by H. L. Burke
Jake swallowed. Laleh thought of him as a friend? Marco, sure. That kid could charm a troll, but Jake? Jake was the troll.
“Must’ve been a pretty awful school.”
“I mean, it was really competitive. Like no one really wanted to be friends with you unless you could get them something, and even then they’d step on you on their way up. We all knew we were special—children of superheroes, children of politicians, children of geniuses, or sometimes a mix of all three. You put a bunch of people who’ve always been told they’re the best of the best together and it can become a rat race as everyone tries to take charge and show up the others—”
“School of Princess Lalehs. I get it. Sounds like torture.” He smirked into his coffee cup.
Laleh’s chin dropped towards her chest.
“I’m kidding,” Jake said, forcing his tone to stay flippant. “I mean, you can be a little over the top, but I don’t mind you so much anymore.”
“Thanks. You’re not completely intolerable either.” She sniffed at him.
The room fell quiet again. Jake sipped his coffee, watching the clock out of the corner of his eye. Less than ten minutes now. What was he even going to say to Caleb? If he didn’t know where Jake was, then maybe he wouldn’t expect him to be able to escape. Jake could lie and say he was being held in some sort of high security facility ...
“Do you ever think about what happens after camp?” Laleh asked.
“Uh...”
“Oh, come on, even with your ‘lost cause’ BS, you have to think about your future sometimes.” Laleh rolled her eyes.
“I don’t, though. Not really.”
Well, he did have some assumptions. He’d somehow get back to his gang. He’d work under his uncle. Eventually he’d be in a place where he could lead missions. Laleh wouldn’t like that answer, though.
“Wouldn’t it be cool if we could keep working together? We could form our own team!” Her eyes lit up, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable—or at least more uncomfortable. “Prism told me she started her own team when she was only like twenty-three. I’ll be that in eight years!”
“I’m not working for you,” Jake said firmly.
“I didn’t mean that.” She crossed her arms. “I’m just saying if we had our own team we could control our own destinies. Do things that really mattered to us, not worrying about advancing our political viability or our family name or—”
“Yeah, those are big problems for both me and Marco,” Jake said dryly. “Everyone trying to get us to live up to our family names and political potential.”
“Never mind.” She huffed. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t understand.” She tossed the towel onto the dishrack and stomped out of the room.
Jake leaned up against the counter, inhaling the scent from his coffee. The knots in his stomach clenched around what little breakfast he’d managed to get down.
Messing with Laleh didn’t give him the satisfaction it used to, but even if he no longer wanted to frustrate her for the sake of entertainment, it was better for her to get any stupid ideas about him sticking around for a hero team up out of her head right now. Never gonna happen.
A tapping noise drew his attention to the entryway to the dining room. Prism stood there, gently rapping on the wall.
“Hey there!” She smiled. “You ready for your video call?”
He swallowed. Was it really time?
“Sure.” He set his coffee cup on the counter and followed her up the stairs.
When they reached the computer room, Jake half expected to find Marco waiting there, smiling and eager to tell Jake about his call with his mom. The younger boy was nowhere to be seen, though. Instead Prism led Jake to a computer desk that had been moved so the monitor and camera faced a blank wall—probably to give Caleb as few clues as possible about Jake’s location. She wheeled an office chair in front of it.
“You can use the headphones.” She motioned towards a pair that sat on the desk. “I’ll stay with you long enough to make sure the call connects and that there are no technological hiccups, but as soon as that’s established, I’ll let you be alone.”
“Okay.” Jake settled into the chair and reached for the headphones.
Prism clicked an application on the computer and a screen popped up saying it was waiting for the other party to join. Jake’s throat tightened, but he put on the headphones and kept his exterior calm. Prism stepped to the side. For a moment she stood, awkwardly rubbing her arms, her eyes on the floor before she again spoke.
“Jake, before ... look, I have no doubt your brother loves you and wants the best for you, but he’s sold on the life your uncle has chosen for you both.”
Jake stiffened.
“I’m just saying, everything he says will be filtered through that bias.” She put her hand on Jake’s shoulder. “You’ve come a long way in a relatively short time. Please, remember that you don’t have to be what your family thinks you are. You’re you. You have choices, and as much as you must love your brother, you also need to remember that you and only you are responsible for your life and future.”
Jake pulled away. “Yeah, and you don’t have any ulterior motives. Not like you’re trying to brainwash me into being your perfect little DOSA minion or anything.”
Lines deepened around Prism’s eyes. “I don’t care if you end up in DOSA. I just don’t want you to end up in jail ... or worse.” She withdrew and turned back to the screen. Dots pulsed across the video call app before Caleb, wearing an orange jumpsuit, came into view.
Jake’s pulse quickened, and he leaned forward in his seat. “Caleb, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” his brother answered.
Prism stepped back. “Audio all right?”
Jake gave her a thumbs up, attention fully on his brother. She smiled sadly and left the room. Jake waited to speak again until the door had clicked shut behind her.
“You’re not in a jumpsuit,” his brother observed. “Where’d you get that outfit?”
Jake glanced self-consciously down at his plain gray t-shirt, one of the items Prism had purchased for him when he came to the camp. “They bought me some clothes and stuff. Nothing fancy, but I guess they didn’t want me going around naked on laundry day.”
“So you’re not in a holding cell?” Caleb frowned.
Jake squirmed.
“I’m not supposed to talk about where I am. They said they’d end the call if I did.”
“Figures.” Caleb leaned back in his seat. As he did, Jake heard a slight clinking sound. Though Jake couldn’t see his brother’s hands, it sounded like he might be in cuffs.
His own freedom when compared to his brother’s captivity filled him with guilt. Also, they’d been messing with his brain, erasing memories. What would that even be like?
“They aren’t ... they aren’t hurting you, are they?” Jake stammered.
“Nah. DOSA’s got rules to play by. They’re keeping me in a cell, but the biggest risk is that I’ll die of boredom.” A sneer crept across Caleb’s mouth. “They don’t have much on me. I can handle a few years in here. It’ll be a nice vacation.”
Jake’s tension eased somewhat. “You’re okay, then? You’re getting enough to eat?”
“What? Are you my mother now?” Caleb scoffed.
“I just want to make sure you’re all right,” Jake mumbled.
Caleb sat in silence.
I’m all right, in case you were wondering.
Jake searched his mind for something to talk about that wouldn’t get either brother in trouble with DOSA or cause whoever was listening in to end the call. “I’ve been playing a lot of video games lately,” he hazarded.
Caleb looked at him like he were crazy.
Unable to handle the silence any longer, Jake pushed through his discomfort and kept going. “There’s this one I didn’t think I’d like much, but it’s kind of fun. Basically it’s soccer but with cars—”
“This is a waste of time.”
> Jake flinched at the sudden sharpness of Caleb’s voice. Caleb shifted in his chair, pulling his manacled hands away from the table so the chain clinked.
“We can’t plan anything. You can’t tell me anything. What’s the point to this?” His lips curled in frustration and contempt.
Jake swallowed. “It’s good to just see you again—to make sure you’re doing okay.”
To show you I’m doing okay.
Caleb snorted.
Jake felt himself shrinking and forced himself to sit up taller. He could vaguely remember a time when he and Caleb used to hang out together as friends and brothers. Wrestling, kicking soccer balls, just talking about anything and everything. When Caleb’s powers had manifested at thirteen, Uncle Vic had snatched him up to work with the gang. After that, Jake had spent hours every day trying to force his own abilities to activate. It had only taken six months, but when he’d joined Caleb with Uncle Vic, something had changed. Everything they’d previously enjoyed together now seemed childish, and the only thing that mattered to Caleb—and eventually to Jake—was learning the ropes of the Sand Fox business as quickly as possible.
While life at Camp Sable also involved training, there were video games, hanging out with Wherezit, and just joking around with Marco and Laleh. Maybe it wasn’t important, but he liked it. It was something to share.
“I could tell you about my friends here—”
“Friends?” Caleb’s eyes narrowed at Jake.
“The other kids here—we—we hang out, goof around, you know?” Jake’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
Caleb leaned closer to the camera and lowered his voice to a menacing level. “Jake, look at me.”
Jake forced himself to obey.
“DOSA is not your friend.”
“I know that.” Jake frowned.
“Do you? Because it sounds like you’re getting caught up in whatever little playpen it is they’ve stashed you in. Wherever you are, you aren’t there to make friends. You aren’t there to have fun or ‘goof around.’ You have one purpose: get out of there as fast as you can and get back to where we both belong, with Uncle Vic and the gang, got it?”
Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I know. I’m trying.”
But had he really tried? It had been weeks since his one serious attempt to escape. Since then he’d been playing video games and catching up on school and feeding chickens—and he didn’t hate it. He didn’t hate having free time to do whatever he wanted, people to talk to about something other than gang business, the same bed to sleep in every night. Was Caleb right? Was he getting sucked in?
And was it really such a bad thing?
His life with the Sand Foxes had been all about trying to prove that he could keep up with the older members of the gang, function as an adult. Here there was no pressure to do that. He could be a sixteen-year-old kid—a student, a friend—and he kind of liked it.
“Caleb, maybe it’s not such a bad thing that ... what if the gang isn’t the right choice for right now? I mean, we’ve got our whole life ahead of us. Maybe wasting our time with video games and goofing off is something we should be doing more of.”
“Well, that’s great for you, out there in Pansyville while I’m stuck in here, rotting away in a holding cell.” Caleb snarled at him.
“I didn’t mean it like that—”
“What did you mean it like then?” Caleb’s eyes flashed, and Jake subsided.
After a tense minute, Caleb spoke again. “Look, Jake, you’re a kid. You don’t know how this works. Maybe those DOSA types are talking you up, making you think you can have something outside the gang, maybe even some crap about you being a hero like them, but it’s just that: crap.”
Jake winced. “I don’t want—”
“You and me? We only exist because Uncle Vic paid for his and our mother’s super gene activation. Without that, we would’ve been nothing.”
“I didn’t—”
“Let me tell you what Uncle Vic told me when I joined the gang, what he should’ve told you.”
Jake’s shoulders hunched towards his ears. “He did,” he breathed, wishing he could stop the words he knew were about to come out of Caleb’s mouth, the words that had stung his pride as a kid and set the tone for his life with the Sand Foxes.
“You’re nothing without the gang,” Caleb continued. “Loyalty is everything. Without it, we’re nothing, any of us, but especially you.”
“I know!” Jake said.
“Do you, though?” Caleb angled away from him. “You belong to the Sand Foxes, kid. Whatever DOSA has been feeding you, get it out of your head. They’re only buttering you up in hopes of you testifying against Uncle Vic and the gang. Trust me. They’ve been in my ears constantly since I was brought in. I’m just smart enough not to listen.”
Jake slumped in his chair. “I know, Caleb. I didn’t think—I’m just ...”
He just wanted it to be over. Caleb was right. DOSA wanted his testimony, not him. Even Fade and Prism had admitted the agency was after that. Even so, he didn’t want to go back to the gang. He hadn’t even realized it until now, but the memory of Uncle Vic spouting about his worthlessness—and now hearing those same words from the one person he thought cared about him—made the thought of returning to that life feel empty.
Is it too much to ask to have somebody want me? Some place to just ... be.
Be what, though? Not a hero. That was crap. A villain? No, he didn’t want that. Not really.
I really am nothing. Not a hero. Not a villain. Just ... nothing.
“I think we’re done here,” Caleb said. “Hey, guard!” A second later the feed blinked out. Jake sat in silence, headphones still perched on his head. He couldn’t face the others right now. Not when he knew his weakness was painted on his face.
Jake focused on his powers. He flickered in and out of his solid state in every part of his body not influenced by the disruptor, hovering for a moment over the chair then sinking partially into it only to rise above it again. The energy soothed him, like a warm shower for his entire being.
The familiarity of it chased the doubt from his head. Even if he didn’t know where he belonged, he had powers. He could take care of himself. He’d survive this. He was tougher than anyone else thought, and he’d prove it.
Putting the headphones back on the desk, he left the room. Prism waited in the hallway, sitting in a chair she must’ve placed there after leaving Jake alone, reading a book. She looked up in surprise when Jake appeared.
“Done already?”
“We didn’t have much to say.” Jake kept his voice cold.
She searched his face for a moment before giving a slow nod. “If you want to talk I’m here—”
“Yeah, great. Whatever. Can I go?” Shame churned within Jake. Being difficult would only let her know he was upset. He needed to get out of here, to get away from her, from people.
“No one’s stopping you.” She moved aside.
Jake started downstairs but paused halfway. Marco stood in the hallway below, fidgeting. Jake almost backed up and hid in their bedroom, but before he could, Marco looked up and waved at him.
Wincing inwardly, Jake steeled himself to act normally and descended. He tried to walk past, but Marco followed.
“Did you have a good call with your brother?” Marco asked.
“It was all right.” Realizing he couldn’t shake Marco that easily, Jake paused in the hallway right before the entrance to the dining room. “Nothing to talk about, though.” Really not wanting to discuss it, he quickly changed the subject. “How about your mom?”
Marco’s smile faded in a way that caused Jake immediate regret and discomfort.
“She didn’t make it.”
It took Jake a minute to grasp the meaning of the words. A hardened knot formed in his chest, and he heard his own voice take on a chill that reminded him of his uncle. “What do you mean she didn’t make it?”
“I’m sure she tried. It’s not
easy for her, you know. She has to work, and she gets tired. It’s probably really hard on her that I’m not there helping out like I should be—I shouldn’t ask too much of her right now—”
“It’s a video call. You’re not asking her to donate a kidney,” Jake snapped.
Marco quailed back.
Forcing himself to count to ten, Jake steadied his voice. “Did she at least say why she didn’t show up?”
“I guess she’s not feeling well.” Marco shuffled his feet then his mouth contorted. “What if she’s really sick? I should be there to take care of her, not here playing video games and goofing off with my powers—”
“Marco, that ‘goofing off’ is going to mean the difference between you learning to control your powers and maybe accidentally burning down a house with you in it.” Jake gripped the smaller boy’s shoulder. “You need to be here. More than any of us.”
“Yeah, but with the disruptor cuff, I don’t have to use my powers. I can just keep them under control that way,” Marco continued.
“Maybe, but is that really what you want?” Jake frowned. “I thought you wanted to join DOSA, to be a hero someday?”
“I do, but if it means leaving Mom alone with no one to look out for her, I can’t be selfish—”
“Frick, yeah, you can!” Jake tightened his hold. “Marco, of all of us, you have the best chance of getting through this and coming out a hero on the other end. Your mom should be looking out for you, not the other way around.”
Marco stayed silent, but uncertainty flickered in his eyes.
Jake let out a long breath. Dang, was he really doing this? Yeah, he was.
“Hey, Marco, look at me,” he said.
Marco raised his eyes to Jake, bottom lip quivering.
“Your mom has her own problems, but you can’t fix them. You’re just a kid. What you can do is set yourself up to have a future where maybe you can help her, or at the very least where you won’t need so much help yourself, and to do that, you need to stick this out. All right?”
“All right,” Marco whispered, his voice cracking.
