by H. L. Burke
Jake arched an eyebrow. “There’s no such thing as a soul—”
“Yeah, trust me, there is, and you need to learn to use it if you want to reach your full potential.” Fade motioned towards Jake’s extended hand. “Again, but take ownership of it. Bend it to your will.”
Jake let out a breath through pursed lips. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
Once more, he drew his powers out of his core and up into his arm. However, this time when they started to weaken he pushed harder, imagining them taking to his skin and muscles as they would during a normal dematerialization. His hand shimmered then loosened, becoming hazy about the edges.
Jake inhaled sharply and his powers snapped back like a cut bungee cord. “What the—” He pushed again. This time it came easier and soon his entire hand was dematerialized. He felt light and energized by the space between his individual atoms. He glanced from his hand to Fade and back again. “How? I mean, isn’t the whole point of a disruptor to stop this?”
Fade leaned against the chicken coop. “The disruptor’s energy seems to interact differently with different sorts of sable energy. Prism, for instance, is completely short circuited by it. Can’t so much as feel her powers when she’s in one. Me? Mine tend to be pretty resilient. It takes a while to master, but the disruptor energy needs physical contact to keep my powers down. When I’m in a disruptor, I can’t use my powers in the sections of my body that it’s actually touching, but with practice I figured that I could use them pretty much everywhere else.” He turned back to his work and hammered in another staple. “My guess, you could too, if you practiced.”
Jake swallowed. Well, that gave him something useful to work on. It might come in handy when he needed to escape—but why was Fade helping him like this?
“Aren’t you going to get in trouble with DOSA? Telling me how to get around their equipment and all?”
“I won’t tell them if you don’t,” Fade said. “We still have the tracking, too.” He paused and wiped his hand across his brow. “I’ve never met another matter manipulator before.”
“Matter manipulator?” Jake fiddled with his powers, trying to extend them further down his arm.
“That’s what DOSA calls my ability—dumb name for it, if you ask me, but I was the first they’d encountered who could do what I do—the only one up until they caught you and your brother. I mean, our powers aren’t exactly alike. I can’t do that whole ‘break into a cloud of sand’ thing you did when the Yuma team was chasing after you. Still, they’re similar enough.” He hammered in another staple. “It’s weird. Those things normally run in the family, and according to DOSA’s file, Vic Lucas is a water-manipulator, not a matter one.”
“Got it from my mom,” Jake answered.
“Ah, there wasn’t much in the file about her.”
“She’s dead,” Jake said simply.
“Sorry. I’ve been there.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Jake brushed his hand back through his hair. “I don’t remember her, and I don’t think about it much.”
“That’s what I used to say, too.”
Jake pulled his powers back into his core. What business did Fade have pretending to know anything about Jake? They weren’t the same. The simple fact that Fade was in DOSA at all proved that.
An awkward silence fell, broken only by Fade’s continual pounding on the staples. Finally he stepped back and gave an appreciative nod. “That’ll hold.”
Jake scoffed. The second layer of chicken wire lay over the first like a bandage, kept in place by staples and a few places where Fade had twisted the wire together. “It’s ugly, though. You can tell it’s been repaired.”
“Fixing something doesn’t always mean hiding the fact that the damage happened in the first place. I like seeing the scars on things. They let you know it was strong enough to survive and worth saving to someone.” Fade stuck the hammer in the tool box then pointed to it. “Since I did most of the work, you can do the clean up. Put this in the garage—on the workbench where we got it from—then come inside. I think there’s some leftovers in the fridge we can warm up for lunch.”
By the time Jake returned to the house, the smell of reheated chicken and potatoes already drifted from the kitchen. The night before Prism had made two versions of the same potato bake: a large pan that included chicken, potatoes, bell peppers, onions, and cheese, along with a lot of seasoning, and a smaller one that was the same thing except without the chicken for Laleh. Jake had devoured three helpings, and the memory of it made his mouth water.
For a while the two men ate in silence, Fade browsing on his phone, Jake concentrated on his plate. The food was certainly better here than it was with the gang. He was just scraping the last cheese off his plate with the last bite of potato when the sound of an approaching car motor made both himself and Fade look up.
Fade’s brow furrowed. “That’s weird. Wonder if someone got lost.” He stood and tucked his phone into his pocket before walking over to the window. His expression hardened, and he cursed under his breath.
“Stay here.”
Fade stomped out of the room and out of the house. Jake hurried to look out the window. A dark colored SUV pulled up in front of the cabin. Cold swept through Jake. That was a DOSA vehicle. Panic surged within him. An unannounced visit from DOSA couldn’t mean anything good.
Ignoring Fade’s orders, he dashed from the kitchen to the entryway and out onto the porch. Fade’s head whipped towards him. The older sable scowled, but before he could speak the front doors of the SUV opened and two men emerged. The driver proved to be an unknown DOSA agent in the stereotypical suit and sunglasses, but the man who emerged from the passenger side sent Jake’s panic into overdrive.
Silverhawk.
Chapter Sixteen
“What are you doing here?” Fade crossed his arms over his chest.
“Is that how you greet a fellow hero?” Silverhawk came to stand before Fade. The suited agent lingered behind him, his face expressionless.
“When that hero is you? Yeah, it is.” Fade glanced at Jake. “I told you to stay put.”
Jake stood a little straighter but held his ground.
“I’m here to talk to the kid.” Silverhawk motioned with his chin towards Jake.
Jake’s jaw clenched.
“Do you want to talk, Jake?” Fade asked.
“No,” Jake answered.
A slight smirk curled the corners of Fade’s lips. “Sorry you came all the way for nothing. You should’ve called first and saved yourself the trouble.”
“I’m not done yet.” Silverhawk’s mouth wrinkled in contempt. “That kid knows things about the Sand Foxes. Things that could help us crash their entire criminal empire, and you’ve got him out here playing Boy Scout. He needs to testify.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Fade said. “Prism specifically had it written into his deal with DOSA that testifying was not a requirement of his stay with us. He doesn’t have to talk to you if he doesn’t want to, and he just said he doesn’t want to.”
“Maybe that’s the case, but he’s making a mistake by holding out on us.” Silverhawk peered past Fade, his eyes penetrating Jake like daggers of ice. “I’ve seen your deal. You’re safe here until your eighteenth birthday. After that, DOSA has the right to reevaluate your case. If you can’t show that you’ve reformed—and you know you won’t. You’ve got villainy in your blood—then you go back into the system and can be tried as an adult.”
A chill cut through Jake, and he watched Fade’s reactions for any sign this was true. Fade didn’t balk.
Triumph lit Silverhawk’s face. “You didn’t know that, did you? I guess your keepers didn’t see fit to key you in on that little detail.”
“Because it’s only a technicality,” Fade said. “Also, his evaluation isn’t going to be up to idiots like you. It’ll be a joint effort between the committee and my wife—who I notice you avoided by showing up when she was scheduled to be in Bend. Afra
id of her, are you?”
Silverhawk inhaled a hissing breath. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”
“So yeah, you are.” Fade chuckled. “Well, I’m not my wife, but I’m also not afraid to tell you to go screw yourself. Get back in that car and leave. Now.”
“I don’t answer to you, Powell or Curran or whatever your name is,” Silverhawk snapped. “You’re a nobody, a former crook who married up and wasn’t even man enough to hold onto his own name.” He took a step closer. “Look, kid, you can save yourself a lot of trouble now if you agree to talk. I can get you out of here, set you up in a new life, move you anywhere you want to go, disappear you—heck, I don’t care if you go back into the business on your own afterwards, just so long as you help me take your gang down first—” He tried to step around Fade, but the taller man grabbed his arm and snatched him back.
“He said he doesn’t want to talk to you,” Fade snarled.
Silverhawk bared his teeth. “Let go of my arm, Powell, or I swear—”
“You swear what?” Fade shoved him backwards. “You have no power here.”
“Like I said, you’re a nobody, and you don’t scare me—”
Jake’s heartbeat quickened. Were they going to throw down? If Fade got into a fight with another DOSA sable, would they arrest him? If Fade got arrested, what would happen to Jake? Or the rest of the camp kids for that matter?
The two men stood, inches apart. Silverhawk’s nostrils flared as Fade studied him with a cold stare. Then out of nowhere, Fade laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Silverhawk frowned.
“I may be a nobody, but I’ve got all three committee members on speed dial.” Fade pulled his phone out of his back pocket and held it aloft. “Which of them would you rather get chewed out by, Ted? I’m a nice guy, so I’ll let you pick.” He clicked on his contacts. “Glint? Shepherd? How about Talon, you know, my wife’s godfather?”
Silverhawk narrowed his eyes at him.“You’re bluffing.”
“Oh, am I? Actually, let me call Glint, just to mix things up.” Fade hit a button and his phone started to ring.
Silverhawk glanced back at the agent behind him who shrugged.
After two rings, a booming male voice answered. “Hey, Fade, what’s up? Haven’t talked to you in forever.”
Silverhawk’s face went white.
“You remember that camp me and Prism set up?” Fade asked, keeping the phone in front of his mouth but with the speaker angled towards Silverhawk. Jake relaxed slightly and eased closer to Fade’s side.
“Oh, yeah, of course. Did you change your mind about me giving the kids a career day talk? I’m still up for it. Love mentoring our future generation, you know.”
“Yeah, you said that in your last interview. Hold on a second. There’s a pest buzzing around me.” Fade hit mute. “Point of no return. Either you get out of here right now, or I unmute this and tell Glint the real reason I called him.”
Silverhawk cursed. “This isn’t over.”
“Yeah, it is.” Fade nodded towards the SUV. “Scram.”
Silverhawk all but sprinted for his vehicle. With slightly more decorum, the agent followed.
Fade unmuted the call as the SUV’s engine started. “I hate to have you fly all the way out from DC for it, but Prism and I were talking about your offer, and it was pretty generous to turn down.”
Jake watched as the SUV did a u-turn before speeding back down the dirt road, dust kicking up behind it in great clouds.
“Would you be willing to record a short pep talk for them we could show over dinner? Nothing long. Five minutes would do,” Fade continued.
“Definitely! Love to! I actually have a script I was working on for a school opening I could pull some excerpts from—”
“Sounds great.”
The SUV disappeared behind the trees, and Jake let out a long breath.
“No rush on it,” Fade continued. “Just whenever you can.”
“I’ll have it to you by tomorrow morning,” Glint promised. “I’ve got to go now, though. Committee meeting in five minutes, and my coffee’s out.”
“That’s a true emergency. I’ll let you go. Thanks again.” Fade hung up his phone and motioned for Jake to get back in the house. They entered together and returned to the kitchen.
“You really have the committee members on speed dial?” Jake frowned.
“Yeah, not that I prefer to call them, but we’ve had to put out fires that involved their participation more than once.” Fade set his phone on the counter and started gathering up their dishes.
Jake glanced towards the window. A haze of dust still floated outside even though the SUV was gone. “Do you think Silverhawk will try again?”
“If he does, he’ll get the same answer.” Fade pulled off his sweatshirt revealing a black t-shirt that said “Not a people person” across the chest. “Coward obviously thought Prism being out today would make you an easy target. Now I just have to figure out what idiot in the Bend branch thought it was a good idea to tell him that you weren’t with the other kids today so I can kick whoever it was in the butt.”
Jake laughed, the action taking away the last of his built up tension.
Fade picked up a sponge then paused. “Why am I doing this? That’s what you’re for.”
He tossed the sponge at Jake who caught it between his hands. Jake debated arguing for a moment, but then thought better of it and walked to the sink.
As he did, Fade’s phone buzzed.
Jake’s stomach twisted. What if it was Silverhawk again? What if he’d gotten up his nerve for another attempt or called in his own political allies?
Ready for the worst, Jake watched as Fade pulled up his texts. A smile immediately crept across Fade’s face, and he laughed quietly before starting to tap out a response on the screen.
“What is it?” Jake frowned.
“Text from Prism.” Fade kept typing.
“What about?” Jake pushed.
“We’re having a boy,” Fade said simply.
“Congrats?” Jake took his plate from the sink.
“I would’ve been happy either way, but yeah. Lucia already wants to talk names. I’m not going to do that yet. Too early.” Fade set his phone on the table and looked at Jake. “You asked why I switched sides? I told you the truth about getting caught, reconsidering my life, and finding someone who helped me through it. I left out one important thing, though. I was a loner before DOSA. Had various villains I’d work with off and on, but there wasn’t a lot of trust there, so I never went all in on those partnerships.” He let out a breath. “I’d convinced myself that was how I liked it, but it was a defense mechanism, not an ideal. Having a family, though, that’s been a life changer. I’d drop DOSA in a heartbeat. The connections I’ve made through DOSA, those are my anchor. You could do with your own connections too. I’ve seen how Marco and Laleh are starting to look up to you. They need a leader, and you could be that. You just have to want it.”
“I have a family,” Jake said.
Fade grimaced. “For your sake, I hope I’m wrong, but I have a feeling Vic Lucas’s interest in you only goes as far as he can use you in whatever scheme he’s working on. That’s not family, Jake. Not really.”
“You don’t know anything about us.” The words came out more half-hearted than Jake intended. He didn’t really feel like fighting with Fade, not after Fade had stood up for him against Silverhawk. No one in the gang had ever done anything like that for him, but why did Jake care? Even if Fade hadn’t stopped the interrogation, Jake wouldn’t have said anything.
I wasn’t afraid they’d make me talk. I was afraid they’d make me leave.
The realization hit Jake like a strength sable’s fist. For a moment, he had really thought Silverhawk might take him away—and Jake didn’t want to go
But getting out of here is the whole point. I should want that. Not under Silverhawk’s terms, but in general.
“Like I said, I hope I�
��m wrong, but I’ve noticed he hasn’t tried to help you out much,” Fade continued. “Family looks out for each other, helps each other. That’s kind of the whole point.”
“I can take care of myself.” Jake stuck his chin a little higher. “I’m strong enough. All Sand Foxes have to be. People you depend on and who depend on you are liabilities. If you can’t carry your own weight, you don’t belong. My uncle taught me to be strong enough to carry myself and to cut loose the dead weight of people who can’t carry their own.”
Fade’s expression grew atypically solemn. “Caring about people isn’t a weakness, Jake. Being a man is about being able to carry more than your own weight. That’s true strength.”
Jake rolled his eyes. Of course Fade would say that. Dude had given up supervillainy to basically be a househusband. That wasn’t Jake. Jake was harder than that—but if so why did he want to stay here with Fade and Marco and the rest ...
Am I getting soft? I can’t get soft.
If he did it would be letting Caleb and Uncle Vic down.
He couldn’t do that.
This couldn’t be real. The whole back and forth between Fade and Silverhawk was fake. Some sort of good cop/bad cop routine. Jake wouldn’t fall for it—but what if it was real? What if someone wanted to look out for Jake, not for their own good, but for Jake’s good? What would that even be like?
Chapter Seventeen
“Oh come on!” Jake tossed his controller on the carpet as his video game avatar fell off the platform to his death.
Laleh simpered as the “Winner” title flashed on her side of the screen.
Jake glared at her. “You’re cheating, aren’t you? Using your powers?”
She stuck her nose in the air. “You’re just a sore loser.”
“That’s not a denial.”
Marco reached for Jake’s controller. “It’s my turn!”
“Have at it.” Jake tossed the younger boy the device. “She’ll beat you anyway.”
