by Hayes, Drew
Vince settled down on top of a nearby rock, listening to the loud booms and occasional bouts of yelling from other spots on the mountain. Lander East was a strange place—that much had been clear from the first day of arrival—yet Vince found that he rather enjoyed his time here. While it lacked the bustle of Lander’s true campus, things here also felt less fractured. There were no tests looming, or classes to fight through, or DVA agents looking over his shoulder. All that mattered here was self-betterment. It was a place of pure, simple training. That made it somewhat peaceful, in its own way. True, if it weren’t for Lander’s competitive program and all the others pushing to make him better, Vince knew he never would have taken his power this far, but it was still nice to simplify for a bit, even if it would only last for another week or so.
Footsteps crunching through the snow drew his attention, and Vince looked up to find Michael making his way down from the main building. He said nothing as he approached, quietly trudging through the ice before settling down on a rock near Vince’s. Once seated, he reached into his jacket and produced a large thermos, along with a pair of thick plastic cups. He poured steaming brown liquid into one and passed it over to Vince before making another for himself. Vince took a careful sip, fearing the bitter bite of coffee, but was relieved to discover it was hot chocolate instead.
“Thanks,” Vince said. The cocoa was warm all the way down, making him realize how long he’d been out here trying to make the already near-frozen world even colder.
“No problem. You’ve been at it for a while today. Make sure to come in and warm up soon. The staff here are pretty good about letting you do things at your own pace, but there are safety issues to consider.” Michael didn’t seem to mind taking a swig of the sweeter drink, despite the preference for coffee he’d shown on the first day.
They sat in silence for a while, save for the sounds of slurping. Vince had nearly reached the bottom of his mug when something bubbled up inside. It was a question he’d begun nurturing on his first day of arrival, one that had only grown stronger each time he encountered Michael. For a reason he couldn’t put his finger on, this seemed like the right time to finally ask it, and he wasn’t sure another would ever come along. If the time away with Nick had reminded Vince of nothing else, it was that all of life and its interactions were finite. An opportunity passed by just might be an opportunity lost.
“Michael, why are you really still here?” Vince asked. “It’s plain to see you’ve gotten yourself under control. The man you are now is nothing like the guy who got kicked out of the HCP. I think you know that, too. Whatever Dean Blaine sent you here for, you seem like you found it. Maybe it’s not my business, and if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. You don’t owe me an answer; I just couldn’t stop myself from asking.”
“I’d say answers are the least I owe you, given the degree of crap I’m told I put our—your class through.” Michael took a long drink from his cup, wiping the excess chocolate from his lip with the back of his mitten. “Fear. A lot of other things, too. There are some practical hurdles I need to overcome that make things harder, but more than anything else I think it’s fear. This place has been a haven for me. The structure, the teachings, the general isolation, it’s helped turn me into a version of myself that, for the first time in my life, I genuinely like. But we both know the world isn’t like Lander East. I’m afraid that if I go back out there, even if I never get near the HCP, I’ll turn back into the old me.”
“I thought you didn’t remember much from Lander,” Vince said.
“I was an asshole long before I ever set foot on that campus,” Michael replied. His voice was curiously absent of shame or embarrassment, as though he’d accepted this truth so thoroughly that it no longer had the power to wound him. “And there are still memory bits and pieces from my non-HCP time, enough to know the kind of man I was before coming here. The kind of man I don’t want to be again.”
A loud explosion came from the other side of the mountain, momentarily interrupting them, and from their vantage point a far-off section of snow seemed to slide out of position. Laughter could be heard ringing out, so it was probably intentional; though with the sorts of powers being tossed around up here, it was hard to ever say for sure.
“Believe it or not, I know how you feel.” Vince finished off his cocoa, the liquid burning on its way down. When he dwelled on this memory, every bit of him felt raw, and even the barest of touches was painful. “I have anger issues. Not the same as yours, but issues all the same. I try so hard to be good and gentle, the kind of man my father taught me to be. And then something happens to someone I care about, and I just... lose myself. All the loss and the fury and the pain come bursting up, and in those moments all I can see is my enemy. All I can feel is the desire to stop them, no matter what. Last May, I almost killed someone. Not because I had to, in the heat of battle; I’d stopped him already. But he’d just killed one of my friends, and I wanted to make him pay for that. There was nothing in me screaming to stop; I’d have done it without batting an eye. The only thing that stayed my hand was someone I trusted talking me back from the edge. I’m scared too, Michael. I’m terrified of losing control like that, of turning into the very sort of bastard I’ve trained so hard to fight.”
“But you’re still training,” Michael pointed out.
Vince set the cup down on the rock and hefted himself up. “I am. Because learning to control myself and my actions is how I’m coping with that fear. Therapy, too. My power is strong. I don’t say that out of ego, but because I know it’s true. I need to be the kind of man who can use it well, who can live up to the term ‘Hero.’ And maybe the fear is a good thing. We know who we don’t want to be, so when we start taking steps in those directions, we can stop ourselves.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Michael collected the cups and put them over the thermos, which he tucked back into his pocket. “But all the same, I think I’ll keep going slowly. That’s the thing about the cold: it’s really just perfect stillness. Everything in the world slowing to a near stop. I spent a lot of my life running around and going too fast. Since I started acting like someone with cold powers, I’ve been a lot happier. Sooner or later I’ll move on—even glaciers shift—but not until I know what my next step should be.”
“That sounds like a good plan.” Vince watched as Michael re-zipped his jacket. Two years. In two years, the madman who’d beaten Alex half to death and tried to jump Vince multiple times had cooled to this surprisingly unassuming fellow. It was a good reminder that people could change. That was reassuring but also dangerous. Vince had looked down the path of fury too many times; a few missteps and he could change, too. He had to be in control. He had to be the sort of person who deserved to be called a Hero. And in that moment, for an amazingly crystal clear instant, he knew what the right thing to do was.
“Hey, Michael,” Vince called. Michael was already several steps away, but he turned around to face his former classmate. “I forgive you. For everything you did to me when we were in the HCP. I don’t know if that matters or not; I just wanted you to know.”
“It matters.” Michael stared at him for several long seconds of silence. “It matters a lot. Thank you, Vince.” He turned and continued his trek up to the main building, leaving Vince alone once more.
159.
It was easier this time. No other students around, no pretense to establish; all they each needed was some momentary solitude to slip away. For Alice and Mary, it was easy, as one lived in a heavily guarded mansion and the other knew her woods well enough to vanish from even the most talented observer. Nick had to jump through a few more hoops; however, he rather enjoyed the process. It felt good to do something again, aside from sitting in the casino and scheming. Moving, stretching his brain and his legs and tasting action, it helped him finally take his mind off the empty room at the end of the hallway.
No one knew where Mr. Transport had dropped them, and he didn’t offer the information. I
t was a cabin set in a forest that could have been in any wooded area across the nation. Perhaps they’d even stepped onto foreign soil where the DVA’s reach was weakened. There was no way to tell, no signs or trail guides using an identifiable language. Just a cabin, inside of which was a stalwart woman standing over three beds and a cooler of water. This time, thankfully, they had proper mattresses to lay down on—a vast improvement over the thin cots of their last adventure.
Little was said as they lined up and waited for Galina to use her stolen power. There was no point in any discussion; whatever they wanted to say could wait until they were in the far more secure space of their shared unconsciousness.
Mary’s hands were bound to her friends’, one to Nick and the other to Alice, and then all the prep work was done. A brief glance into a pair of familiar, stolen eyes, and she was knocked out. Seconds later, the others were as well. Galina took a seat in a nearby chair, keeping watch to make sure things were going smoothly. She couldn’t see what was happening in their minds, of course, but should something go wrong, she was here for security. It was the least she could do, given what Dean Blaine was paying for her services.
* * *
There was little delay between their arrival and Abridail’s appearance; Nick barely had time to get a smoothie from the juice bar of Alice’s mind. The dream-walker stepped into their existence easily; no one was trying to keep him out. They wanted this meeting, needed it. They were standing on the precipice of answers, and Abridail was the final step they needed to take. At least, that was the hope.
“You all seem well,” Abridail greeted.
“We’re as good as we can be with life going the way it has.” Alice’s eyes didn’t dart over to Nick, but that was only thanks to her constant Subtlety training. “And I don’t mean to be curt, but as you saw last time we are working with a finite amount of time. Let’s not waste too much of it on pleasantries.”
“I suppose I can’t blame you for that. What I showed you last time was bound to have raised some questions, and I can only imagine that you’re more than ready for answers. Although, before we begin, I do have one question of my own.” Abridail pointed a finger over at Nick, who was halfway through his green smoothie. “Why is he here?”
“And hello to you too, dickhead,” Nick replied.
“I don’t object; I assume what I tell you all will be shared with your friends. But last time Nick was brought in as a negotiator. Seeing as the terms of our arrangement are set, there’s no need for more dealing. I’m making sure his presence doesn’t signify the desire to change our arrangement.”
Alice hadn’t really considered that. The idea of doing something that involved extracting information in a covert setting just seemed to naturally pair with Nick. But Abridail was right; Alice was the only one who really had to be here. She was the emotional hook that was pulling the truth from the dream-walker. Even Mary’s presence wasn’t required, since she was only needed to bring Nick into the dream-world. Before she could voice any of that, however, Mary and Nick were at her side.
“Maybe you’ve seen Shelby’s memories enough times to become numb to them, but Alice hasn’t,” Mary declared. “That look into what she’d seen in the bathroom alone... I understand that to get our answers, we need to see the past as it was. But that doesn’t mean Nick or I want to make Alice go through that sort of experience by herself.”
“Also, I’ve got a serious issue with curiosity. Suffice it to say that if I were a feline, it might be a terminal condition.” Nick dropped the smoothie glass, which vanished midway to the ground, and gently took Alice’s hand in his own. “But yeah, the support stuff too.”
Abridail looked at them all, sweeping his head back and forth before reaffixing his gaze on Alice. “Perhaps that is for the best. While none of what I have to share this time will be as visually jarring, I can’t imagine you will walk away from this emotionally unscathed. You may look at your father—”
“Charles Adair,” Alice corrected. “I had a chat with Charles over Christmas. I gave him the chance to open up to me, to come even a little bit clean. I really wanted to believe that he’d kept so many secrets out of necessity at first, and then habit. That pushing him, showing him I was willing to listen and be there no matter what, would be enough for him to let me in. Last time, I saw what he was like when all this started. I wanted to know if anything of the man who was once so happy and loving is left inside. But that man is gone. Gone, or buried too deep to be brought back. I readied myself for this, Abridail. I made my peace with it. Whatever you have to show and say, I’m going to be able to hear.”
“For your sake, Alice, I truly hope so. Shelby never wanted you to hate him, though.” Abridail looked worried, and Alice spoke up before he could have any second thoughts.
“My mother knew who he was a long time ago. If she was around right now, to see what he’s become, I doubt she’d have the same opinion. But you don’t need to worry. I don’t hate Charles Adair. I’ve just given myself permission to stop loving him.”
The sadness and uncertainty in Abridail’s eyes lingered, but he still nodded. “In many ways, that might be worse. However, you have not yet seen the rest of the story. By the end, you may very well hate Charles Adair for what he did. As I told you when we started this, though—try to remember that it all began from a place of love.”
Abridail lowered his head, raised his arms, and around them the world began to change.
160.
“Chuck, you need to eat something.” Globe—no, Phil Adair, as he was out of costume, stood in the kitchen. It was the small house where Abridail had first shown them Shelby sobbing on the floor. Bad a time as that had been, somehow this iteration was worse. Loss hung in the air, palpable at every turn and corner, most blatant of all on the face of Charles Adair, sitting motionless as his brother set a bowl of soup down in front of him.
“I know it seems hopeless right now. Things went badly, yes. But Shelby isn’t dead yet. She’s a tough one, and she knows her family is pulling for her. She’s going to make it through this, and one day, she’ll get better. You’ll find a way.” Phil leaned down and gave his brother a brief but fierce hug. “We’ll find a way.”
“He really does sound a lot like Vince.” Mary seemed surprised by the sound of her own words as the trio and Abridail stood off to the side, watching the scene before them unfold. “Not his physical voice, just the tone and way he speaks. It’s so weird to hear that kind of optimism coming out of someone else’s mouth.”
“I imagine the people who knew Globe first have the same reaction when they meet Vince,” Nick said.
No one needed to ask where they were; they all had the necessary intelligence to put it together. When their last dream-journey ended, they’d watched as Charles was backed further and further into a corner: try and change the nature of his wife’s abilities to save her, or allow Shelby’s endless visions of Alice’s death to continue haunting her. In the end, they all knew what he’d chosen, and in their hearts none were sure that they wouldn’t have done the same. What they were seeing now was the fallout, a man who had broken the mind of the woman he loved and perhaps destroyed himself in the process.
Charles made no motion to eat; he simply sat in place, staring down at the table. Even from this distance, Alice could see his red eyes. Whether the culprit was sobbing or lack of sleep was hard to determine; both were likely suspects and may very well have been working together. Regardless, it was a strange moment. Last time, she’d found it odd to see her father so happy, but this was even more off the mark. Charles looked broken, powerless, a distant shadow of the unflappable businessman he’d been for all her life. Part of her wanted to pity him; however, she steeled her heart against such sentiment. Whatever he had been once, she knew the man he became. And there was no point in wasting such feelings on the current Charles Adair.
“Look, I know things are dark right now.” Phil pulled out a chair and took a seat next to Charles, staying close while stil
l giving the man his space. “I won’t insult you with lies to the contrary. This moment in life is a bad one. But there will be others that follow, ones that are brighter, better, and worth seeing. We’ve lived through the darkness before, Chuck. You might have been too young to remember, but before Dad died, things were rough. It seemed like we were trapped, with no way out in sight, until one day everything changed. One toxic batch of whiskey, one lucky break altered our whole world. Sometimes, that’s all it takes. A single shift, a bit of chance, to make the clouds break away.”
Phil paused, clearly waiting for some reaction.
“Why are we watching this?” Alice asked. “I’d assumed Charles would be depressed after the experiment failed. If you want me to feel bad for him, it’s a waste of effort.”
Abridail shook his head. “This is a large story, with many players. If you want understanding, then you need to know all of the key moments, not just the ones that involve Shelby directly. I’m showing you this because it is another point where history was changed. So listen well.”
“Chuck, what do you need me to tell you?” Phil had started talking once more, realizing that the first attempt hadn’t gotten through. “That there’s hope? There is, I promise you. Right now Blake is meeting with half a dozen tech-based Supers with a firm understanding of biology, as well as a few human specialists. Clarissa is hopping all over the world, speaking discreetly to people studying the same field, scouring the Earth to see if someone else has pertinent information. Joshua has even consented to have his brain scanned and tissue samples taken in hopes of providing some aid.”
“Joshua?” It was the first word Charles had spoken, and Alice noticed Mary tense up at the sound of the voice. Phil, on the other hand, was visibly elated to have drawn out some reaction.
“Yeah, Joshua. His power is complete bodily control, you know. If they can find out a way to synthesize even a hundredth of what he can do, it might play a role in helping Powereds get control, even ones as far gone as Shelby. Yes, it’s a long shot, as are the other things, but we’re Heroes, Chuck. We’ve seen longer shots than any of these hit their mark. And if they all fail, then we’ll try new ones. Nobody is giving up on her, or you. We won’t stop until we find a way to fix Shelby. Heroes do the impossible every day; this is just one more hurdle that we’re going to overcome.”
