“How come they haven’t figured you out yet?” I prodded. “If you’re pretending to be Bowles, wouldn’t they have suspected something if you keep running out every fifteen minutes?”
Hey, how about sketching something on the rooftop of some abandoned warehouse somewhere? I demanded. I mean, if you’re interested in shadows and light and all that, wouldn’t it make sense to work in a place that, you know, actually has light? Just sayin’.
I grinned in spite of myself. “Hey, I rock.”
Freddie rolled his eyes again. “You don’t know this, Eric, but you’re the only one who lives in this dump. The Trill and his men? They go somewhere else. Sure, the bastard has tea and his meals here, and he acts like there’s an actual household staff that takes care of day-to-day things, but that’s to throw you off. The big gorillas who’re planted up and down the tunnels to keep you from running away are just that: plants. Once their shifts are up, they get out, and another group shows up for their turn.”
“I don’t get it. Why can’t they just lock my door from the outside and spare themselves the grief?”
“I’m sure they want you to be a little freer than that—you know, so you can walk around and see how they fixed this place up and then think you’re in the real hideout. Did you really think they’d trust you even after you were, uh, converted to their side?” Freddie snorted.
“But the plants won’t let me out of my room when the Trill’s not around.”
“From what I heard, it’s because they caught you snooping around about a hundred times.”
I coughed. “Yeah, well—I wanted to find the Trill’s labs and, you know, play the superhero.”
“Man.” Freddie shook his head. “No one can accuse you of lack of ambition. Then again, think about it. Getting your ass hauled back to your bedroom worked, didn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“It made you think this place is the Trill’s real hideout, given all the trouble they went through—you know, to keep you from finding out there aren’t any labs anywhere in this slimy hole.”
The world spun around me. “What—why hadn’t I noticed anything before?”
“Dude, you’re locked away in your room or the library 80% of the time. When you come out, it’s because you’re told it’s time for tea or lunch or whatever.”
“Then—then I can just bust my way out of here!” I looked at him hopefully. “I mean, since the Trill doesn’t live here, and it’s just me and a few of his goons stuck here for the rest of the day…” My mind suddenly filled itself with visions of me blasting my way out of my prison, mowing thugs down with energy waves. My breath caught in my throat.
“Er—not exactly.” Freddie leaned forward and dropped his voice some more. “Listen, I’m not kidding when I say that your powers are growing more and more unstable. You’re in danger because of that. The less you use it, the more time you buy for yourself. Don’t think of busting your way out of here without anyone’s help. The Sentries and I are working on getting together with Magnifiman and his buddies, but it’s been slow-going because of my powers and how far I still am from mastering them. Man, once I get out of here and return to the Sentries’ hideaway, I’m so screwed up that I spend more time sleeping than working!”
He leaned back again, and a soft glow of light began to pulse around his belly area. I panicked.
“Wh-what am I gonna do now?”
He watched me as the light slowly intensified, and his figure vanished under its soft glow. “Just wait,” he replied, suddenly invisible. “Do what you’ve always done when the Trill’s around. Don’t worry. You’re not alone. Keep your eyes and ears open, and tell me everything that you learn when I see you next. Just make sure not to push the Trill with questions that’ll make him suspect something, okay?”
“When can I get out of here?”
“Soon. And as for the Sentries, you’ll know more about them soon, too. Actually, you know one of them already.”
The pulsing glow brightened for a few seconds. Then it softened and faded, and there was Dr. Dibbs again, leering behind his thick glasses. I tried to remind myself that under that creepy archeologist façade was this hunky black guy who wouldn’t go out with me in a million years unless I looked like Penelope Cruz.
“I do? Who?”
My tutor gathered my books and notes, his pouchy cheeks swinging with every movement. “Brenda Whitaker,” he said, smiling at me when I gave a start. “She wants me to tell you to hang in there.”
I frankly didn’t think my heart could sustain another shock, but it did. I didn’t even know whether to laugh or cry in relief and inexpressible joy. “I will,” I said instead. “I promise. Thanks. Tell her I’m okay—for the most part.”
Dr. Dibbs nodded and stood up with a grunt. “If you’re wondering what’s going on out there, let me just say that we think the Trill’s muscling his way into the top ranks of supervillains. What he’s been doing lately is to foil planned crime sprees made by the Shadow Puppet and the Deathtrap Debutantes. He wants to be top dog in the bad guy business, and he’s making sure they know.” He chuckled grimly as he walked over to the door. “He’s going to have his hands full, let me tell you. There’s a new villain in town, and he’s not about to take any shit from anyone.”
“Oh, great,” I muttered. “That means the Trill’s going to use my butt for the other guy’s target practice.”
Dr. Dibbs looked at me in silence. I blushed when I realized how wrong that statement sounded. “Sorry,” I continued, rubbing the back of my neck. “That didn’t come out right.”
“No sweat. I know what you mean. Just be careful, Eric. Hopefully we’ll be able to help you bust your way out of here before the Trill can use you for something—and he will since your powers are failing. You’re expendable now, and he won’t think twice about using you and then losing you.”
I swallowed, a sudden chill enveloping me at the thought. Freddie was right. Judging from what I’d seen the last time we were out, the Trill had moved on to use the Noxious Nocturne on his own men, and they seemed to bloom like ugly flowers while under the effects; whereas with me, I went all over the place. Obviously he’d improved on the program already without my knowing—very obviously in his secret labs, which were located only God knew where.
“Okay,” I said as I watched him turn the Vox Box off, pulling the device off the door and pocketing it. It didn’t even leave a mark anywhere. “I’ll be careful. You guys take care, too.”
Dr. Dibbs nodded as he opened the door and stepped out. “I hope to see improvement from you next time, Mr. Eric,” he said, raising his voice. “Today’s session leaves much to be desired.” He shut the door behind him before I could answer.
Chapter 12
Freddie’s sudden visit left me reeling. Of course, as fate would have it, while I had him with me, I could barely think of anything to ask. Once he left, I was saddled with all kinds of questions. It nearly killed me that I needed to hold them back until I saw him again.
Not only that—I had to pretend everything was as it was, where the Trill was concerned. I frankly didn’t have much confidence in my acting abilities, though my family and friends would have plenty to say about my tendencies toward drama.
Speaking of drama, I suppose I really had nothing to lose at that point.
Listen, I’m not kidding when I say that your powers are growing more and more unstable. You’re in danger because of that. The less you use it, the more time you buy for yourself. Don’t think of busting your way out of here without anyone’s help.
Great. That was just great. I sighed, ignoring the soreness on my back that flared to life every once in a while. Damn that Wade, I thought, grimacing as I waited for the feeling to go away. The Trill’s medical thugs did a pretty good job in applying whatever healing gunk they had to my injured back. It could’ve been something experimental, I didn’t know. Actually, I didn’t want to know! I just braced myself for the possibility of waking up one day wi
th tentacles sprouting from the injured area, given my shitty luck as of late.
So I was also in danger of literally being destroyed because of my deteriorating powers. Unless I didn’t use them.
How would an artificially-enhanced boy deal with that much epic grief? My first response—and, God, did I itch badly for it—was to say “fuck you” to the universe, kick my bedroom door down like a real action hero, and blast everything and everyone with one energy wave after another. Possibly laughing maniacally the whole time, in that crazy “going out in a blaze of glory” type of thing.
Of course, there was also the teeny-weenie risk of getting myself buried under a pile of rotting stone in a cave-in, given the danger levels of the abandoned subway tunnels, but, hey, one had to take the bad with the good, no?
Freddie’s promise held me back, though. I had to satisfy myself with a Secret Revenge Blast here and there while I made my way through the tunnels and in the direction of the quasi-drawing room or fake dining room when it was time for tea or a meal.
“Piece of crap!” I’d hiss as I turned corners, giving random objects or spots on the wall a small blast of energy. “I hate you! I hate you! Die, asshole!”
The walk from my bedroom to any given “room” in the Trill’s so-called hideout proved to be the most therapeutic I’d ever taken. By the time I’d reached the Trill’s side, ready for my meal or afternoon snack, I’d be relaxed and mellow. Behind me, there’d be a trail of faint smoke or crumbling plaster or a reshaped bucket all along the tunnels. When the Trill confronted me about the damage, because his stupid gorilla plants snitched on me, I’d give him my best emo kid sneer and bark, “I’m bored! What do you expect, with me hiding in some crummy underground lair like a mutant mole person thing?”
All right, the theatrics were partly true. My complexion was growing paler and paler by the day, which I never thought was possible when I still lived at home. If I emerged from my prison with a skin tone that was whiter than white, I could apply for a patent or something, so the whole world would know I was the first to come up with that shade. Then I could have my own Wikipedia page, and that’d rock.
My second response was to get online and make crazy good use of my allotted hour. I didn’t read the news, and I didn’t go to my usual RPG forums. Oh, no.
I left a cyber trail, clicking on link after link after link, moving through less popular sites that Althea and Peter knew were my favorites online. I clicked on every page on each site, moving back and forth repeatedly until my brain began to melt from all those bizarre light waves or x-rays or gamma rays or whatever the hell came out of computer screens and turned people’s brains into beef jerky.
“Althea, I’m here,” I kept whispering as page after page loaded in rapid succession, nearly freezing the computer a few times. “You can find me. I know you can. Please pick up my trail, and I swear I’ll stop teasing you about finding a boyfriend.” I paused and backpedaled. “On second thought, there’s this hot new superhero. His name’s Freddie, he’s straight, and I think you’ll make a cool couple.”
Oh, the possibilities that awaited me as my friend’s matchmaker…
Oh, the threats to my physical safety—especially to my boy bits—once Althea found out about my scheme…
Those oddball sites I constantly went to in my friends’ company had very light traffic. So I gave them all extra traffic—well, from me, anyway. Click, click, click, I went, for an hour straight until my head, eyes, shoulders, and wrist screamed from pain.
“Come on, girl. Come on. Find me,” I muttered. Click, click, click. Then poof! The hour was over, and the screen went black. I sighed and leaned back in my chair, drained in so many ways.
I kept a desperate hold onto hope and repeated it the following day. Freddie hadn’t returned, but I at least felt more confident now. Much more reassured. Knowing the truth freed me from so much baggage. I found my “innocent act” around the Trill easier and easier to pull off with each day, and the more I took note of our time together, the more I wanted to pound my stupid head against the stupid wall again and again.
So many things made sense now, and it took Freddie to burrow his way into my private sanctuary and spill everything for me to see clearly.
Whoa, did I just say that? Hello, Freud. Again.
I only saw the Trill during lunch, tea, and dinner. Breakfast was a solo event for me by and large. I either ate alone in the morning or just plain skipped the meal, not at all questioning the Trill’s whereabouts. Why should I? I didn’t know what was really going on. Then again, I suppose one could say I didn’t care—didn’t bother.
Freaked out and depressed, I took things as they were, a passive sidekick-agent type who waited for orders from the top dog because, well, that was our deal, wasn’t it? I’d do what he wanted me to do as long as he didn’t hurt my family. From what I could see, he kept his side of the bargain, and I made sure to keep mine, even though it ate right through me. The rest of my time, I spent wallowing in self-pity.
Now Freddie had planted all the necessary seeds in my head, I worked to piece things together, and little by little, the truth dawned. To say that I was pissed—at myself and at everything else—would be an understatement.
I needed to calm myself down, though, and think some more, turn this craziness to my advantage. The Trill was determined to make the rest of the supervillains bow down to him. He was using his own men as über-soldiers, almost, to see that happen. I’d been useful to him while I lasted. While my powers lasted. It wouldn’t be long before I’d be thrown out with the rest of the garbage, and his goons, under the effects of an improved Noxious Nocturne, would take over like a super army. The Puppet, the Debutantes, and whoever the new bad guy might be—they’d all be forced to side with him in an ever-growing legion of destruction, a mirror image of Magnifiman’s own group of good guys.
Then there were the Sentries.
Hope flared alive in my chest, and I held on as I navigated through different waters now. I figured I should draw up Plan B and this time, make sure that I followed through, no matter what the risks were. Yeah, yeah, I came up with that idea on my own. I’m not as stupid as other people might think.
* * * *
I leaned against the grimy brick wall, my arms crossed on my chest, my fingers drumming away while I yawned for the gazillionth time. I shrugged my shoulders and then turned my upper-body from left to right. Ah, yes. My back was feeling way, way better. Whatever the medical thugs used on me worked seriously great, and not only did I heal pretty fast, I also didn’t sprout extra appendages up and down my spine. Awesome.
It had been a few days since Freddie’s visit. Althea, apparently, had yet to pick up my trail of breadcrumbs online, and we were out on another “mission.”
“Yeah, sure.” I sniffed, rolling my eyes as I leaned back again, waiting. “Whatever.”
Oh, the confidence. The smugness.
I was waiting for the Trill’s goons, naturally. They were busy robbing a bank, naturally. I was supposed to back them up, el naturalismo. I was bored to tears, and that would be the freakin’ understatement of the decade. Boy, when the Trill got tired of a minion, he certainly had no qualms making the poor schmuck suffer the long, drawn-out, excruciating ordeal of—waiting. Maybe that was his way of killing off a protégé who was going bad before his expiration date: death by coma-induced aneurysm.
It was past regular business hours, and normal people were technically at home, enjoying dinner. Emphasis on “normal.” Good time to hit banks, I guess. Too bad I was stuck in the growing darkness in a dingy alley, standing next to an overstuffed dumpster and leaning against the grossest brick wall ever to be put up.
“Hey.”
“Shit!” I yelped. Instinct took over, and I immediately powered up and leaped from where I stood, landing on top of the dumpster—muscles tightly coiled, hands pulsing with energy that was ready to be discharged at will. I looked around, wide-eyed, but found nothing. I felt like a nuclear cat—or so
mething.
The alley was practically drowning in shadows, and that moment proved to me all the more just how unstable my powers had grown. My super vision had weakened. I couldn’t fully tell if my eyes had gone back to 20-20 vision, but they sure couldn’t pierce through the darkness the way they used to. The yellow and red that colored my world when I was in power mode had softened. Gray hues dulled the brightness and the details, so I was forced to blink several times or squint just to keep my vision sharp.
Silence met me.
“Freddie?” I whispered. “Is that you?”
“Who?”
I swallowed and nearly threw myself off the dumpster and at him—had I known where he was, that is—but I forced myself to stay calm. “Peter?”
“Yeah. Don’t talk too loud, though. Don’t give anything away.”
I shook my head. “I won’t. Where are you? I can’t see you anywhere.”
“I’m here.”
From somewhere to my right, I heard the soft scraping of metal as something moved against it. I turned and found nothing, but another quiet sound brought my gaze up, and I saw him. Peter leaned over the rail of a fire escape two stories above me. I strained my eyes and noticed that he’d brought a finger to his lips to quiet me, so I just nodded and gave him a vague gesture with a hand. He’d been taking advantage of my acute hearing all that time by whispering to me from a distance. No wonder I hadn’t known where he was; he sounded as though he were literally everywhere.
He glanced around and then jumped down, making me catch my breath as I watched him descend like an acrobat—all graceful and agile. In fact, I noticed how much more precise and sharp his movements were. He’d had some pretty good practice lately, I could tell. If we’d still been together, I’d have jumped his bones right then and there, but life sucked, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
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