3.
Reed
Eden Prairie, Minnesota
It was just before midnight, and all of us had been glued to the TV in the bullpen for countless hours. I’d watched the footage coming out of Edinburgh with alternating fear and horror wrestling like twin snakes in my belly. Someone had turned loose metahuman powers in a major way, but naturally all the blame was going to Sienna, even though everyone on the planet knew she didn’t have the ability to shoot giant red exploding forcefield beams out of her hands (I don’t know how else to describe them). It was a subtle narrative trick, but one that the news anchor providing breathless coverage of the chaos—which hadn’t had an actual news update in about six hours—had well in hand by now.
“Again, we are coming to you live,” the head anchor—head wanker, more like—said, “and this is a BREAKING NEWS ALERT.” He got very self important as he said this, slight double chin wobbling, his bald head gleaming under the studio lights. “Sienna Nealon has been involved in rogue metahuman action this evening in Edinburgh, Scotland. Details are still scarce—”
“Hasn’t stopped you from talking about it non-stop for the last six hours though, has it?” Augustus Coleman said, his patience with this twenty-four-hour news bullshit as thin as my own. “I mean, really, people. Just shut up for a little while and let some facts roll in before you go running your mouths.”
“Well, that’s the hazard of humanity, isn’t it?” Jamal Coleman asked, quietly pensive. He was standing back, had been on his feet the whole time, occasionally walking back to his computer and giving it a tweak with his electricity powers, probably downloading the whole internet into his brain and coming back to stand, nervously, around the TV with the rest of us. “We always operate from incomplete information, but it never seems to stop us from arriving at our judgments. About our actions, about others…we’ve got an opinion on everything, but when you stop and think about it? It’s breathtaking how little we actually know.”
“Speak for yourself,” Guy Friday said. “I know lots. Lots and lots. I know so much you could fill books with it.” He was still wearing that black mask that he always seemed to wear, everywhere he went—which begged the question to me of how he didn’t get in trouble with stores when he did his shopping—but judging by the thin, pursed line that was his lips, showing through the gap for his mouth, he was as worried as the rest of us. You could kind of tell by the quiet. Under normal conditions, he wouldn’t shut up.
These were the first words Friday had said in about three hours. He had a hand on his chin, and he’d chewed his fingernails down to almost nothing, a ragged edge left on the tips.
Someone eased up to me, his curly, dirty blond hair visible by dint of the way he’d lowered his head, like he was doing some serious pondering of his own. “What the hell do we do about this?” Scott Byerly asked, voice so low that it wouldn’t be blazingly obvious to everyone else in the room that we were even talking.
“Yo, I can hear you,” Augustus said, not turning around. “Scotty. Meta-low talking only works around people who ain’t metas.”
“We’re not doing anything,” I said, answering probably a little too quickly. Every head in the bullpen turned to me.
“Yo, chief,” J.J. said, “this is Sienna we’re talking about.”
“She’s a big girl, though,” Abby said, giving a flash of her pink hair as she turned to speak directly to J.J. himself. “She can deal.”
“Hey, guys?” Chase Blanton asked, a little tentatively. She was the newest member of our team, and had only been with us for a couple months. She’d come recommended by Sienna. To me. In a dream. And as strange as that sounds, it was good enough for me. “I’m gonna head out, okay?”
“Sure,” I said, trying to be as quietly magnanimous as possible. We were way after hours here, and I hadn’t even considered how some of these people might have been hanging out because I was, following in the example of the boss. “Anyone who wants to go, seriously, guys, you can leave any time.”
“Yeah, we know that,” Jamal said, keeping his eyes fixed on the TV. “Angel and Miranda left hours ago.”
I looked around. I didn’t even know Miranda and Angel had gone. But then, I’d been a little distracted with what was going on with the TV and the complete lack of new news.
And here I was, left with a core group that had all—mostly—worked with and knew Sienna, and we were all standing around the bullpen with the hour hand creeping closer to midnight on the wall clock, watching a pointless news broadcast that would tell us no more than it had six hours ago, the last time they’d actually had something to report. The live broadcast from Scotland showed signs of the horizon lightening behind the reporter, grey skies showing themselves in full, UK glory.
I looked up; Chase had disappeared out of the exit to the lobby without another word, and that left those of us remaining all staring at the screen. No one was wavering, no one was looking around, trying to figure out when it was polite to make their exit. There was concern, there was worry—surprising, I know, coming from Friday, but it was there—and there was—I think—just a little fear.
Maybe that was just me.
“I’m heading out, guys,” I said, trying to put a pin in this before everybody stayed up til unholier hours for news that wasn’t forthcoming. Sienna had probably found a place to lay low, a nice hole she could crawl in and say, “To hell with the world,” until it forgot about her for a bit. Maybe she’d even jetted off to another continent. She could be almost to Australia by now, for all we knew, after all.
My announcement seemed to break up the party a little. “Say hey to Isabella for us,” Abigail called.
“You’re such a sweet and considerate person,” J.J. said. They leaned forward and kissed. Then again. Then—
“Yeah, I’m out, too,” Augustus said, on his feet at meta speed double time.
J.J. and Abby broke for air, and he winked at me, like he thought he’d done me a favor by clearing out the bullpen. “Just as well,” J.J. said. “You wouldn’t have wanted to see where it goes next.”
I cringed, not because of their inappropriate PDA, but because I saw one of our people had drifted over to them, leaning against over the top of the cubicle wall they were sitting in front of. “I’m interested,” Friday said, leaning over casually. “Go on. I’ll watch.”
“Time for me to call it a night,” Scott said, and bailed for the lobby.
“Yep, it’s late,” Jamal said, right after him.
“Too true, gents,” Augustus said, looking right at me. “Shall we?”
I looked at J.J., who appeared completely stricken, looking with paralyzed horror up at Friday. Abby was slightly cooler, but there was a sense of panic hiding in her eyes, one which I couldn’t find myself too sympathetic to, given how many times they’d pulled this geek love PDA trick to get us out of the office.
“We shall,” I said. “Later, kids.” And I walked out with Augustus, leaving them to their fates.
“Uh, Reed?” J.J. called after me.
“Just lock up when you guys leave, okay?” I called over my shoulder, and disappeared into the short hallway that led to the lobby. Augustus walked at my side, trying to keep a straight face.
“Okay,” Friday said after we left, “let’s get this party started. I’m thinking you can start by kissing her, like down the neck, and then you, girl whose name I can’t remember—”
“It’s Abigail,” she said coldly.
“Whatever. You bite his earlobe. Like you mean it. Like a raccoon with rabies, you know? And then—”
“This isn’t an adult movie, Friday,” Abby said. “We don’t need a director.” There was a short pause. “Oh…oh, God. Why did I even have to explain that to you?”
“I’m thinking severe brain damage has something to do with it,” J.J. said.
As soon as Augustus and I were out the front door, Augustus dissolved into a fit of snickering. Jamal and Scott were waiting just outside, watching the door like they knew we were coming. The sky was black like poured tar, a few streetlights scattered around the parking lot holding the night at bay around us. It was a warm summer night, one of the few in Minnesota where it felt like it wasn’t going to get cool at all, maybe.
I came to a stop, feeling a little like I’d walked into an ambush. “Why do I feel like you guys are about to draw guns and shoot me down right here?”
Augustus shifted nervously next to me. “Dude…you were dead silent in there, for like…hours.”
“We were just wondering if you were okay,” Scott said, and his lips creased with a supportive smile.
“I’m fine,” I said, folding my arms in front of me. “I’m not the one being chased by John Law on another continent.”
“It’s okay to worry about her,” Augustus said.
“Didn’t know I needed permission for that,” I said as lightly as I could given the subject matter, “but thanks.”
“He just means that what you’re feeling, what you’re thinking—it’s all normal,” Scott said.
I tried not to be a dick, but I probably missed the mark. “It’s normal to have your sister be the subject of an international manhunt? Interesting. I should look into support groups for that, then. Find some people who understand.”
“Reed…” Augustus started.
“Guys,” I said, pre-empting what I was sure was going to be a very kind set of thoughts that I’d end up somehow throwing back in their faces, “it’s okay. I’m okay. And I’ll see you all tomorrow.” And with that I turned to walk away, a gnawing pit of worry still writhing in my stomach.