We had nearly reached the door.
Then the reactors blew.
Painful bliss surrounded me. A thousand flaming snakes slithered across my skin. I couldn’t even scream.
But my eyes still worked, and I watched a fantastic light, growing brighter, illuminating the last of Project Midnight and decimating it.
Maybe my body was tossed from the wreckage. Maybe I survived. I’m not sure. I think I was dead.
Chapter Seventeen
Pride and Reconciliation
I was swimming in an inky black fog. No matter how fast I pushed my arms forward I never seemed to go anywhere. There was nothing below me, or beside me, or behind me. Nothing anywhere, really.
And then, faintly, like coming from the other side of a wall, I heard sound, mushy and muffled like it, too, had to wade through the foggy soup of my mind.
“I’m here with Queensbury University student, Matt Warner, one of the many heroes from the past couple of days as a result of the attacks on the school. Following the attacks, suspect Lucius Sykes went to a supposedly abandoned refinery and blew it up, endangering hundreds of lives in the immediate area. Fires raged after the explosion and Matt Warner used his incredible and portable machine to divert the flames away from nearby neighborhoods. Sykes remains have yet to be found.”
Matt, your machine saved so many people. How did you think to use it to avert this disaster?”
“Um…Because I’m not an idiot?”
“…I see. And I’ve heard you are a part of an elite science program who is given special privileges to build and experiment. How did you know your machine would work well enough to stop the blazes?”
“Because I built it.”
“That he did!” A boisterous voice sounding an awful lot like Mr. Warner said, followed by the sound of someone clapping someone else on the back. “My boy’s a genius! Can’t say it comes from me, but who knew science stuff could be so cool, am I right?”
“That guy is such a tool,” Cody said.
“Thank you, Matt,” the newswoman said loudly over Mr. Warner’s incessant babbling. “Matt is not the only hero here. Reports continue to stream in of extraordinary feats of heroism, like Queensbury’s own Phantom, mostly credited with stopping the escaped convict Lucius Sykes, who was believed killed in the explosion but who’s remains have yet to be found. Though initially Phantom’s actions were condemned and even feared, he has since grown into something of a homegrown hero. Phantom’s current whereabouts are unknown, but some fear he may be dead.”
The soft hospital sheets tingled as though flames still seared my skin. Which meant—
I opened my eyes.
—I wasn’t dead just yet.
It was morning, I think. I was in a sunlit hospital room. There was hardly any antiseptic stench, or maybe I was used to it. Shadows of people and voices passed in the hallway outside, shuffling past one another. But this was a calm bustle, nothing like the frantic rush of bodies there had been when Cody was here and the dead and injured had continued to pile up.
I flicked my eyes left and saw an explosion of color beside me. Three balloons with puppies on them, more cards than I thought I had friends and candy everywhere, overflowing the tiny table.
To the right, the news continued to play on a TV hanging from the ceiling. Cody, still dressed in a hospital gown, and Melanie, sat next to each other. Cody’s remaining hand was firmly clasped with hers and both were looking at the screen, which was now showing scenes of the destroyed oil refinery.
When they zoomed in, showing the charred remains of the lab and the bodies, Cody grimaced and Melanie put a hand silently to her mouth.
“It wasn’t that bad,” I lied.
Both jumped as though they had been electrocuted.
“Drake!” Melanie leapt up and pushed Cody over to me. I hadn’t noticed he was sitting in a wheelchair. The horrible moment in his hospital room came rushing back when I saw the wrapped stumps of what remained of his right limbs.
“You—”Cody said, holding back a grin. “—you are absolutely crazy, but you did it.”
“You’re really, really, really lucky, Drake,” Melanie said.
“So the lab?”
“Gone,” Cody said. “Matt’s machine is still holding the rest of the fires at bay but I think the worst is over.”
I almost relaxed when another though hit me. “Sykes!” At any moment I expected him to walk in the door or pop out of the closet. “Is he—”
“He’s gone,” Cody said. “They never found his body but there’s no way he could have survived. You barely did and you had the suit on.”
“And Liz? She’s not—”
“Safe,” Cody said. “She’s sleeping right now. She didn’t leave your side since you arrived. Melanie made her leave. She looked like she was about to collapse from exhaustion.”
I couldn’t help grinning wryly. That sounded like stubborn Liz all right.
Melanie was looking at me with a mixture of disbelief and admiration.
“What?” I said.
“I still can’t believe what you did,” She said. “From what I heard Sykes would have killed a lot more people if you hadn’t been there.”
“Reality check: I could barely keep up with him.” I had a brief flashback of the longing in Sykes’ eyes, the pain that looked as though it could only be relieved by death. “He practically killed himself.”
Cody shook his head. “Wow.”
“And I couldn’t have done it without any of you guys. I owe everything to you three.” I glanced back at the TV. “Even Matt’s ego.”
“We’ll call it his brain,” Cody said. Then added thoughtfully, “But mostly his ego.”
“At least he and his dad appear to be on better terms,” Melanie said. The TV was now replaying videos of me, as Phantom, driving across the city and scaling buildings. They were videos I hadn’t even known had been taken.
The sounds from the hall grew louder as the door opened and a nurse poked her head in. “Mr. Richards? It’s time for you to be back in bed for your afternoon dosage. Mr. Sinclair, glad to see you’re awake. I’ll alert the doctor.”
“Duty calls,” Cody said. There was no disguising the note of bitterness in his voice. He pecked Melanie on the cheek. As Melanie rolled him to the nurse I clasped his wheelchair as it passed. I tried to say I’m sorry, but I knew he didn’t want to hear that. We simply looked at each other, both remnants of Sykes’ violent history. Finally we bumped fists and then the nurse wheeled him out.
“How’s he doing?” I asked as soon as Melanie rejoined me.
“He’s great. He’s going to heal just fine—”
“That’s not what I mean. How is he really?” Her face faltered just a bit. I could tell she wanted to lie, for my sake, but truth won out.
“He’s coping really well for what happened.” A small smile tugged her lips. “He’s incredible like that. Always looking on the bright side. But…they said with people like this—with such incredible loss, and the shock—they put him on suicide watch—just in case, you know?”
I nodded. What else could I say?
“I don’t think I could ever—after what happened I just had to make it right. Maybe I kind of did that with Sykes. Maybe it served no purpose.”
“Drake, there are thousands of people in this city who owe you their lives. If you helped at least one person then I’m sure that’s enough. I know Cody would agree.”
We sat silently, agreeing, I think, until the doctor came in.
“Well, well, well, Mr. Sinclair, our miracle case.” He swept up a clipboard tacked to the side of my bed and flipped a few pages back and forth.
“I have to say, I don’t think we’ve ever had anybody survive an inferno and pull through like you did. You’re not even burned!”
“An inferno?” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Melanie make the most covert of nods.
He looked quizzically at me. “Of course. Your report says you were on a late night jog a
round that refinery that blew up. I’m amazed you’re still in one piece, to be honest.”
That had to be the flimsiest cover story ever, but I was going to stick to it.
“So, I’m all good?” I ventured. The doctor continued to flip through the pages, muttering things like ‘incredible’ and ‘amazing’. Things I already knew about myself, thanks.
“Is everything okay?” I asked again.
He finally looked up.
“What? Yes! More than okay, actually. You’ll be cleared to leave here in a couple of days, I expect.” He returned to the notes. “Marvelous. Your red blood cell count is extremely high, and your platelets, and your lung capacity, this is your physical, right?”
“I think so.”
“Not an Olympic athletes’? You are in incredible shape, Mr. Sinclair.” He gave me a light pat on the arm. “Keep up the good work.”
“That was weird,” I muttered as soon as the door closed again. But the cover story made me think of something else. “Melanie, how did I get here without anybody knowing I was Phantom?”
“You can thank me for that.”
I hadn’t heard Ryans come in. I moved, more out of reflex than anything, and my sore muscles seized up and I collapsed back into the bed. “Ouch.”
“At ease, Sinclair,” Ryans said. I saw one side of his mouth twitch up. That was probably his equivalent of a smile. “They told me you’ll be sore for a little while longer.” He finally stopped giving me an unnerving stare, glanced at Melanie and flicked his thumb towards the door.
“You. Out.”
Melanie hesitated for a second before she got up and left. Ryans pushed the door shut. He walked to my bedside, took a pack of candy, opened it, munched on it while staring at the TV above my head.
I risked a look and saw still shots of the torched lab followed by more clips of Phantom. Seriously? More videos of me? Did I have a stalker?
“Amazing what people can survive,” he said, crumpling up the wrapper. “A man manages to survive a catastrophic explosion with hardly a scratch on him. And yet the truth…that may be even more incredible.”
“Well that’s what happened. I was jogging near that refinery when it blew up. I don’t remember anything after that. Sorry.”
“You didn’t even know that’s what you were here for until a minute ago.” He paused again. “So…Phantom.”
Me and my fat, stupid, mouth. Of course only now, after the fact, did I see the downside of revealing my vigilante identity to the chief of police.
“Who’s that?” I managed weakly.
Ryans did not look the least bit amused. “I carried your body from the remains of that lab. Let’s not play games.”
I heaved a defeated sigh. “Look, I know you want to arrest me, so just get it over with. It wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve done to me.”
“What was the worst?”
I cocked an eyebrow. “You shot me, Ryans. After I saved you.”
“Yes. Yes, I did. I was protecting my family.”
“From me! A—”
“A know-nothing vigilante without any real training, wandering around with tech he shouldn’t have and with God knows what kind of mission.” Ryans went around the bed and turned off the TV but remained standing near the window, like he did when I was in his office, what seemed like a lifetime ago.
“August starts. A new school year, more trouble for me. The crime rate shows no sign of stopping and my force is spread thin enough already. And then Sykes escapes and on top of that I have a black-hooded hoodlum running around. He doesn’t have a clue—”
“Yes I did—”
“What he was doing.” Ryans paused. “And yet…incredibly…he was doing some good.”
I froze on the verge of smarting off again. Had I heard right? Had Ryans just said something nice about me?
“We started to gain a little ground and the tide turned. My city became safer. But there was still one enemy he knew nothing about. Project Midnight was far more dangerous than any drug dealer or back streets crook. He got lucky
“But despite his good deeds that wasn’t good enough for me. Sykes’ net of influence was wide and who knew how long it was until he got Phantom on his payroll. Phantom had to be stopped. I had no idea what sick agenda he might have had.” Pain suddenly covered his face. A mixture of regret and anguish. He turned away from me again.
“Too late did I see he could have helped me more, then maybe those kids—” he stopped. His stature hardened to that of stone pillar. The muscles in his face shook just the slightest bit but I don’t think he noticed. When he started talking again his tone was heavier. Each word seemed forced from him.
“And then he saved me, but even then I still didn’t trust him. What I had once done never left me. I didn’t know…” He sighed heavily. “I’m not trying to justify what I did, especially not to you. I was young, I was impressionable, but I’m sorry now, so very sorry.”
At this he finally looked at me. “And then I pulled up to the lab, and saw your limp body and the people around who babbled that you had saved them from Sykes and I at last knew you were not my enemy. You were not the same as that monster.”
He moved as though to put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, then apparently thought against it and instead placed something small and black on the bedside table.
“A gift, from a Dr. Ragan. I’m afraid the good doctor is nowhere to be found. He went into hiding after the lab exploded.”
I grabbed the flash drive to make sure it was real. Here it was, the names of others just like me, who had maybe struggled just like me, and who could have answers. “At least they’re gone now.”
“They’re not,” Ryans said.
“Excuse me?”
“Carlyle had one more lab. His biggest lab.” He stopped me before I could bombard him with questions. “And no I don’t know where it is or what they were doing at it. I wasn’t given that kind of information. Probably the same thing they were doing at all the other labs. All I know is that it exists. But with that,” he pointed to the flash drive, “maybe you’ll have a better chance of finding it, of ending this. I’m sure the others like you would feel the same.”
Ryans walked slowly to the door. His boots echoed loudly on the tile.
“So no, I’m not going to arrest you, Sinclair. You instead have my gratitude. I still have contacts that could be of use to someone with a mission like yours.” He chuckled darkly. “And besides, you’re too useful for me outside jail.”
That didn’t sound good. “How’s that?”
“Let’s just say you may be able to reach people we on the police force would have a hard time getting to legally.”
“I’m not your hit man!”
He opened the door. I almost caught him smile again.
“No, you’re not. But since you used our scanner I guess you kind of were all along.”
The door clicked shut.
Chapter Eighteen
Moving On
Naturally, I freaked my parents out. They still had no idea I was Phantom, but with all that had been going on with Sykes and the new revelation that there was some sort of shadow organization about, they were scared for me. The call they got from the hospital telling them I had survived another supposed bombing about did them in and I was told they were coming as fast as they could.
Melanie, Matt and even Cody met me outside when they wheeled me out the hospital doors.
“Come see us again soon,” the nurse said once I had gotten out of the wheelchair. I didn’t know if that was supposed to be a sick joke or not.
Matt had his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Where’s your dad?” I asked. Matt shrugged.
“He went back home once everything calmed down. I think he’s going to donate some money for the repairs to the school. And to the Lab.”
“Finally saw it your way after all.”
“I think everyone saw what his machine did,” Cody said.
“Our machine,” Matt said. “
I input your name in the final report, too.”
Cody shook his head. “Matt, even if you claim we worked on the same project, they’re still going to want the costume back, regardless.”
“Circumstances being what they are, I think they’ll extend the deadline a bit. That’ll give us more time to modify it into something else.”
I held the duffel bag with my costume in it a little closer. Despite all the pain I’d suffered in it, and the pain it represented, it was still a part of me. A part I didn’t know if I could give up.
“They’ve set up the students without a dorm off campus,” Melanie said. “Matt can show you, if you want.”
Cody wheeled around to face Matt and Melanie. “You guys go show Drake where he’s staying.”
“I’ll stay here with you,” Melanie said.
“Thanks, but you’ve been in the hospital almost as much as I have. My parents are going to be bringing me lunch soon anyway so I won’t be alone too long.”
“We weren’t worried about that,” Melanie said unconvincingly. Cody gently squeezed her hand.
“Go ahead.” He let go and signaled to one of the nurses who came and wheeled him back inside.
All of us stood there. A strange mixture of bittersweet victory came over me. Sykes and most of Project Midnight was gone but we had lost so much in the process.
“Let’s show Drake where he’s staying,” Matt said suddenly.
It was a Saturday so there weren’t many students out on campus, especially after all that had happened. I couldn’t imagine them trying to have finals now. That was about as likely as Ryans publically calling me a hero and sending me a thank you card covered in little hearts.
“Wait,” I said. We had stopped at an intersection between where my dorm had been and the gymnasium.
“Drake…” Melanie started, but I was already walking towards the gym. I couldn’t go back to my dorm. There was too much agony still there and I don’t think I would be able to face that for a while. We arrived at the front of the gym. I can’t, for the life of me, know what I was expecting. Most of the wreckage had been cleared away. A crew was there, removing parts of the road that had been blown apart. Thankfully, there wasn’t enough left from that day to bring back any explicit memories.
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