Page 79 of No Capes
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
“Get her some water,” Arielle shouts to Fox. In the seconds he’s gone, Arielle wraps me in a hug.
“We have one day,” she whispers, “to come up with a plan and practice your powers. Got it?”
I nod. “I need to find Dark Static.”
Fox rushes back, carrying a full bottle of water, which apparently his basement refrigerator doesn’t stock. I gulp it down. It almost doesn’t settle me, evaporating as soon as I swallow it, but a few drops stick in my system, and I can think again.
I take Arielle’s hand. “Let’s go.”
~
The best way to find Dark Static is to put myself in danger, which is a plan that should come with a “don’t try this at home” label. The best way to put myself in danger? Leave the house.
Arielle is covering for me. While she distracts the Levines—plus Damian—with embarrassing stories about me as a child, I squeeze out the basement window, landing in the yard. I duck and sprint to the front lawn. To anyone watching, I might look like a turkey trying out for the track team. For that reason and several others, hopefully no one is.
Three…Two… One.
Nothing. D.S. doesn’t show up.
Uh oh.Chilly November air pelts my skin. Darn,I should have brought a—
“Jacket?” Dark Static’s teasing tone interrupts me. He waits about five feet away, holding a sleek navy windbreaker that I’ve never seen before.Is it his?I accept the jacket—perfect fit.Where did he get this?Does he have a family he borrows clothes from?
In the middle of the afternoon, he’s still dressed in bulletproof black spandex and seems considerably less threatening. Not that I dare underestimate his royal static-ness.
“Why the hell did you wreck all the food?” I yell in a whisper.
“I didn’t.” He holds up his hands where I can see them. “I moved it and then burned the warehouses. Phil wants everyone to think food is scarce, but I would never destroy it.”
I’m not sure if I believe him, but I don’t have a choice.
“I need to go somewhere that’s not Fox’s house or out in the open.”
D.S. hesitates. “Won’t the Levines notice you’re gone?”
“Arielle’s covering for me.” I have total faith in her—I’ve heard Arielle make small talk about hail for an entire afternoon. And if she ran out of embarrassing stories about me, she would never hesitate to make some up.
“Alrighty, I have just the place.” D.S. puts on his gloves, their wispy edges fading into the daylight. Almost as an afterthought, he asks, “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
“What do you mean? We can’t portal?”
“Not to where we’re going,” he says. “And flying is way more fun.”
I study the cloudless sky. “Isn’t that a little, I don’t know,visibleto whoever looks up?”
“No one looks up anymore, Roberts. Everyone’s occupied with staring at a screen or something. You’ll see. Any chance you have your own flight abilities, or will you require a piggyback ride?”
“Not about to test that out without a parachute.”
“Smart.” He turns his back to me. “So, this is incredibly dangerous and there’s a high probability we’ll both die.”
“Hold on tight. Got it.”
He chuckles and I roll my eyes. It’s frustrating that Dark Static and Golden Ace can both fly, but I can’t—as far as I know.
In comic books like the X-Men series, the Avengers, and the Justice League, male Supers usually get more physical-type powers: strength, speed, spiderwebs, etc. The women get more mental-type powers: telepathy, shielding, or hexes. They’re sexist stereotypes. For the real-life Supers in Capital City, it’s hard to know if “typical” exists, because so little is known about their identities. Mostly, I’m annoyed that Dark Static can do something I can’t.
