I Am Phantom

by Sean Fletcher

I sprinted pointlessly around trying to find people who needed help. There were only two kinds: the unhurt and the dead.

  My stomach suddenly heaved. Under the cover of rising smoke, I pulled off my mask and threw up. The splattering sound must have jolted my memory, for all I could think about after that was Cody’s final scream. The dorms.

  And I ran.

  I passed a few shell-shocked people stumbling up. They didn’t notice me, either dazedly looking around or focusing on the billowing plume of smoke rising from where my dorm was.

  The dorm looked worse than the street outside the gym.

  At least half of it was blown away; the once stark green lawn was blemished with furniture, rubble and debris and I heard screams from inside when I reached it. Thick black smoke rose above fires still raging on parts of the first and second floor. The rubble had smothered most of the flames. Where I once lived was unrecognizable.

  I jumped over scattered brick and mortar into what part of our hallway still remained standing. Slivers of paper reading: Am Phan—and shreds of Easter decorations that had been plastered on room doors blew by.

  I stepped over what was left of Cody’s room.

  “Cody!” I yelled. “Anybody!” I heard a muffled cry across the hall. It was a girl. Half her body was pinned beneath an overturned dresser. I heaved it off of her and carried her out to the lawn, laying her in the shade of a nearby tree.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled. She was too stunned to move, but didn’t look too hurt otherwise. For the next ten minutes I was on autopilot, carting wounded students back and forth from the dorm to the shade. I found some hurt, some still breathing. I found some bleeding or unconscious. I found some dead. Those I couldn’t bear to move. Their vacant eyes haunted me as though they knew this was all my fault. It was only the adrenaline that kept me from breaking down right there. Actually, I didn’t feel much of anything. Part of me, maybe the emotional part of me, had died for a bit.

  I returned to Cody’s room. “Cody!”

  I pushed aside the furniture, the rubble, the last of the laptop that had connected him to me moments before—

  “Cody!”

  I saw the glint of an earring and his spiky hair sticking out from the rest of the rubble.

  “Hold on, I’m coming.” I clawed at the dirt and tried pulling up the concrete slab he was under. The gloves contracted and dug into the brick and I heaved until my arms felt like they would rip off, but it wouldn’t move.

  Somebody grabbed me from behind and I spun, ready to fight, right in to the smoke-stained, tear-dried face of Melanie. Only then did I notice that ambulances and fire trucks surrounding the dorm. Some of them were helping the students I had lay beneath the tree.

  “You need to leave now, Drake,” Melanie said. Her voice was monotonous and stunned. She refused to look where Cody lay. “They’re here. They’ll help now but you can’t stay.”

  I shoved her off and kept digging but she grabbed me again.

  “They’ll arrest you! And then what will you be able to do?”

  “Let go! This is my fault. I can save Cody, I can save all of them!”

  “But not now! It doesn’t matter if you’re helping, they won’t care about that!” She glanced at a firefighter running towards us and shoved me away. “Go!”

  And again, for what felt like the hundredth time, against everything I felt and everything I wanted to do, I ran away.

  I didn’t even bother finding my motorcycle. Right now I needed to feel the pounding of my feet and sharp air in my lungs. Anything to remind me of something that once was enjoyable. I don’t know how far I ran into the city. I’m sure tons of people saw me but I didn’t care. I eventually found an abandoned apartment complex and scrambled up towards one of the windows.

  Halfway up the wall, my chest seized up like my costume was trying to crush me. My vision tunneled and I managed to lower myself a bit before my grip failed. I fell, slamming my back into some trashcans and rolling off. I waited for someone to come out into the alleyway and see me curled up in a ball, head throbbing and erratically breathing. The adrenaline was draining out of me. My limbs sagged like I had just finished a marathon. The realization of what had just happened hit again and I curled up tighter, my vision darkening from lack of air.

  “Breathe.” I heard Sonam’s frustratingly calm voice. “Breathe,” he commanded. Couldn’t he see me lying here? Couldn’t he see what had just happened?

  Breathe, Sonam repeated. “For you’re no good if you’re dead. Breathe.”

  Things had gotten so out of hand so fast. How could I have been so stupid?

  Air came suddenly followed by sobs. My hands unclenched and by the time three cars had passed I could sit up. I forced myself to move and mutely stood and finished climbing.

  I smashed in the window and without stopping punched the wall and collapsed on the floor. Blood ran from my fist and soaked the wood.

  In that moment I hated Sonam. I hated what he preached. I hated how the things he said about the world just seemed so simple and straightforward and made perfect sense like there were only two sides to everything. Like the decision was so easy to make, so easy to do. Things don’t make sense like that.

  I leapt up and punched the wall with my bloody hand again. Over and over until it was just a mass of pain and shredded nerves I couldn’t feel anymore.

  I saw the students clearly in my mind. The bodies in the street, the copper smell of blood, the bodies in the dorm. I kicked the wall.

  Had they thought they were the safe ones and everyone outside was in danger? Were they planning what to do once Sykes was gone and they were free to go see their friends or family again? What had they been thinking when it all ended?

  They had all relied on me. Cody had relied on me. And if I hadn’t jabbered with Sykes, hadn’t wanted answers in the first place, had just attacked him and wrestled the detonator out of his hand…

  The tears felt hot and sticky against my face and clogged the mask so I had to take it off.

  I sat there for a long time. At some point the tears stopped falling and dried up. And still I sat. And as I sat I came to one simple truth that made everything else so very clear.

  I had selfishly put so many in danger by letting him go this long: Cody, Matt, Melanie, Liz. So many innocents had died because I hadn’t stopped him, because I believed he still had something to offer me. I was only deluding myself.

  Sykes had to die.

  And I had to kill him.

  It was an easy decision. There would be no holding back this time. Sykes, who had killed so many, was going to die. And only a superhuman could kill a superhuman.

  I’m not entirely sure how long I stayed there. The painful reminder that where I lived was gone came about eleven at night when I decided to leave the empty apartment. I wasn’t going back to the dorm. There was nothing left for me there. I was going to the hospital. I didn’t know if that’s where Cody was, but I had to check.

  Before I left I realized I had no change of clothes. My backpack and cell phone were in the gym. I took off the top half of my costume, leaving only my long pants, boots and undershirt on. I rummaged up a plastic sack in the alleyway and stuffed the top half in it. I’d look weird but anybody other than Police Chief Ryans would just think I was going through a Goth phase.

  Something was wrong with the city. Sure, I still passed late night clusters of people out, but they seemed subdued and nobody would meet my eyes. An unusual, smothering mist crept into the cracks between the buildings, obscuring the fading streetlights and blanketing the street to the hospital in a grimy haze.

  Something was off, though, more than the atmosphere. And then I realized what it was: no fewer than four helicopters had passed overhead, and while I stood there three military convoys had roared by. The closer I got to campus the more barricades, closed off roads and soldiers I saw.

  At one of the blocked off roads a soldier did a double take at my clothes and quickly switched routes to the hospital. />
  It was in chaos. Orderlies, nurses and doctors hustled back and forth over the gleaming linoleum lobby. The doors leading to the back were constantly moving, swinging back and forth as carts and trays were pushed through under the sound of phones ringing off the hook. I didn’t see any police.

  I approached a distressed looking lady behind the front desk, cradling two phones with files spread in front of her.

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  “What?” She snapped.

  “What room is Cody Richards in?”

  “Are you family? Can’t let anybody but family in.”

  “He’s my family.” She readjusted the phone on her ear and opened a dog-eared file.

  “I know they’re still coming in, ma’am, but we’re doing the best we can. I don’t know how he’s doing right now. All ambulances are out so I’ll have to ask you to be patient. 193,” she told me, then swore as two more phones started ringing.

  I found the room easily enough. I didn’t go in right away. The presence of death hung heavy in the hallway, and I didn’t know if any of it was coming from inside the room. Brief flashes of Cody’s trapped body almost made my knees buckle. I turned the handle.

  “Drake!”

  Melanie’s puffy red face, scared and now relieved, buried into my shoulder, her arms squeezing me like I would vanish if she let go.

  “Where did you go?” She asked after a beat, pulling away. She gasped. “What happened to your hands?”

  “I’m okay. Sorry to worry you guys.”

  Matt sat in a visitors’ chair at Cody’s bedside, face taunt and his hollow eyes fixated on the TV playing reports of the National Guard coming in to Queensbury. This was followed by videos of parents meeting their kids at school earlier today. Everybody was terrified, understandably. In a matter of a few TV frames Queensbury had turned into a war zone.

  I turned away.

  “Since we’re all here then I guess we’re all family,” I said. “How is he? Do his parents know?”

  “They should be here any minute.” Melanie didn’t meet my eyes. “Cody’s alive, Drake. That’s more than I can say for those other poor people. But Drake, he’s—don’t blame yourself—he’s—”

  I brushed past her and stood over Cody’s bed. The bed, the sheets, the bandages, everything was crisply pressed and white like he was some sort of invalid angel. Deep cuts covered his face, and his right arm…and right leg…

  “Where are they?”

  What I was seeing didn’t register. Where his right arm and leg should have been was now only a lump of shoulder and hip covered with bandages.

  I could only stand there while his chest rose and the heart monitor beeped rhythmically. I turned away. The relief of seeing him alive was gone. I wasn’t going to cry, but man, the guilt was going to crush me.

  “He’ll live, Drake,” Matt said robotically from the chair.

  “Yeah, he’ll live as half of what he once was. He’ll live knowing that who did this to him could have been stopped.”

  “No, Drake, this isn’t your fault—”

  “IT’S ALL MY FAULT!” I roared, making Matt jump. “I was the one who could have stopped Sykes but I thought that maybe he could help and he—and he—” I waved my hands helplessly.

  “Drake, please!” Melanie urged. “There are a million things you could have done differently. A million things we all could have. What’s done is done. Blame Sykes for this, not yourself. There was nothing you could do.”

  “That’s going to change,” I said. “I’m finding the last Project Midnight lab. That’s where I’ll find Sykes.”

  Melanie pushed me from the door. “If you think throwing yourself at him, hoping it will bring Cody back the way he was, you’re wrong. You can’t bring that back you—” she choked, glancing at Cody on the bed. “—you can’t make him better.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Yes you are,” Matt said. “Stop being an idiot and think.” He had his own laptop in front of him. “You need a plan. I concur that finding the last Project Midnight lab is the key to finding Sykes, but something must be different this time to ensure a victory rather than you getting your butt kicked again.”

  So sensitive, Matt. “If you have any brilliant ideas about where the lab is, I’m open for suggestions—”

  The TV went dead, casting everything into an eerie silence. Even the scrambling outside the hall lessened.

  Then Sykes face popped on screen. He stood in front of a black backdrop and wore a nice suit with his hair freshly combed as though about to attend a dinner rather than having just blown up half my school.

  “Greetings, Queensbury! Young and old, alive and dead, though I guess there are a few more dead now aren’t there?

  “I have taken time out of my precious schedule to tell you that it’s about time I retired. I know that’s hard to hear but please, no tears yet. I’ve had fun and I hope you have too, but before I go I wanted to express my thanks to a few members of the Queensbury Community.” He paused and picked up a sheet of paper off-screen. I realized my hands were clenched.

  “First, to the honorable Police Chief Ryans,” At this his face turned from the pseudo-joyful to slightly malicious. “for always being there for me. Here’s to you getting the best seat in town for tonight.”

  “And secondly, to Phantom. Oh, I know some people think he’s a menace, but the guy’s not so bad. In fact, he’s helped you people out more than you know. I mean, can you remember what it was like without him? I can’t. Though that could be because I was preoccupied in a certain institution. So, Phantom, how about you and I have one last little get together for old times sake? I’m sure by now you’ve figured out where I am. To everyone else, I hope you stay for the finale.”

  And the black screen returned.

  I immediately started putting on my Phantom costume.

  “What are you doing?” Matt demanded as I put the last glove on. “People will see you here.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “And Ryans,” Melanie said quietly. She stood close to Cody, arms at her side with a fiery look of determination on her face. “Sykes said something about Ryans. I think he may be planning to do something to him.”

  Matt didn’t stop looking at me. “You could die. For real this time.”

  “I could have almost always died, Matt,” I said, but it wasn’t all of me talking. That was the angry part of me talking, while the terrified part stayed quiet. “This isn’t going to be any different.”

  “Go find Ryans,” Melanie said. “We can tell the National Guard what we know about Sykes and the Project Midnight lab.”

  “You know that won’t work—”

  “Shut up, Drake,” Melanie said. “You can help Ryans, but stopping Sykes? Look what happened the last two times you faced him. You failed both times! You can’t stop him by yourself.” That made me pause. I glanced at Cody.

  “And I will regret those failures for a long time.” Melanie suddenly realized what she said.

  “No—I’m—I didn’t mean that, Drake!”

  I finished with the costume but didn’t say anything.

  Melanie had her face down, her hand pressed against her forehead. I gently took her hand and squeezed it.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right, I can’t do this alone. I need you behind me, and Matt. I need your belief that I can do this. I’ve always needed that.” She finally looked up. “Can you give that to me?” I asked.

  “Remember back at the Lab when this all started, when I said that if you get in too deep I’m out?”

  I dropped her hand.

  “Yes,” I said. “I don’t blame you if you stand by that.”

  “No,” she said. “No, I’m not. I’m tired, Drake. I’m tired of the worrying and the fear. I see what this does to you and to—to Cody. What it did to him. We are in too deep. But what I realize now is we’re in so deep we can’t climb out. We’re all in this with you until this is over.”

  “Just know that this
isn’t what I had thought it would be,” I said. “Not at all. I know how stupid that sounds now, looking at what I did but it’s the truth. Maybe some good can still come from it.”

  “Some good already has,” Melanie said. “Just make sure you come back to see it.”

  Matt, ever the sentimental one, said, “You’d better get going.” I put my hood up and went to the window.

  I had one foot outside when the door opened and a nurse walked in.

  “Okay, Mr. Richards needs his second round of—” She saw me and dropped the tray with a loud clatter.

  “You’re—you’re—Phan—Phan—”

  “You’re getting close,” I said, then jumped into the dark.

  I drove silently down the vacant streets, streaming past parked cars and avoiding any signs of the National Guard who had now invaded Queensbury.

  Queensbury’s life had been sucked up as though holding an enormous breath. By now the bars and nightclubs were closed. Gone were the nearly constant sounds of honking and the dull thrum and buzz of a thriving city.

  Ryans lived in a subdivision just outside the pillars of skyscrapers. I steered beneath the rows of sycamores lining either side of white washed, perfectly aligned fences and straight back brick houses. Even my quiet motorcycle sounded unusually loud. Ryans house was at the end. An unmarked van sat in front.

  I pulled my bike behind some bushes and crept to the front door. It had been kicked in. I heard raised voices inside followed by a faint scream.

  I went in, sweeping left and right for anybody. I stepped across an overturned umbrella stand and found thick, muddy boot prints stomping past the staircase and into the living room. I glanced through the doorway.

  Four men with their backs to me stood in a semi circle around Ryans. Ryans held his wife and son behind him, his face grim.

  “Last chance,” the one near the window said, leveling his pistol. “Just you, Ryans. Leave your wife and your boy and come with us. I’ll shoot you in the leg and drag you if I have to.”

  The woman was crying silently. The little boy was eerily stoic, staring back intensely at the man with the pistol pointed at his father.