Sidekicked (32 page)

I know because I heard her begging for my life only moments ago. When I started coming out of my ether-induced stupor and found myself chained to the ceiling, looking through blurry eyes at a Super and her sidekick arguing. The Fox was dressed in her customary attire, the white suit, sword included, though she was no longer wearing her mask, and I could see the face of Kyla Kaden clearly in the harsh fluorescent light. Jenna was waving her hands, talking quickly, breathlessly. She does that. I could tell by the motions that she was thoroughly ticked off, more angry than I've ever seen her before. They were speaking in whispers, easy enough for me to hear.

“You said he'd be safe.”

“That's before you led him here. We only needed him to draw out the Titan. Now he knows too much.”

That's when I figured out they were talking about me. I wanted to say that I actually knew a whole lot less than I thought I did yesterday or even an hour ago, but my voice hadn't come back to me yet.

“But you told me no one else would get hurt. This wasn't part of the plan.”

“Everything has a cost,” the Fox snarled. “Power requires sacrifice. And look at it this way—he will die a hero. You can make up whatever story about him you want. Say that he went down fighting. If you'd like, you can even say he was instrumental in the Dealer's demise.”

I saw Jenna, or the Silver Lynx, or the Jack of Hearts, or whoever she is, shake her head. “But he hasn't done anything,” she pleaded, which was kind of true, when you think about it.

And then the Fox hit her, not as hard as she could, but hard enough to end the discussion. Jenna brought her hand to her face and stared at her own red, wet fingers. The Fox just glared at her.

“You made your choice,” she said. “These are the consequences. Turn on me now, and it will be the
last
thing you do.”

Jenna wiped the blood on her sleeve and turned to look at me, and I wanted to say something, but there was no way to keep the Fox from hearing as well. Then Jenna looked beside me.

And that's when I noticed the man hanging next to me. In a T-shirt and blue jeans. His feet bare. His massive frame just hanging there like a huge slab of beef.

The Titan and the Sensationalist. Together at last.

Which brings me to this moment. Hanging with my Super. Though he isn't saying or doing anything, doesn't acknowledge me in any way, just dangles there with that look of stupid resignation on his face, as if this was all to be expected. Almost as if he deserved it. And I can't help but feel that his dead weight is going to make me sink even faster. Jenna and the Fox are no longer speaking to each other. Jenna has retreated into the corner. The Fox stands at the computer terminals, punching buttons. I turn to the Titan, twisting around in my cuffs as much as I'm able.

“Okay. See?” I whisper. “This is exactly what I'm talking about. If you and I had spent even a little time together, we might have some really great plan for getting out of here.”

But the Titan ignores me. I look at the bank of video monitors showing the grounds outside the factory. No doubt the Fox saw me coming. I didn't even think to look for cameras. Mr. Masters would be disappointed—though I'm guessing he's got bigger problems as well, wherever he is. The monitors reveal nothing. There's no one else out there. Reinforcements have yet to arrive. I try to wiggle around, see if there is any way I can free my wrists, but I'm cuffed too tight.

The woman at the console, I don't know what to call her anymore, speaks to us without even turning around.

“Don't bother struggling,” she says over her shoulder. “Those bindings are made from an experimental alloy that my father created with you in mind. They're nearly unbreakable. Maybe in your prime you might have stood a chance.”

She's obviously talking to the Titan. At the rate I'm going, I'm not sure I'll even have a prime. The warning is unnecessary, though. The Titan doesn't struggle. He barely keeps his head up.

“He thought of everything, my father,” the Fox-Dealer-Kyla-former Jack of Hearts says. I look over at Jenna, but she just stares at her Super, still on her knees, blood caked on her lip. “Even the day you killed him. He knew he couldn't defeat you, so he played to your weakness. Your big, soft heart.” Kyla turns around and stares at us. The Titan doesn't say a word. It's as if he can't even hear her. “It's in the Code, isn't it—the sanctity of life, the idea that everyone is worth saving? He knew exactly how you'd react.

“So I played dead, you took the bait, and he saved me. Those glass tubes led to tunnels that traveled to the other side of the island. Unfortunately, only I managed to get out in time. My father wasn't so fortunate. But you knew that—you watched as the whole place came down around him.” Beside me, the Titan takes a long, deep breath, though he still makes no move to free himself. Kyla draws her sword and runs her finger along the blade. Even from here I can see how sharp it is.

“I wanted to kill you immediately, of course, but I knew I needed to be stronger. So I trained, spent some time on both sides, working for whoever would pay me, making the most of my father's gifts, waiting for this moment. But by the time I got here, you had all but disappeared. The Titan—leader of the Legion of Justice. Gone. That's when I realized the best way to find you was to become you.”

“Your father would be proud,” the Titan grunts, the first words he's spoken since I found him dangling beside me.

The Fox glares at him. “He actually admired you, you know. Not for your heroics, all those lies about truth and justice and peace on earth. No. It was your tenacity. Your determination. You would have hunted him to the ends of the earth.”

“I never meant to kill him,” the Titan says.

“Don't be so certain.” The Fox turns and looks at Jenna, who quickly looks away. “We are all capable of more than we think. I became a Super so that I could more easily hunt you down and destroy you. But then, somewhere along the line I developed a taste for it. The adoration. The fawning, gape-mouthed bystanders. My statue in the courthouse. A villain is only ever feared. But a Super is feared and loved. And that's when I realized what I wanted most of all. Not just to be the one who defeated the Titan. But to be the only one who mattered. To be the last one standing.”

“Pretty ambitious,” the Titan says.

“I needed help, of course,” Kyla continues. “A villain to frighten the masses. Some henchmen to sweep away the opposition. And someone who could help me put all the pieces in place. Someone I could teach the way my father taught me.”

I look over at Jenna again, hoping to get her attention, but she still refuses to look up.

“When all is said and done, they will be chanting my name in the streets.”

“You'll be a real hero,” the Titan spits.

The Fox turns her back on us again.

“Both of us know there's no such thing,” she says. “There's no good or evil. There are just those with power and those without. You and your Legion never understood this. My father didn't even understand this. Your Codes and your rules and your tiresome, outdated beliefs. Your epic battles for one truth or another. Such a waste. And I'm about to put an end to it all.”

Suddenly one of the screens in the bank of monitors jumps to life, and I watch a Chevy Suburban gallop over three parking barriers and then skid to a halt just outside the factory's front gates. The doors open, and the reinforcements pile out. Mike, Nikki, Eric. Gavin emerges from the driver's side. H.E.R.O. has arrived. I told Mike to go get help. I should have been more specific. Still, the sight of my friends piling out of the car, all in costume, offers a sprinkling of hope on top of the big cement cake of doom I'm facing.

The Fox watches the monitor for a moment, then spins on Jenna.

“Are there any of your friends you didn't invite?”

Jenna finally glances up at the screen with a look of concern. Her arms are wrapped around her knees. The Fox turns back to the controls and presses a few buttons. Onscreen I see a couple of metal spheres hurtling toward the other members of H.E.R.O. Attack robots. I've seen them before, in the training simulations back at school, though those were only for practice, their weapons systems offline. This doesn't look like practice.

“You'd better hope that keeps them busy,” the Fox snaps at Jenna. “I think one dead sidekick on your conscience is enough, don't you?”

“Actually I think one is overdoing it,” I mutter, but nobody pays any attention. Kyla brushes the red hair from her face and takes a deep breath, regaining her composure. She walks to the edge of the pit and looks up at us, looks up at him. “We now have exactly fifteen minutes before this whole place explodes. Of course, you won't feel a thing,” she adds, nodding toward the cement still pumping away beneath us. “To be honest, I really thought you'd put up more of a fight.”

“That makes two of us,” I say.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” the Titan says—to her or me, I'm not sure. Still, I look at him and I can start to see something in his eyes. He isn't looking at me or the cement already starting to thicken beneath us. He is looking at her, at the woman who spent the last several years planning her revenge, preparing for this very moment. And then I see his muscles tense, as if testing, for the first time, just how strong the cuffs really are.

And then I hear something. A whisper.

But it's not him.

It's Jenna.

“Listen,”
she says under her breath.

I look over at her, and she catches my eye. When she speaks her lips barely move.

“The control panel is down and on your right.”

I twist a little. There it is. Five buttons.
OPEN. CLOSE. RAISE. LOWER. RELEASE.
I nod.

“If his hands were free, do you think he could catch you?”

I take another look at the Titan. He is still staring at Kyla, who is busy putting on her mask, getting back into character, ready to save the world. She probably has some grand story for how she and the Dealer battled to the death, how she almost saved the Titan and his helpless, unknown sidekick and Cryos and Hotshot and all the rest of Justicia's Supers but was just too late. She will be the only one left, and she will be unstoppable.

I study the man hanging next to me.
Could
he catch me? Probably.
Will
he is the question.

“I'm going to count from five,”
Jenna hisses through gritted teeth.

I lean in as close as I can to the Titan and whisper, “In a moment your hands will be free.”

He doesn't respond. His eyes are bloodshot, unblinking, staring at the Fox.

“We
will
fall,” I add, though I'm not sure this bears stating.

He still doesn't say anything.

“I . . . don't . . . want . . . to . . . die,”
I say, very slowly, so that he can fully appreciate the sentiment.

Finally, at last, he turns to me. The first time he's ever looked me in the eyes.

“You won't,” he says.

The Fox finishes adjusting her mask and turns back to the bank of monitors. I watch as Silent Death leaps up and kicks one of those little metal spheres out of the sky and Stonewall crushes one beneath his fist. Keeping the trash off the streets. I wish Mr. Masters were here to see this. Or at least to see them. I'm kind of glad he's not here to see me right now. A voice over the intercom casually informs us that we have ten minutes to evacuate the building.

“If there's one thing I learned from our last battle,” the Fox says over her shoulder, “it's that there's nothing like a good old-fashioned explosion to cover your tracks.” She turns to Jenna. “Stop sniveling and stand up. It's time to go play hero,” she says with a soft smile, almost motherly. Then she adds, with more force, “Unless you'd prefer me to just leave you
all
here.” Jenna nods and straightens up. She wipes her nose one last time. She looks at me and speaks through still clenched teeth.

“Five,”
she says.

I feel the muscles in my legs tense. The Fox scans the video monitors one last time before shutting them off. The members of H.E.R.O.—caught in a fierce battle against spinning, buzzing robots—disappear as the screen goes dark.

“Four.”

Jenna walks past the controls. Beside me, the Titan's biceps bulge. Gavin has nothing on him.

“Three.”

She stops and turns.

“Two.”

The Fox looks over just in time to see Jenna with her hand over the button. Even with her mask on, I can see her face is creased into a frown.

“Whatever you are thinking of doing, I would consider it very carefully,” Jenna's Super says coldly. “We will be the greatest heroes the world has ever known.”

Jenna looks at me, looks back at the Fox.

“You said yourself, there's no such thing.”

And once again I am falling to my death.

T
he Superhero Sidekick Code of Conduct has four rules. They are designed to guide us in our battle against evil, to help us walk in the path of goodness and light, and to protect Super, sidekick, and OC alike.

There is, of course, the main rule about upholding the virtues of justice and rightness and honor and all things sweet, rainbowy, and good, which I still insist doesn't say a thing
specifically
about math tests and is somewhat open to interpretation.

There is the rule about not betraying your Super's secrets, including his whereabouts and identity, even to the girl who isn't your girlfriend but who you kind of wish
was
your girlfriend, even if she does turn out to be a traitor, which, in retrospect, I guess
I
kind of dropped the ball on.

There is a rule about never endangering lives, which maybe I broke when I was doing sixty in a forty in a stolen cop car down the streets of Justicia with my head hanging out the window, though I swear I didn't hit anything living.