Supernova, p.35
Supernova, page 35
Their greatest weapon was Max, had always been Max.
But Adrian didn’t want Max anywhere near Ace Anarchy.
“You had help,” he finished lamely.
“He still has help,” Danna said. “Those villains haven’t defeated us yet. I’m ready for another round.”
Adrian bit the inside of his cheek, considering. She was right. They were beat down, but not defeated.
Ace would be expecting them to realign their forces before making a move. He would expect a full-scale attack on the cathedral, because that’s how the Renegades operated—with flashy attacks and extravagant displays of their strength. Whereas the Anarchists had adapted to be stealthy and secretive. They used the element of surprise, and that’s how they had bested the Renegades this time. That’s how Nightmare kept beating them.
Maybe he could win at her own game.
He faced his dads. They were already discussing counterattacks and battle maneuvers when he interrupted them.
“How much Agent N do you think they have left?”
Hugh shook his head. “It’s impossible to say for sure, but from the amount we had in storage, and what was used here today…” He frowned, pondering the question, then shook his head. “I can’t imagine it’s much.”
“Let’s hope so,” said Adrian. “If we’re going to attempt a counterattack, it would be nice if they didn’t have any more of that stuff at their disposal.”
“It would,” said Hugh, “but we can’t know for sure. It wouldn’t have required much to arm those bees with it. But I can talk to the lab, see if they can pull together an estimate for us.”
“And do we have any left for ourselves?” asked Adrian.
It seemed to take a moment for his question to register. Finally, Simon said, “They replaced our supply with some sort of decoy.”
“Yeah, I know, but there must be some left, somewhere?”
“I have some.”
He bristled at the sound of Genissa Clark’s haughty voice, though he did his best to hide his dislike as he faced her. She looked terrible, her skin practically translucent, with garish purple spots beneath her eyes. She was clutching her head, as if it would roll right off her shoulders if her hand wasn’t there to support it. He was surprised to see her at all. He’d half expected her to be dead, but she must have only been unconscious.
Nightmare’s doing?
“I took some with me when we went after Hawthorn,” she said, unholstering a gun from her hip. “I still have one dart left.”
Adrian wanted to appear grateful, but he was already trying to figure out what he would say when Genissa insisted she be allowed to join him on the risky mission he was considering.
To his surprise, she held the gun out to him, handle first.
“You can have it,” she said, almost angrily. “I’m done playing heroes and villains. For real this time. The Renegades aren’t worth this.”
He took the gun and watched as she tried to saunter away, though her movements were stiff and jerky. Adrian opened the projectile chamber and saw the lone dart inside, swirling with green liquid.
“Uh-oh,” said Oscar. “I sense some serious vigilante recklessness coming on.”
Adrian glared at him, wishing he hadn’t chosen that moment to remind his dads that they were still supposed to be upset with him.
“The only way we’re going to defeat Ace Anarchy is if we can either get that helmet back or neutralize him,” he said.
“To do that,” said Hugh, “we need to get into the cathedral. And like I said, with that wasteland—”
“They’ll see us coming,” said Adrian. “But I know another way in.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
A SILENCE DESCENDED on the cathedral tower, almost as loud in Nova’s ears as the bells had been before. Her rebellion echoed among the bronze and timber, that single, simple proclamation.
No.
Ace, his arms still outstretched from his grand speech, slowly turned toward her. It felt different now to see him with the helmet on, his strength and vitality so quickly restored, after years of watching his body deteriorate day after day.
She’d always assumed the change would be for the better, but now, seeing the unfamiliar coldness in his gaze, she felt a shiver of apprehension down her spine.
“Little Nightmare?”
Nova stepped forward from the group. “I share your beliefs, Uncle, and your conviction. But I disagree with the path you would put us on to achieve our goals. I know that for years we’ve been talking about destroying the Renegades. I understand that you believe we can only establish a society that works if we first dismantle the society that operates under our enemies. But you’re wrong. We don’t need to fight. We don’t need to destroy. We need to leave.”
Ace’s expression tightened, but Nova plowed ahead.
She had to make them understand.
“We don’t have to stay in Gatlon. There’s nothing keeping us here. Let the Renegades have their city. We can go somewhere else. Establish our own community, under our own rules, our own principles.” Her nerves thrummed as she spoke, knowing that she did, actually, have something that might keep her here in Gatlon.
But Adrian was only a dream. Had only ever been a dream. Someday, he would know the truth. Someday, everything would fall apart.
Better that day was today.
“The Renegades are no longer relegated to Gatlon City,” said Phobia, his voice dry and annoyed, as if this should have been obvious. “Their influence has spread across the world. They have syndicates in nearly every country.”
“In the major metropolises, yes,” said Nova. “I’m not suggesting we trade one city for another. That would just lead to the same conflicts we’ve faced here. I’m saying we start fresh. Find a place that’s entirely our own.” She inspected the faces that were watching her with surprise—some tinted by curiosity, others a faint hint of suspicion. “We are prodigies, and with Ace Anarchy leading us…” She faced her uncle. “We can build the society we’ve dreamed of. Literally build it from the ground up. Look what you did here. In a matter of minutes you turned a pile of rubble into this.” She gestured at the bell tower around them. “We could walk out into any wilderness and transform it into the home we deserve.”
Ace watched her, calculating. But the fact that he hadn’t silenced her gave her courage.
“Look,” she said, more emphatically now as she moved to stand in the center of the room, on the old wooden floorboards beneath the central bells. They amplified her voice as she spoke. “We talk a lot about personal responsibility. Maybe it’s time we took responsibility for our role in what this city has become. I don’t like the way the Renegades are running things, but as Ace just reminded us, things weren’t great when we were in charge, either. We helped make a mess of this city, and despite all their failings, I … I’m convinced that the Renegades really are trying to make things better. We may not agree with their methods, but this is the way the world is now. If we don’t like it, then maybe instead of trying to tear it down, we should lead by example. Build something new, something better. If we form a community outside of the Renegades’ control, show how we are capable of governing ourselves for a change, then … maybe that’s how we change this world. And if it doesn’t change the world, then who cares? Maybe this isn’t our problem to solve. At least the war will be over.”
Honey spoke first, her voice ireful and her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “This is that boy talking, isn’t it? I knew it. He’s brainwashed you.”
“I’m not brainwashed!” said Nova, heat flaring across her cheeks.
“You want to run away,” Honey snapped back. “You want to give up. Now, when we might actually have a chance of beating them!”
“I’m saying that maybe we don’t have to beat them. That’s the problem, isn’t it? It’s always us and them. Heroes or villains. Prodigies or civilians. The powerful and the powerless. I’m saying that I want a chance at a better life. For all of us, and anyone who wants to follow us. I want a life where we aren’t the villains anymore!” Her voice rose, with determination, but also with fear that they wouldn’t understand. “We can go anywhere. Be free anywhere. Why settle for this?”
Finally, a flicker of emotion in Ace’s eyes, still shadowed by the structure of the helmet.
It wasn’t understanding, though. If anything, he seemed hurt.
“Settle?” he said. “Settle, for Gatlon?” He moved toward her. “This is our city. Our home. I will not settle for anything less. I will not cower before the enemies who stole it from me.”
Nova’s shoulders sank. She shook her head. “We wouldn’t be—”
“Enough.”
She reared back, the harshness of his voice like a blow.
“If we are the villains to their heroes, so be it. We will give them reason enough to fear us.” He paced around the tower, somehow regal in his stolen double-breasted coat. “We will not run. We will not hide. We will stay and fight. And this time, we will win. This city will be ours!”
A roar of approval rang through the tower.
Nova shuddered. As the others pressed forward, she felt almost invisible. Her tongue had become gummy in her mouth.
She had been so confident that, once Ace was free, the others would agree with her. Leaving made sense. She had expected relief—that they could have their freedom without sacrificing more lives, without another battle.
Had she not been compelling enough? Had she not conveyed the power of her ideas?
How was it possible, with the world now open to them, that they would rather stay here and fight?
“We were not prepared when the Renegades surrounded us at the Battle for Gatlon ten years ago,” said Ace, approaching one of the open windows. “We will not make the same mistakes again.”
He lifted his hands, fingers outstretched toward the horizon. The wasteland beyond the cathedral stretched for acres in each direction, enclosed within a puny chain-link fence. A ring of torn-up pavement, the debris of crumbled buildings, crushed and overturned cars.
Those ruins began to tremble.
The others moved forward, gathering behind Ace.
Nova was still trying to form her thoughts into words, still thinking of how she could persuade Ace and the others to choose differently, when bits of debris began to rise anew from the wasteland. Plywood and unhinged doors. Metal sheeting and steel beams. The side torn from a bus, still papered with a faded advertisement. Bricks and stonework, appliances and roof shingles, broken glass, rebar and copper pipes, old street signs and a plastic slide from a child’s playground, ladders and porcelain bathtubs and traffic lights …
Countless bits of raw materials emerging from the wreckage. They began to fuse together at the edge of the wasteland. Bit by bit. Piece by piece.
Ace was building a wall.
Nova walked away from the others, to the opposite side of the tower. Here, too, the mess of materials was interlocking. Unlike the shimmering, near-transparent barricade that Adrian had used to protect himself at the arena, this wall was as thick and impenetrable as it was dark and unruly. It surrounded the cathedral in every direction, growing higher and higher, until it eclipsed even the great bell tower where they stood. Higher still, until it towered over the cathedral’s sharply pitched roof. Higher still, until the jumbled structure arced inward, knitting together overhead. It blocked out the city below. Blocked out the sky.
When Ace was finished, they were trapped beneath a dome of sharp edges and rust.
It felt like being in the tunnels again.
It felt like the opposite of freedom.
“There,” said Ace. “That will slow them down.”
Nova gulped, thinking of all the Renegades she’d come to know. Could Adrian get past this wall? Could the Sentinel?
What about Max, with his telekinesis and the ability to manipulate metals?
Or Captain Chromium, with his unbreakable weapons?
She gnawed at her lower lip, remembering how many of the Renegades were no longer prodigies. Their powers had been drained from them.
Like they would have done to you, she remembered.
It did not diminish the sour taste in her mouth.
“Still, it will not hold them forever.”
Ace peered around at their group, fierce and hungry. “You have fought valiantly tonight, but we must prepare for the next battle.” He focused on Leroy and Honey. “You were able to use the Agent N substance to great effect. Do we have any left?”
Leroy shook his head. “What we took from the Renegades’ storehouse is almost entirely used up. We have only a few of the gas-release devices Nova designed, and less than half a container of the liquid.”
“Good enough,” said Ace. “With any luck, we will finally be able to determine that age-old mystery … is Captain Chromium truly as invincible as he seems?” Grinning wickedly, he swept an arm around the room. “Fellow Anarchists, find accommodations and rest until further notice. I would like a moment alone with my niece.”
Nova tensed. A few of the villains cast her looks that were gloating and smug. Others seemed nervous on her behalf. Leroy smiled comfortingly and winked, the movement awkwardly drawing up the paralyzed left side of his face.
Nova smiled back.
It was only Ace.
Within a matter of minutes, the bell tower had emptied out, the drum of footsteps on the lower staircase growing more distant by the second.
Only one of the villains lingered behind. To Nova’s surprise, it was Narcissa, her expression full of concern. Though she had taken a leadership role among the Rejects before, she had been loitering at the back of the group since they’d arrived at the cathedral. Her fear in the face of Ace Anarchy was palpable, and the look she was giving Nova suggested a hesitation to leave her alone with him. There was something almost kind in her expression. Something almost protective.
Nova’s spirits lifted, just barely, to think that perhaps the mirror walker no longer hated her.
“Is there something you would like to say, Mirror Walker?” Ace asked.
Narcissa opened her mouth, but hesitated. Her voice trembled when she finally spoke. “I agree with Nightmare,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I think we should leave Gatlon.”
Ace studied her, and Narcissa slowly shrank under the look.
“There is a mirror in the chapter house,” Ace said. “I do not keep prisoners. You are free to go as you please.”
Narcissa gulped.
“But if you stay, I will expect your cooperation in our efforts to destroy our enemies. I will not tolerate betrayal.”
She paled. Her gaze clashed once more with Nova’s, briefly, before she, too, disappeared down the ladder.
The wooden door clapped shut behind her. The air inside the belfry became uncannily still, with no breeze from the outside world able to make it through Ace’s barrier. The tower smelled of old iron and the dirt that had been stirred up after so long.
Nova waited for Ace to speak. Already she missed being able to read his expressions. The wrinkles of his cheeks. The furrow of his brow. He felt more closed off from her now than he had the whole time he’d been hiding in the catacombs, and she was surprised to find that she already missed the man she had come to know—even if that man had been shattered and weak. At least she had never been afraid of him, but now, she couldn’t keep herself from feeling a jolt of apprehension as he fixed his attention on her.
“I cannot fault you for wanting more than the life I’ve been able to give you,” he said. “I cannot even fault you for being drawn to the lies that the Renegades have tried to sell to the world. It is a beautiful story they tell, one of righteousness and courage and justice. But it is only a story.” Ace put his hands on a windowsill, though there was nothing to see now but their own dark cage, rough and pieced together from the unwanted remains of a long-ago war. “Your father had a faith in the Renegades that I could never understand. I offered to protect you and your family. I would have had my companions guarding your apartment day and night. But he didn’t want my help. He insisted that the Renegades would protect you. I thought he was foolish, but it was not my place to interfere. David wanted to make his own choices, to find his own path through those dark times.” His head lowered. “It is my greatest regret to this day. I wish I had been there for you. For David. For your mother and sister.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” whispered Nova.
It was the Roaches and the assassin they hired.
It was the Renegades and their false promises.
She shut her eyes and the memory was there, as painful as it had ever been. Gunshots ricocheting in her skull. Blood splattered on their front door. Evie’s cries, silenced forever.
“But, Ace,” she whispered, feeling like her heart was being ripped into pieces, “is this really the way to avenge them? All these years, it’s all I’ve wanted, to see the Renegades brought to their knees after they failed us. But … this hatred, it’s destroying us, too. It’s destroying me. Is this what my parents would have wanted?”
Ace’s features filled with remorse. “It isn’t about vengeance, little Nightmare. We cannot bring them back, but we can honor their deaths by preventing the same tragedy from happening to other families. We can keep the Renegades from spreading their falsehoods any longer. We can show the world who they really are. Not heroes, but false idols. Impostors. Liars.”
Nova moved closer to Ace. “They’re not all bad,” she insisted. “They’re not all good, either, but … I believe now that most of them want to help the people of this world, even if they’re confused on how to do it. They’re not just the power-hungry bullies we’ve thought. They’re not all liars.”
“Like Adrian Everhart?”
She froze.
To her surprise, Ace reached for his helmet and lifted it from his head. Setting it on the sill, he turned toward Nova. He did not seem angry. If anything, there was compassion scrawled across his features. “He lied to you, too. I think you know that now.”
