The Last Superhero (25 page)

And what could that be?

“
How
much rent do you owe?”

Oh no. Not that. No.

Shake my head. He sighs.
Shake my head some more.

“
As
much as I'd love for you to stay with me we both know it's not
possible.”

“
That
doesn't mean you're going to be paying my rent, though.”

“
I
want to help. That's all there is to it.”

So do I and you're too
scared I'll fall sloppy dead.

“
I
won't. Sorry. I can't.” Slide off my seat and head out of the
kitchen because of that somewhere I have to be at ten.

Feel his gentle hand land on
my shoulder and hate that he'd brought up that subject and don't say
it's pride 'cause it's got nothing to do with that.

“
Giana,
please.”

“
No.”
Firm, a bit harsh, but firm. “And I won't discuss it any
further.”

Let him hug me like that
will change my mind, but it doesn't. Look 'round the televisionless
living room and find my bag.

“
I'll
be at the bookshop until it's time to go see Mom.” He's about
to interject when I add. “I can come here once visiting hours
are over.”

He shuts his mouth, shifts
his jaw to the side.

“
I
didn't mean to upset you.”

“
I'm
not upset.” Swing my bag over my shoulder and yeah, I'm boiling
inside. “I just don't feel right taking money from you. Hell, I
don't even know where you get your money and no, I don't care. I
don't want to know.”

He drops it that instant and
walks with me to the door and now I'm the one trying to soften the
situation because he's frowning and I don't like it when he frowns.

A kiss and a tight embrace
do the trick until he's constricting me.

“
Can't
breathe!” I cry and he laughs and lets me go and he's biting
his lip again and the frown is gone.

And I leave to see what
awaits me when I meet Wyatt and tell him all the things that leave
him staring wide-eyed at me as I shift uncomfortably in the armchair
I'm sitting in inside his antique-styled office.

25

“
He's
alive.”

“
Yes.”

Rocks back, then forth, rubs
his hands on his thighs dressed in corduroy.

“
Salvatore
Jr. is alive.”

Is this dude cracking up on
me?

“
Yes.”

“
I
don't know, Giana. This sounds dangerous.”

“
It
does. However, if you met him you'd know he's not a bad person,
regardless of everything that happened back when he was younger.”

He stands, walks to a
window.

I stay seated, give him some
space.

“
Any
other situation in which you've seen this other him, this alter-ego
slip?”

Tell him? He's a
psychiatrist, he's heard worst.

“
This
morning when he was about to climax during sex.”

Doesn't move, unfazed.

“
It's
as if this is embedded in his instinctual side,” he says.
“Closely related to his primal instincts.”

“
It
slips when he isn't in complete control of his mind.”

“
I'd
still like to run some tests on him, if that were possible.”
Now he turns and looks at me with his hands clasped behind his back.
“You realize you've made the biggest scientific discovery of
the last century, right?”

“
I
wouldn't call it that, though.”

Strides to me, sits again.

“
Giana.
That man is the last link to a whole species that, until now, has
been thought extinct. This is huge. That he's still alive and has
been living under our noses all this time... God! And his abilities
are intact.”

“
Why
wouldn't they be?”

Takes a deep breath. “He's
been studied before, extensively and in not the most humane ways.”

“
Not
the most humane?”

“
There's
this story about a doctor who tried to keep him in a cell once.
Others kept running experiments on him until he was too weak to go
on.” Pause for a second. “I know people who would kill
for the opportunity to get their hands on him now.”

“
What
for, exactly?”

“
For
many years, there's been an itch in the scientific community on how
to bring superheroes back. Their DNA isn't too different from ours,
so most of their efforts have concentrated on trying to replicate it
in order to have a new generation of them. God knows with what
purposes, mostly military, I assume.”

“
But
they haven't succeeded.”

“
No,
none have. Nevertheless, if they knew Salvatore Jr. is still alive
they'd do everything in their power to get to him.”

Well, fuck me.

“
I've
gotta talk to Ross.”

“
Ross?”

“
This
Department of Defense guy that's helping me.”

“
Department
of Defense?!”

“
He's
nice, he's on our side. Steven's been living in some witness
protection program sort of shit.”

“
Giana!”
Wyatt cries to stop me from going for my phone. “You can't
trust the government with this!”

“
They
already know. It's not like I've got much of a choice.”

“
You
told me you're able to do things inside his nightmares.”

Don't switch subjects on me,
pal!

“
Yeah.”

“
And
against his fantasies... Maybe we could find a way for you to work
this out without outside interference.”

“
I've
been trying to.” Sit on the edge of my seat. “Genevieve,
his previous partner, could only stand and watch. But me? I even
managed to do this flying kick trick, but it wasn't enough. And when
we touched, it burned.”

“
Burned?”

“
We
burned each other on the spot where we made contact.”

“
There
may lie your answer, then.”

“
That's
what I thought. Burn him to death, maybe? But he always gets to hurt
me in the end.” His eyes wander to that mark on my neck I
didn't take the time to cover. Touch it, nervous eyes. “That
was during sex. He's not that kind of guy normally.”

“
There's
a serious physical risk involved in this based on what happened in
his previous relationship. Have you had any physical aftereffect?”

Pull my shirt's collar and
peek down and there it is. Undo the first buttons and show him the
faint coloring of bruised skin on my chest.

“
His
nightmare persona keeps hitting me in the same place. First time with
a knife, now a gunshot.”

He sees the bruise then
averts his sight.

Button the shirt back up and
feel so confused about all this.

“
I'd
love to help you, Giana, I really would.” Runs his fingers
through his hair. “But, thinking it through, I believe our best
approach would be to train your mind to be able to fight him during
the nightmares. You've got an active imagination. You're a writer and
an avid reader; you shouldn't need much training.”

“
I'm
no writer, Wyatt. All I do is edit stuff. You write. Daphne, Jake,
Frances write.”

Lock sights for a second.

Yeah, I've written stuff.

Keep thinking and
realization sweeps him.

“
What
if we add people to the room? Would they take part in the nightmares
too?”

“
I
think yes. He told me it's projected to anyone near him.”

“
Writers
conjure stuff out of nowhere, their imaginations surpass that of the
average person and you, you've written some awesome stuff and have
the critical eye of the editor. God, Giana, no wonder this alter ego
of his attacks you. Yours is worse than a normal Superego.”

Here we go.

Scoff. “Because some
writers are just walking Ids when it comes to their writing.”

And the things I've written
were no more than stinking pieces of shit.

He's got his hands together
as if in prayer, pressed against his mouth and I'm getting worried.

“
We
could make a team.”

“
What?!”

“
We
could be there to back you up in case he tries to hurt you again.”

“
I
don't know, Wyatt.”

“
You've
read our works. We write in genres that deal with this particular
kind of thing, from sci-fi to steampunk to paranormal to speculative
fiction, you name it... Giana, we can help. Like some thriller
writers have been able to help police with their work, we can deal
with dreams and nightmares like it's nothing.”

He's gaping. He's thinking.
He's seeing it in his head.

“
Wyatt?”

Earth calling Mr.
Psychiatrist.

“
We
can do this. He'll be outnumbered and, after all, it's all in our
heads. Nothing new to us.”

Next thing he'll be telling
Scotty to beam him up.

“
I
don't want to put anyone's life in danger.”

“
We
could write letters of consent. I mean, this is a once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity.”

His eyes, they're sparkling!
Man, oh man, I've just waved a treat at this dog.

“
What
if we don't succeed?”

“
Then
we'd have a lot of new stuff for our stories.”

“
No,
what if he manages to kill any of us?”

Forgot that for a moment,
didn't you?

“
I
don't think it'll come to that. We can make this a one-shot. Sedate
him, go in, do whatever we must to kill this other persona of his and
be done with it.”

Simple.

Life-threatening. But
simple.

“
Now,
to try and convince him to do any of this is another thing.”

“
That's
your part. Even though I'd love to be able to run tests on him, I
don't think he'll come willingly.” He stands, wheels on the
spot. “If you let us into the house though...”

Break the sentence, look me
in the eye.

Become instant accomplices
of a yet-to-be-thought crime.

“
You'll
have to give me time. A considerable amount.”

Shakes his head, raises his
hands. “It's your call.”

That was easy.

“
This
must remain between us.”

“
Of
course.”

A knock on the door.

“
That
must be my eleven o'clock.”

My cue to leave.

Stand. Shrug.

“
Thank
you for being so understanding, Wyatt.”