Heroes 'Til Curfew

by Susan Bischoff

  “Just…shut the fuck up,” Marco spat as we all waited, as I shook uncontrollably, crying, knowing I had played my very last card and there was nothing left for me to do but survive it.

  “Oh my God, really?” Jeff blurted out on a laugh, a fine mist of his spit landing on my skin. “You can’t get it up? Now?”

  The pressure on Jeff’s side was suddenly gone. I didn’t hesitate. I whipped the bag off my head. Fresh air and light so bright it seared my eyes. My fist slammed into Nathan’s jaw, throwing him back away from me.

  With my upper body free and the floor to plant my feet, leverage was on my side again. I bolted up from the waist, bringing my hands in, Talent-loaded, to slam against Marco’s ears. In the moment he was dazed by it I yanked my legs through his, trying not to see our nudity, trying not to let it matter. My jeans were around my ankles, keeping me from kicking effectively so I just keep pulling away until I could scramble off the floor. He was dragging himself up too, but now that I could see my mind reached out for the fax machine and whipped it at his head.

  Assess.

  The tunnel vision broke. Nathan was struggling up. I got my jeans back up and kicked him in the face, throwing him into the wall, denting the sheetrock. Jeff was lying on the ground next to where they’d held me down. His eyes were open and dark. He was still.

  Marco lay near the doorway. I was shaking all over as I righted my clothes. It was hard to make myself get close to him to leave the room, but I followed the sounds of fighting out into the store room and gave up on trying to buckle my belt with fingers that wouldn’t work for me.

  Dylan and Corey were fighting savagely. Dylan phased out, but I could still see they were locked together. Dylan slammed Corey into the metal shelving, but Corey phased out and sank into it, the momentum causing Dylan to slam against the metal support and rematerialize. He staggered back, phased out again.

  I floated a metal ammo can, heavy with shells, up out of the mess. I had every intention of hurling it at Corey as soon as I could figure out where Dylan was to be sure it wouldn’t hit him on the way.

  Corey stumbled back, pushed. He tripped over a box and went down. He was jerked by the shirt by invisible fists and slammed down on the concrete again. His head bounced and he was still.

  Time seemed to stop when Dylan phased back and got to his feet. His eyes met mine like a blow that pushed all the air from my lungs. The ammo can fell from my mind, hit the cement floor. I almost did too. Suddenly I was weak, faint.

  Shake it off! a voice snapped in my head. There’s no time. You have to get home.

  And I didn’t want there to be time. If Dylan wrapped his arms around me right now, if I felt him shaking against me, it was just going to be more real. And I couldn’t let it be. I had to stuff it down and pack it away and not think about it ever, ever again.

  “There’s no time,” I told him, grabbing at his sleeve as I bolted past. “I have to get home.” I threw myself at the door. “It’s stuck. Corey probably jammed it from the outside and then came through it to shut us in.”

  “All right, help me out.” Dylan threw his shoulder at it and I put my Talent behind him. He was watching me intensely through his swollen, red-rimmed eyes, studying, trying to figure out the right way to deal with me. The door gave on the third try, exploding out into the world, letting in a rush of cold air as it banged off the side of the building.

  Outside it was really dark. All the new security lights along the service road had been broken. A groan came from the office. Dylan turned from the door, his expression changing to something terrible, something that chilled me. I grabbed his arm. “I need to finish that,” he said low, almost without expression.

  It made me panic. Maybe because what I saw in his eyes reminded me of what I’d seen in Dad’s, and I thought that if I let Dylan go back in there, somehow I would lose him, too. It didn’t make sense, but I didn’t have time to work it out, I just pulled at his arm and begged him, “Just let’s go. Dylan, please, just get me out of here.”

  He turned back to me and I saw the struggle on his face, the effort. “Let’s go, get down the alley.”

  I slammed the door and used my Talent to break the lock and stick it shut. It wouldn’t hold Marco for long if he was coming to. Halfway down the service road I realized I’d made a huge tactical error by choosing retreat instead of making sure my opponent was completely incapacitated. But I couldn’t punish myself for that now. I had to keep running. I had to get home.

  We were almost to the end of the service road when we heard the door blown off its hinges. It was too soon and we both knew it. We skidded to a stop behind Sweet Blondies.

  Dylan grabbed me by the shoulders. “We’re not going to get all the way to your house on foot. Even if we can keep ahead of them, the muscles in his legs don’t tire easily. You need to go, take care of your family. I’ll hold them off here.”

  “How?”

  I’ll get them to follow me up onto the roof. You cut down the alley and double back. They’ll follow me and they won’t realize you’re not there until you’ve put some more space between you. Just try to stay out of sight in case they split up, too.”

  “Okay, that makes sense, except that I should stay and you should go on. You can go invisible. You’ll have a better shot at making it all the way to my house.”

  He gave my shoulders a shake. “Marco just killed Jeff. Broke his neck like it didn’t mean anything. And after— If you think I’m going to leave you here to face them again, you’re out of your fucking mind.” He shook his head, like he regretted cursing at me. “I need you to get out of here. To be safe.”

  “Do you think I can just leave you here?”

  “Your family needs you to get home. I need you to go. Please.”

  “Dylan…”

  We could hear running footsteps pounding up the dark alley, Marco and Corey shouting and threatening.

  “They’re coming. It’s the only plan. I can do this. God, Marshall, let me. For once you’re just going to have to believe in me.”

  Is that what he really thought? I touched his face. “Everything I believe is in you.”

  He flinched like I’d struck him, and then he kissed me, hard and fast, shoved me away. “I love you. Go!”

  I raced down the alley and doubled back. From the other side of the vacant building I could hear Marco, Corey, and Nathan approaching. Dylan called out, “Yeah, I’m on my way up,” as though he were talking to me, and then the sound of his boots on the fire escape echoed down the service road. I made my way quickly and silently to the next alley and peered around. I couldn’t really see anything in the gloom but I could hear more than one pair of shoes on the fire escape. When the racket stopped, I sprinted to the fire escape of the vacant building next to the Sweet Blondies.

  I jumped for the end of the ladder and missed. I tried again. I didn’t have near the reach that Dylan did. I had to use my Talent to float a dumpster around the corner so I could climb on top of it. Meanwhile, angry voices drifted down at me.

  Dylan’s plan to split up made tactical sense. I had to make myself admit that. Us fighting together didn’t always work—we worried about each other too much, lost focus. See also: Vinyl Salvation. I knew that I could lend him my Talent from a distance, as long as I could see him. As much as I hated having him be the one to take the hits, I had to think it through and realize that he had rage on his side, and was in better fighting shape than I was at this point.

  The vacant building was a twin to Sweet Blondies next door, having a flat roof with a low wall around it. Except that where the ice cream shop on the corner was lit up by the lights along First Avenue, it was all shadow where I was. I scurried across the space to the other side, trying to keep low and crouched down behind the wall.

  Shadow suited me just fine right now as I wrapped my arms around my knees and tried to not to shake. I needed to pull myself together to help Dylan. Concentrate on that and push this other crap down. But I couldn’t stop the reactio
n.

  Marco and Corey stalked Dylan across the roof. He was walking backward, slowly. It seemed like maybe they were carrying on a conversation. I could only imagine the taunts Marco had for him right now.

  Put it away.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to find my focus. When I opened them again, all I could find were Marco and Corey. They were close together, lashing out at a Dylan I couldn’t see. And if I couldn’t see him, I couldn’t help him. He knew that.

  But he doesn’t know you’re here.

  I lashed out and wrapped my Talent around an old antenna, yanked it free of the roof, and hurled it at Marco and Corey’s backs. Corey whirled around to look for his attacker, but maybe Marco suspected it. He used the diversion and kicked out hard.

  Dylan rematerialized at the base of the low wall. He’d come so close to going right over it. He got up, weaving slightly on his feet as Corey charged and grappled with him.

  And then part of the wall just vanished.

  Dylan?

  I clamped my hand over my mouth to cover a scream. Corey went over the edge. Marco grabbed his arm to yank him back up. Dylan, who had gone invisible when Corey grabbed him, phased back in right behind Marco and shoved hard. He was trying to put Marco over the edge too, but he needed my help for that and I’d been so concerned thinking he might have gone over with Corey that I didn’t see it in time. Marco lashed out at Dylan with his free arm, making contact and sending Dylan skidding across the roof.

  Dylan dragged himself up and faded out as Marco and Corey advanced on him again. He was exhausted. I could see Nathan, wall disintegrating Nathan, watching from the fire escape, unwilling to come over the wall and join the fight, but still willing to help try to kill Dylan. I lashed out at the fire escape and yanked hard, ripping the bolts that tied it to the bricks. Nathan cried out and grabbed for the wall.

  Marco gave up trying to figure out where Dylan was for a minute to pull Nathan up onto the roof. I ducked as he looked my way again. He knew I was here and when he was done with Dylan, he was coming for me again.

  Except that wasn’t going to happen.

  Marco had made me feel helpless. But I wasn’t, and I didn’t have to just sit here and watch. I reached toward the roof. What I wanted to do was different than the way I was used to using my Talent. I didn’t know if I could, but I thought about what my dad had said about the fire, about Vinyl Salvation. I thought about how the floor had trembled under my hands, and how I had felt in that moment.

  I stared at the roof until I wasn’t seeing it with my eyes anymore, but just with my mind, seeing more of it than my eyes could, seeing the roof and its structure, the joists and pipes underneath. Seeing flashes of Marco’s sneering face, hearing his voice in my head, threatening me, Dylan, Jill, Dad, Kat. I felt his grip on me, felt his hands like he had any right to touch me.

  There was a vibration in my mind. The shaking I hadn’t been able to stop shifted into something else. Something strong and angry. Something that had purpose.

  My fingers dug into the brick of the wall I knelt behind. Something groaned, timbers snapped, and across the alley the roof of Sweet Blondies began to ripple. I couldn’t see it yet, but I knew. I felt it somehow, felt a little peak rise, cracking and spitting asphalt as it moved across the roof toward the fighting, spitting debris.

  The boys were yelling, backing up, running toward the other side as the wave of destruction approached them. Dylan rematerialized and jumped onto the wall. I pushed harder at the wave, trying not to be distracted by how precarious his situation was, how the wall could give, how Nathan could dissolve it.

  Dylan threw out his arms for balance and my concentration snapped. The wave stopped. He was looking in my direction and it was like we both knew what came next without so much as a signal. He turned his back on me and jumped.

  His feet hit my cushion of air, punched through. He went down on his knees, caught himself on his hands. Then he stood up and my heart started beating again.

  I heard one of the boys yell, “Marco, what are you—?”

  Marco was standing on the wall, looking down at Dylan. Dylan didn’t waste any time, but took off past the building, onto the next street, out of sight. Leaving me.

  Marco leapt off the building and landed on his feet with a force that cracked the service road and sent asphalt flying back at the building. Above him, Corey and Nathan were leaning over the wall. Marco rubbed at his knees, straightened slowly, and turned to look up at where I was hiding. Pain was tearing through my head, but I reached out for the dumpster. It moved slightly as I took hold of it, preparing to lift.

  That got Marco’s attention. He gave me a single sneer and took off after Dylan.

  Dylan had run to lead Marco away from me. So that I could follow our original plan and get Trina away from my mom and sister. But Dylan was exhausted and Marco wasn’t. I needed to follow them, protect Dylan, but I had no idea where he would go. I had to think.

  “Bella said to tell you—”

  I whirled to the sound of the voice to find Curtis kneeling beside me. He grabbed my wrist and when I tried to yank my arm back, I found that I didn’t have the strength to pull away.

  “—that you should have left Marco alone.”

  I tried to say something to him, but blackness clouded my vision and I couldn’t hang on to the thought.

  And then I finally slept.

  Chapter 17

  Dylan

  Where’s Joss?

  That was the first thought I had when I came to, but I didn’t jump up and start looking or asking questions. I just lay on the floor and cracked my eyes open, took a look around.

  “He can be taught.” That’s what she’d say.

  But where was she?

  I was lying on my side in a corner on a concrete floor. Everything I had hurt. I tried to move discreetly, test out my stiffened limbs, but my wrists were stuck together behind me. It was pretty cold, but not quite as cold as outside, and the lighting wasn’t great. There were a bunch of lanterns sitting around, some battery-operated, some gas. Boxes and packaging material littered the floor. I had no doubt the lighting had come from the Army/Navy store.

  The only other person in the room that I could see was Nathan. He was sitting on a camp stool not too far from me, bouncing a hacky sack on his sneaker. And that scared the shit out of me. Where the hell were Marco and Corey?

  And Joss.

  Just as I was about to get up, tackle Nathan and stomp on him until he told me, I heard feet pounding up metal stairs and then Corey bounded into the room.

  “Everything go okay?”

  That was Marco’s voice. I shifted as quietly as I could until I could see the glowing tip of his cigarette in the shadows. He got up from where he was sitting and swaggered forward.

  “Yeah, boss. It’s all good. She stayed out the whole time just like Sleepy said she would.”

  From somewhere else in the gloom, someone grumbled something I couldn’t understand. Must have been that kid. The last thing I remembered was being caught by Marco. Corey held me while Marco beat on me a little. And for Marco, I mean a little. Not nearly his full power, but just enough to really hurt. Then this kid they called Curtis came running up and Marco told him to knock me out. Curtis reached up, grabbed me by the throat and told me go to sleep. And then everything went dark.

  “Good. At least someone around here can do their job.”

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  “I meant Curtis,” Marco sneered. “Trina got things under control? I’m letting her have her way because it’s what Tony would have wanted, but if she fucks it up, she’s gonna answer to me.”

  “Yeah, yeah, she’s got it. Made me haul Joss up to the second floor and we got her chained up tight. She’s not getting out of there.”

  “Where is she?” It was out of my mouth before I knew I was gonna say anything. So much for the element of surprise.

  “Well look who’s awake. Man, he said her name once and you’re al
l up and at ’em,” Marco laughed. “Are you tuned in or what?”

  “Yeah,” Nathan added, “‘what’s the frequency, Kenneth?’”

  “What the hell? Did the bitch give you brain damage?” Marco tossed down his cigarette and ground it out while he went for a new one.

  “It’s from a song. R.E.M.”

  “Actually, the lyrics come from an incident involving an assault on Dan Ra—”

  “Hey, Dick Clark,” Marco interrupted Curtis, “do I look like someone who gives a shit? Jesus.”

  “Where the hell is Joss?” I ground out.

  “You know, buddy, you don’t even need to worry about Joss anymore.” Marco strolled over to me. I braced, waiting for him to kick me, but he grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. He pushed me up against the wall, made a little show of brushing off my sleeves. “Because really, neither of you are going to be around much longer. So let’s just not talk about your skag and enjoy the time we have.”

  I kept my eyes on the floor and concentrated on trying to still the shaking. All I could see was Marco touching Joss. A sense of brutality welled up inside me. I didn’t know what kind of plan he had, and I almost didn’t care. I just wanted to take him down with me.

  I wanted to kill him.

  “Come here,” he said, jerking me away from the wall. “I want to show you something.” He was pulling me across the room and I just went with him. There didn’t seem to be any point in resisting. Corey shadowed us, like maybe he thought I was going to make a break for it. Or maybe he knew that Marco’s plan involved him holding me down again.

  Marco pushed me up against a metal railing but his quick grip on the back of my neck kept me from going over. Below us, walls of concrete that were stained with rust, and green with something that grows in the dank, reached down into darkness, nothing.

  “How deep you think that is?”

  I didn’t answer.

  He took a drag on his cigarette and then flicked it over the edge. But of course we couldn’t see it for long in the gloom. “I picked this place because of that tank. I’ve got no idea how deep it is, but we threw some trash down there and I know the bottom’s solid and it’s a long way down. So what I’ve been wondering is, when I throw you over this railing, how long are we gonna hear you scream before you hit the bottom?”