizure.” Naomi gave me a flat look, but I could see relief underneath. Her heart was pounding. “How about you don’t do that again, ever? You scared the ever-­loving shit out of me, Girl. What was that?”

  “I’m not sure.” Seizures were new. Teleporting meant migraines, phasing drained my energy, psychic manifestations messed with my memory. What nightmare would this bring? “I’m hungry.”

  A crap-­cake landed in my lap, courtesy of Angélica. I made a face at it.

  “Do you remember anything about what happened? Did a light flash or something?” Guy remained kneeling in front of the cot so that we were eye level for once.

  My mind was a blurry blank, so I shook my head. I remembered seeing Naomi in the corridor and I remembered talking to Jeremy beforehand. She was here, with Angélica and Guy, now. Looking around, though, made me realize that somebody was missing. “Where’s Kiki?”

  There was a pause as everybody looked at each other. “You were the last one to see her,” Guy said. “She didn’t say anything about where she was going, did she?”

  I shook my head again. “She’s not answering her phone?”

  “She left it here. The last thing on it is a text from her aunt,” Guy said. “We think. She deleted it.”

  Something poked at the edge of my brain, trying to break through the confusion. “That’s weird. Nobody goes anywhere without their cell phone unless they’re me. And that’s usuall
y because I broke it.”

  “Yes, but not everybody is as irresponsible with their possessions as you appear to be, Miss Godwin,” Mobius said, which I felt was a little unfair. He’d once stolen my phone, after all. And he was the reason I’d once been hit by a car, too, which had been the fate of my last phone. I opened my mouth to tell him as much—­and swayed on the spot.

  Dr. Mobius reached out to prod me with one of his bony fingers. “Tell me where my granddaughter is,” he said.

  “Shut up,” I said. His voice grated at my ears. It was a little distracting, but I was more concerned by the fact that an image had shown up in my head, unbidden, of a warehouse. I’d never been there, but it was in my head, feeling vaguely wrong. Like the colors were slightly off.

  Dr. Mobius drew himself up like an offended peacock. “I will have you know that you have no right to speak to me this way. I am a respected—­”

  “Shut up,” I said again. I pushed Guy’s hands back and clutched at my forehead. The warehouse faded from my mind, replaced with another image that was just as clear and just as off as the first. Street signs. My nose twitched, picking up the smell of water. The Lake, I realized. Lake Michigan. I was hallucinating someplace in Chicago.

  “Gail?” Naomi asked worriedly. Her voice no longer sounded panicked, like when she’d been shaking me in the corridor, not like the calm voice in my head.

  The voice in my head.

  My eyes snapped open as I finally put it all together. Kiki. She’d somehow used our mental bond to transmit information to me, things she’d seen with her own eyes, which was why they felt so foreign to mine. I could see it all clearly now: a text from Jessie that she’d deleted, images of her walking to the address Jessie had given her, the image of the warehouse, Kiki’s voice urging me not to waste the opportunity.

  It made me sick to my stomach, and furious. I breathed through my nose. Kiki, you idiot, I thought at her. Maybe she’d pick that up through the bond.

  “Gail?” Naomi said. “What is it?”

 

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