Life Light (15 page)

“I really doubt unleashing an angry healer on them is safe,” Nico drawls with amusement. “Actually, I need to scan you, Alyssa--there’s a very good chance you’ve got more offensive abilities than Aubrey does.”

“What, like burping?”

“No, like attacks.”

“We’ll get Aubrey’s attack working sooner or later,” Liz says. “It’s just a matter of her learning how to access it.”

“Regardless, what we need from you both now isn’t an attack,” Nico says. “What we need is support for our teams. You two are the perfect pep talk.”

“Maybe she is, but they don’t even know me,” Alyssa says. “It probably wouldn’t even work if they DID know me,” she mutters under her breath.

Nico turns, looking at her for a long moment. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and a familiar green light scans her. For a moment he stares at the screen, tapping it once in a while. She looks at me in confusion. “Didn’t he do this already?” she asks me.

“You’ve changed since Aubrey fixed your problem,” he answers before I can. He turns the phone, showing her an image of herself. I look at it, curious as well. Light yellow lines make up seventy percent of the line replica of her. “You’re a B class healer,” he says bluntly. “If you were a regular super, you’d be considered an extremely decent addition to most of the Halls. I won’t lie, Double M wouldn’t accept you--but he’s an elitist jerk. But you’re not a regular super, you’re a healer. Do you know how many healers the Hall has today?”

“Um, a handful?”

“Two. They’re standing right in front of me,” he says bluntly, pointing to me and to her. “If you want the most powerful super in the universe to clap his hands and do a jig, all you would have to do is ask--he’s right there,” he says, pointing at Grandpa. Grandpa lifts his hands, clapping twice.

She looks shocked. I watch as she looks at me, feeling a bit embarrassed, myself. “I try not to,” I admit, “but sometimes I find myself lecturing them. It’s for their own good!”

“But--” she starts out, “if I’m so important, why did no one find me?” she demands. “Nobody even cared that my own brother was using me as a tool! Nobody cared that my parents thought I started drinking at fifteen! Nobody cared that I was sent to shrink after shrink, trying to figure out what was wrong with my head!”

To my shock, Nico steps forward and pulls her into a hug before I can. “I’m sorry,” he says as she starts to cry. “We didn’t find you, you found us--but we’re not going to let that happen again, right?” he asks her, stroking her hair. She nods slightly. “That’s why it’s so important that the groups find the outed healers. You know that better than almost anyone, both of you do. They could easily be living lives similar to the one you just left,” he tells her.

She nods again, wiping angrily at the tears. “We have to save them,” she says, looking at me.

“We’ve got the best group in the world on it,” I tell her. “We’ll save all of them, I promise.” Nico steps away, pocketing his phone and looking at Liz.

“Are you going back, or are you staying here?” he asks her curiously.

“I’m staying,” she says.

“Then go keep Skye occupied,” he says, “she’s going to get bored sooner or later.”

“Why am I the one that has to do it?” Liz demands.

“Because you’re her new big sister, little sis,” Nico says with an evil grin. “She’s adopted us.”

“I don’t remember any paperwork being signed,” Liz complains, walking over and hugging me. “You can do it,” she tells me. “Don’t tell your sisters, but you’re my favorite.”

I burst out laughing. “You told Ditto that just last week, and you told Emily that the week before--it’s my week of being favorite, isn’t it?”

She grins at me. “I’ve got a schedule to keep! I have to talk Emily into bringing out Repeat next week, so she can be included,” she adds.

“Good luck with that,” I say, shaking my head. Technically that gives Em a lot more time as favorite, since they’re doppelgangers, but I don’t care. Liz loves me and that’s the only thing that matters.

“Before we start," Nico says, looking at us, "we all need to get some rest. Get to bed, girls, we have work in the morning."

***

“This is all your fault,” Michael says, turning on Rylon. The locker room is full of bruised up teenage boys, all recovering from early morning practice. “You just had to let her go off and join the Hall--we NEED her, Rylon!”

“I didn’t know she was doing it! She probably sent them a note when I wasn’t home. But this is as much your fault as it is mine,” Rylon says. “They caught you jerking her around in the middle of class, you moron!” She’s his sister, a voice whispers in the back of his mind. No, he tells the voice, she’s a freak. She was probably secretly adopted or traded for his REAL sister at birth. There’s no way they're related by blood.

“Don’t blame me for the fact that you couldn’t control your sister!” Michael snarls.

“A super hero caught you red handed,” Rylon snaps back. “I’m surprised you’re even alive, now.”

“We saw it,” one of the other boys agrees. “You were stupid. And there’s no chance she’s coming back after that stupid interview. Not that there was a chance in the first place--she’s going to the same school Kid Liberty and Cold Steel go to.”

“Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

“Doesn’t Fire Hazard go there, too?”

“SHUT UP!” Michael bellows. “We need her back,” he snaps, pointing at Rylon. “Convince your parents that they need to bring her back--where is she now?”

“The Arctic Circle,” Rylon says, leaning back and scowling. “They came and asked for permission. There’s no way we’re going to get her back.”

“Then what about the other ones? You know, those glowy eyed YouTube guys?” one of the guys ask. His name is Tom. “What if that’s why Alyssa was kidnapped by Dragon?”

“What do you mean?” Michael asks him.

“Let’s say that light--the freaky one that hit everyone--really DID do what Dragon said it was supposed to. Maybe the reason their eyes glowed was because they’re supers, like he was looking for. I mean, Alyssa is a super, or something, but she looks normal, right? I bet all those people that were recorded are, too.”

“And your point?”

“There’s one in a school over in Raymore-Peculiar,” Tom says. “It was in the gym--I know that gym, I’ve got a friend that goes there, sometimes I go to his basketball games.”

“Do you know the kid?”

“No, but I bet we can find him,” Tom says, digging out his phone. “We know what he looks like, after all.” He brings up the YouTube video, showing it to them.

“Let’s get him,” Michael says.

“Now?” Rylon asks.

“Now.”

***

“This is REALLY boring,” Carla says. Trent’s group, consisting of him, Carla, and Keliah, is sitting on the roof of the building closest to the small private high school in Raymore-Peculiar. He can’t exactly argue with her.

“We can’t just barge into the school demanding that they release one of their students, Carla,” he says patiently. “We’re not even certain he’s come to school today.” He looks over at Keliah, his curiosity showing. That she willingly came with them says a lot, since he’s only seen her in classes. Sure, he knows she has a crush on Jack, but she’s gotten quieter and quieter about it. Most likely because Jack still looks irritated whenever he sees her, poor girl.

“How are you doing, Keliah?” he asks softly.

“I’m fine,” she says, still staring at the school.

“We can take a break, if you want--”

“I don’t need coddled,” she says, finally looking at him.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just this is pretty new to you, right?”

She’s silent, her eyes going back to the school. “Hey, hey,” Carla says, dropping down next to Keliah, “he’s not being rude--he’s actually worried, you know? The first time is really scary!”

Keliah looks up at her and snorts derisively.

“No, seriously! This is America’s Son’s son, you know? Which means he’s alllll about making sure everyone is safe and happy and all that sort of stuff--I know, I went across the country with him once! He’s not going to make fun of you, or anything.”

“I bet America’s Son is acting,” Keliah says. “There’s no way someone can be that good of a guy.”

“He’s not acting,” Trent says, grinning slightly.

“Then it must make for some really boring comic books.”

Trent starts to laugh. “With as big a goofball as Dad is?” he says, looking at her. At one time he might have agreed, before that he would have been offended, but now--now he sees the humor in it. “Dad has some of the funniest comic books out there. You might not have noticed, but he doesn’t take himself very seriously at all.”

“He doesn’t seem to take ANYTHING seriously,” Keliah says. “Even my mom says he doesn’t seem to take his job seriously--sure he gets things done, but that’s only because he’s an S-class tank.” 

“He takes me seriously!” Carla protests. “He really helped--you know, right after the zoo."

“Just because he goofs around a lot doesn’t mean he’s playing around when saving lives,” Trent says. “Besides, that’s not his real career, anyway.”

“How is being a super hero NOT a real career?” Keliah asks. “They get paid, they have regular patrol schedules. They have to go across the world at the drop of a hat! Even now, Mom just got home from Egypt. She was gone for over a week.” The loneliness seems to echo in her voice. "And now she's with Emily's team, right? So she'll be gone for who knows how long, again."

“Dad and Mom both do that,” Trent says, looking at her with sympathy. It’s starting to become obvious to him what the real problem is. She’s lonely. He wonders if his girlfriend even has a clue--she’s still intent on blocking Jack from Keliah’s view whenever they’re in the same area. “But Dad says his real career--his real calling--is to be a preacher. If he lost his super powers and was turned into a norm all of a sudden, I don't think he would mind,” he says. “It would give him more time to focus on what matters most.”

“And saving lives doesn’t matter?” she demands.

“Saving souls matters more,” he says, quoting his father. “Dad says that saving them from death is temporary--sooner or later something is going to kill them--maybe age, maybe health, maybe a freak accident where there ISN'T a super to save them nearby. It’s what happens to them after they’re dead that lasts forever.”

“Nothing happens after death--you die, it’s game over,” Keliah says. “That’s why you have to live as much, and as long, as you can while you’re alive.”

“Sure, you need to live as much as you can--but just assuming that nothing happens afterwards... Isn’t that a little reckless?” Trent says. “Think of it like this--stand on this ledge with your back to it. Would you take a step backwards, if you didn’t know what was behind you?”

“That would be stupid.”

“What if you knew I would catch you?” Trent asks.

“I’ll do it!” Carla says, jumping to her feet and turning around.

That analogy is stupid! That’s nothing at all like death!”

“Sure it’s not--in death you don’t often get the choice to take that step back,” Trent says. “As a Christian, I absolutely believe that the moment I step off that ledge--the moment I die, God’s going to catch me. But just for a moment let’s go along with your theory--what happens if you’re right, and it’s game over?” he asks her. “If that’s true, what does it matter what I believe—what ANYONE believes while they're alive, as long as it doesn’t get anyone other than me hurt or killed?”

“Because you’re trying to force others into thinking the same thing you do!”

“Everyone tries to force people, or persuade people, into thinking the same they do--it’s human nature. But if you knew with all of your heart that what you believed was true and vital--don’t you think you’d want others to believe it, too? Especially if you believe there’s life after death,” he says. “Also, Carla, don’t do it here, we’ll draw too much attention to ourselves,” he adds, pulling the black girl off of the ledge.

“Because you’re believing in--in a daydream! It’s like still believing in the Easter Bunny! Or Santa! It’s stupid!”

“So believing in nothing--that there is no God, that there’s nothing at all after life, is more intelligent? I’d rather be considered stupid. It’s better than having nothing to look forward to except a handful of years and death.” He gives her a little grin. “There’s also the fact that I know for certain God’s helped me deal with several problems in my life.”

“Yeah? So says the tank class super hero that’s already got movies being planned about him--what sort of problems could Mr. Perfect have?”

Trent opens his mouth, about to reply when he sees a car pull to a stop in front of the school. The sight of four teenage boys climbing out has him touching his com link. “Nico? We have a problem.”

“What’s that?” Aubrey asks. “Nico put us on phones while he works on taking down that video--oh, sorry, hi, Trent.”

“Yeah, okay, well get him, would you? I need permission to interfere.”

“With what?”

“Alyssa’s brother and a couple of his pals just showed up at my target’s school.”