ã€ŠThe Marked Heroesã€‹


 ONE

    ONE

    ¡°You¡¯re late. Fourth time this week,¡± said Ms. Park, her hand rapping the surface of her desk. Her eyes were wide with annoyance; her nostrils flared. Wilted flowers twitched inside their unattractive vase. A faded petal broke from one of the plants and fell to the desk.

    At least it¡¯s not Thursday¡­

    Yeah, well, trying to get six underage teenagers with no adult supervision out the front door in the morning ¨C on time, for crying out loud ¨C was a feat not even the most organized of ¡®Super Moms¡¯ could achieve, let alone a sixteen year old boy.

    Surely one could imagine the chaos that ensued during such morning routines with oneteen ¨C never mind sixteenagers of different ages and stages of puberty. That was a nightmare.

    And that¡¯s what Zachary Bennet dealt with on a daily basis.

    Ms. Park couldn¡¯t really blame them, but she did; the look in the woman¡¯s eyes said it all. That glare the principal sent to the six teens was enough to make each of them squirm in their hard, wooden seats. Zach took a deep breath, steadying himself.

    Time for some damage control.

    ¡°We apologize, Ms. Park,¡± said Zach, keeping his tone respectful. He glanced at his friends, who were wearing different levels of respect and politeness on their faces. Except one: the youngest girl was not so much polite as she was downright hostile. ¡°We¡¯ll do better next week, right, guys?¡± he asked, looking at each of them with a hint of pleading in his eyes.

    Oh, yes, blessed day that it was a Friday.

    There were a handful of polite replies, while there was one irritated reply. Zach gave her a stern look; her next response wasn¡¯t much better. He sent a nervous, apologetic smile to the principal, hoping to appease the woman.

    It wasn¡¯t effective.

    Ms. Park leaned forward onto the desk, her fingers pressing together as she gazed over them. The light there was dark. Zach straightened his back and met her gaze, refusing to be intimidated.

    We are more than you think we are. We are better than you say we are.

    ¡°I realize that your priorities lie¡­ elsewhere¡ª¡± Zach stiffened, his eyes narrowing a fraction. He resisted raising an irritated eyebrow. ¡°¡ªbut this school takes pride in the accomplishments of its hard working students, who take learning seriously. Being tardy four school days out of fiveis undermining all of their hard work!¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am, we understand,¡± said Zach. The more polite we are, the faster we¡¯ll get out of this office. His jaw clenched. ¡°We¡¯ll do better.¡±

    Brielle let out a disgusted huff and slid down in her seat, her neck resting against the back of the chair. Blonde bangs blended with her short black hair, draping over her forehead and hiding her eyes from Zach.

    ¡°Not like anyone cares if we learn anything,¡± muttered Brielle, folding her arms with an air of defiant petulance. Zach winced and sent her another stern glance, just for show. His heart clenched at the truth. The thirteen year old dutifully ignored him.

    ¡°Only you can decide that, Miss Durante,¡± said Ms. Park, her tone cold. Another petal fell onto the desk. Both petals were brushed aside into a waste basket with a dismissive motion. ¡°I suggest you put more effort into your studies, despite your current occupation and limitations. You¡¯re dismissed. This is your last warning, understand? Do notbe tardy again.¡±

    Can this day end already?

    It was not starting out well ¨C nope, not at all.

    With that, Ms. Park turned her attention away. Zach stood up, more than ready to leave. Together, the six friends left the grey office. With a fierce expression, Brielle attempted to slam the door to the principal¡¯s office closed behind them, but Zach grabbed her arm. She glared at him as he shut the door without a sound. She jerked away, folding her arms and staring down the empty hallway. The six of them lingered there, their backpacks swung over their shoulders.

    Zach looked at his friends. Each kept their heads lowered with grim reluctance on their faces. He sighed. Getting through the school day was always hard, but being late for so many days¡­ They were going to get a lot of flak from the other students. The hours were going to ache along at a snail¡¯s pace.

    ¡°Today¡¯s a new day, okay?¡± said Zach, giving them a smile.

    Brielle rolled her amber eyes, frowning. ¡°So is tomorrow, but that doesn¡¯t make today any better,¡± she said, sighing as her stance softened, the hostility easing from her body.

    ¡°Iftomorrow comes at all,¡± said Sevati with an impassive face, yet there was a twinkle in her brown eyes. She stroked the long, dark brown braid that flowed over her chest. These words gained a squeak of fright from the youngest of the group.

    ¡°N¨Cnothing bad is going to happen, is it?¡± asked Jacob; his nearly black eyes were wide behind rectangle glasses. There was a chuckle and the eldest, Drake, ruffled the curly black hair of Jacob.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, Sev¡¯s just rattling your cage.¡± There was a pregnant pause. ¡°Again.¡±

    Sevati averted her eyes, rolling them to the side. While it was faint, there was the unmistakable sign of mischief tugging at her lips. Brielle¡¯s foul mood lifted. Jacob didn¡¯t seem to get it, but he sighed in relief.

    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t stay in the hallway any more,¡± said Hikaru, her voice soft as she glanced back and forth briefly for any straggling students or teachers. There weren¡¯t any. ¡°We should get to class and avoid more trouble.¡±

    No one moved. They glanced between each other, the reluctance still in their eyes. There was a moment of silence.

    Drake let out an exasperated sigh. ¡°Fine, we better go,¡± he said grudgingly. ¡°I hope something comes up today during school. I¡¯ll take anything at this rate. I¡¯ve got an algebra test that I¡¯d rather skip.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°What¡¯re the chances we¡¯re called out during your algebra class?¡± asked Sevati, giving the older boy a flat, yet pointed look.

    Drake ran a hand through his spiky blond hair. The light in his hazel green eyes darkened and he said, ¡°Zero to none.¡± He groaned. ¡°Man, I hate math.¡±

    He gave the others a dramatic wave of the hand, acting as if he were going to the gallows. He turned to walk down the hallway with Sevati following at his side. Sevati, while being a sophomore and two years below Drake, had classes in the same section of the school as the seniors. The two of them were out of sight after a minute.

    ¡°Will you two be all right?¡± asked Zach, looking back at the youngest of the group.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, we¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Brielle, waving a hand dismissively.

    ¡°Do you need us to walk you¡ª¡±

    ¡°We¡¯refine, Mother Hen,¡± drawled Brielle, shaking her head in annoyance. She grabbed Jacob by the arm and began to pull him down the other hallway. ¡°Come on, squirt.¡± The younger boy protested quietly along the way, pushing his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose.

    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not a squirt.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, ya are.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m only a year younger than you!¡±

    ¡°Still a squirt.¡±

    There were a few giggles from Hikaru, her hand covering her mouth to muffle the sounds. Zach smiled, thankful that the middle school was combined with the high school. ¡°Stay out of trouble,¡± he called to them, as they turned the corner. Brielle rolled her eyes; Jacob gave a tentative smile.

    It was much quieter now. Despite being around the same age and in the same grade, Hikaru had a different class schedule than Zach, leaving them with only two classes with each other.

    ¡°Well, we better get going, too,¡± said Hikaru, turning to walk down a third hallway. She motioned with her head, a mischievous smile lifting her lips. ¡°I¡¯ll be your escort, Mother Hen.¡±

    Zach chuckled. He hefted his backpack a little higher and quickened his steps to walk alongside her. ¡°You know I¡¯m not a mother hen,¡± he said, giving her a nudge with his shoulder.

    Hikaru laughed softly and brushed a hand through some of her long black hair, moving it out of her dark brown eyes. ¡°Well, if you weren¡¯t, we¡¯d never get to school on time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not doing a very good job, then, am I? Seeing as we were late¡ª¡± Zach drew his voice up as high as he could and imitated the principal. ¡°¡ªfour times this week.¡±

    Hikaru laughed again, the light touch of her Japanese accent barely lilting her voice. She shook her head and gave him a playful, stern look.

    ¡°Be more serious about this.¡±

    ¡°About what? School?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that,¡± said Hikaru, returning his nudge with a light one of her own. ¡°You do need to be more serious about school. It¡¯s important for our futures.¡±

    Zach¡¯s mood lessened and his steps halted. Hikaru stopped as well, turning around to face him. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts and she didn¡¯t say anything as she waited.

    ¡°Is it really?¡± asked Zach, his voice low. He shook his head. ¡°I just don¡¯t see how. Now¡ª¡± He put up a hand for emphasis. ¡°¡ªI¡¯m not discounting it; we shouldhave schooling, but we¡¯re not going to have a better chance in life just because we have an education. They¡¯ve made that more than clear to us on multiple occasions. They¡¯ve done all they can to ostracize us. So, why bother with the system? Nothing we do will change what we are nor will it change how they see us.¡±

    Hikaru gave him a pensive expression, her dark eyes losing some of the sparkle always held there. After a moment, she answered, her voice low and gentle, ¡°It is better to be prepared and the opportunity never come, than it is to be ill prepared and miss the opportunity of a lifetime.¡±

    Zach sighed and ran a hand through his bright auburn hair. His mouth lifted somewhat in a tired smile. ¡°Did you get that out of a book?¡± he asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°That sounded way too philosophical ¨C had to be from a book.¡±

    There was a soft laugh. ¡°No, I made it up myself,¡± Hikaru said, smiling wryly. Her expression grew serious, the amusement fading from her soft gaze. ¡°But really, Zach, there¡¯s always a chance things will get better. The world can¡¯t stay cruel forever.¡±

    ¡°If you say so.¡±

    ¡°I do say so.¡±

    He snorted and the two resumed walking. In a few moments, they reached their classrooms, which were next to each other this period. Zach didn¡¯t feel prepared for the separation.

    Things changing for the better?Zach wasn¡¯t naturally a pessimist, but when the government itself was entrenched with cruel policies that locked their futures for its own designs and purposes ¨C well, he wasn¡¯t about to hold his breath.

    Change could take decades.

    ¡°Pay attention in class,¡± said Hikaru, her hand on the handle, her dark brown eyes alight with her smile.

    ¡°Yes,Mother,¡± drawled Zach.

    ¡°Oh, but I¡¯mnot the mother, youare,¡± retorted Hikaru, playfully pointing a finger at him. She gave him a wink and a last smile, before she entered her classroom.

    Zach¡¯s face fell. He wished they had more time together during school. The emptiness permeated the air. He glanced down at the floor, his lips thinning. It would¡¯ve been better if they had home instruction, but that was against regulation. Of course, it was. After all, the government wasn¡¯t going to spend extra money on a bunch of dangerous orphans.

    United, they could withstand the whisperers.

    Divided, they were weak and isolated.

    With a tired sigh, Zach straightened. He took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself. He stepped forward, turned the door handle, and entered his classroom.

    ¡°Mr. Bennet, so nice of you to join us,¡± said the teacher. She folded her arms, her eyebrows furrowing in displeasure. ¡°What¡¯s your excuse today?¡±

    Zach swallowed. His classmates snickered, their eyes flickering over at him with little subtlety in their expressions.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have one,¡± whispered Zach, his eyes dropping to the ground. The whispers grew louder, comments blending with each insulting slur. ¡°We¡¯ve been to Ms. Park¡¯s office already.¡±

    ¡°Education is a privilege, not a right,¡± said the teacher; her displeased look turned into a resentful glare. ¡°Coming late is disrespectful to all your teachers and your classmates. You waste our time. You should be thankful you have this opportunity to learn. Many would give up everything to have this chance.¡±

    Zach¡¯s face burned. The snickers grew louder. The whisperers stared at him with their unfeeling eyes. He held his breath, counting to ten in his head. He let it out, his body releasing the tension.

    Privilege, not a right?So, it was a privilege to know how to read? Was she dare suggesting that not everyone should have that privilege?

    She was wrong.

    Opportunity? Just what opportunity was this woman alluding to? They would never be allowed to go to college. They would never be allowed to choose a career that they wanted. They would never be allowed to step out of the box that the government had shoved them into.

    Who are you kidding? We¡¯re only here so we don¡¯t embarrass the government with illiteracy.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, we¡¯ll do better,¡± whispered Zach. His jaw clenched.

    No, just bear it. Breathe. Relax. Ignore them.

    ¡°Sit down,¡± said the teacher sharply. She didn¡¯t wait for him, instead resuming her lecture as if he weren¡¯t there. Zach turned. The distance seemed to expand, appearing further away than ever. Eyes stared at him. Smirks and sneers blended with race, color, and gender. Zach focused on a mark on the wall and stepped towards the back. His mind tricked him and, for a moment, it felt as if he would never reach his seat. It only lasted for twenty seconds. He sat down in the corner on the back row. He let out a breath of relief.

    He ignored the incessant whisperers.

    Zach half listened to his teacher. He waited, before discreetly opening his backpack and pulling out a small washcloth. Within the confines of the bag, he wet the cloth with his water bottle, twisting the lid back on afterwards. As class time passed, he quietly scrubbed the black marker from the surface of his desk. Eyes flickered back at him, the snickers never ending.

    His attention waned from the lesson. He wasn¡¯t called out, thankfully. Giving the reason wouldn¡¯t have gained him any sympathy, anyway. Scrubbing his desk didn¡¯t do much ¨C water did little good against permanent marker ¨C but at least the slurs and images were smudged beyond initial recognition.

    The black lines were still branded inside his mind, however.

    It wasn¡¯t even lunchtime when a voice rang through the school, the sounds shrill and cold over the intercom, ¡°Mr. Bennet, please report to the principal¡¯s office immediately.¡±

    Zach slowly closed his eyes, groaning softly. Really?Really??He slid downward in his seat, wanting nothing more than to vanish from sight. Those snickers and whispers inflated once again, faces glancing back at him, the unified, blatant question ghostly written on their countenances with defiling black ink.¡®What had he done?¡¯

    Zach¡¯s thought was different, however: Who did what now?

 TWO

    TWO

    After gaining permission to leave ¨C an annoyed wave of the hand ¨C Zach left the classroom with a tired exhale. Once in the empty hallway, he broke into a run, sprinting all the way to the principal¡¯s office. He slipped as he turned a corner; his sneakers squeaked through the silent hallway. He compensated by using the floor and wall for support, before using the momentum to get back on his feet.

    ¡°I¡¯m here, what¡¯s the problem?¡± Zach gasped out, bursting into the office. Ms. Park gave him an unamused glare. He glanced over at the chairs and held back the groaning sigh that threatened to flow through his body.

    Brielle was sitting in one of the chairs, her arms folded and her body slouched. Jacob sat next to her, his back straight and rigid as he twisted his hands together in his lap. His head was bowed.

    Well, this couldn¡¯t be good.

    ¡°Sit down, Mr. Bennet,¡± said Ms. Park sharply, pointing at a chair.

    Oh, dear¡­ We¡¯re in trouble.

    Yet again.

    Zach sat down in the empty chair next to Jacob. He tried to get a reaction out of the boy, but he wouldn¡¯t look up. Worry snaked around Zach¡¯s heart. He glanced over at Brielle, but she gave him no response.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± asked Zach.

    Ms. Park pursed her lips in irritation. ¡°Miss Durante and Mr. Blythe have been in a fight.¡±

    An incredulous look lifted Zach¡¯s features. That¡¯s what this is all about? You¡¯ve got to be kidding me. ¡°Already?¡± he asked. His lips formed into a tense smile. ¡°It¡¯s not even lunchtime, guys.¡±

    Irritation bloomed through the woman¡¯s expression. Zach winced, wishing he¡¯d kept his mouth shut.

    ¡°This is no joking matter, Mr. Bennet,¡± said Ms. Park, her eyes widening in disapproval. ¡°This is a serious offense and must be treated as such.¡± Zach nodded, trying to look contrite. This seemed to pacify her and she continued, ¡°Fighting, as you know, is not tolerated at this school. Furthermore¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know, but it¡¯s just them,¡± said Zach, interrupting her. She glared at him and he added hurriedly, ¡°I mean, they¡¯re like brother and sister. Couldn¡¯t you let them off with a warning?¡±

    ¡°You misunderstand me, Mr. Bennet,¡± said Ms. Park, her lips thinning as her features pinched together. She¡¯s gonna get wrinkles if she keeps that up¡­ ¡°They weren¡¯t fighting with each other, but with some other students.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Zach twisted in his seat, staring at his two friends. Exasperated annoyance twisted in his chest. The day had already started poorly, for crying out loud. Couldn¡¯t they have avoided the fight? They were going to get kicked out of school at this rate.

    Jacob kept his head down, while Brielle glared viciously at the woman. She trembled, as if she were about to explode at any moment. With a sigh, Zach¡¯s heart softened. He leaned forward and gently touched the edge of Jacob¡¯s chin, lifting the boy¡¯s head up. He sucked in his breath.

    Now I get it. I should¡¯ve known¡­

    The side of Jacob¡¯s lip was swollen with dried blood. His right eye was beginning to close from the swelling. Red blended with his dark skin, a hint of yellow entering the area. The boy was going to have a whopper of a bruised eye in a day or so.

    ¡°Oh, Jacob, how¡¯d this happen?¡± whispered Zach, tilting the boy¡¯s face to the side to survey the damage. The boy¡¯s eyes watered; his lips trembled. But he shrugged and continued to stay silent.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell ya how it happened!¡± snapped Brielle, bolting to her feet. She smashed the side of her fist against the wall; everyone in the room jumped in their seats. The framed pictures on the wall rattled. Her words came out in a low, angry hiss. ¡°They were ganging up on him! He was on the ground¡ª¡± Brielle bit the word out as if she were saying a filthy expletive. ¡°¡ªand they were kicking him like a dog! No one was stopping it.¡±

    A dark, malevolent glare was sent to Ms. Park.

    ¡°None of the teachers seemed to notice,¡± said Brielle, her tone hard. ¡°Even though they were watching. So,¡± she whispered. Her lips thinned. She lifted her chin, her expression challenging. ¡°I stopped it.¡±

    ¡°Miss Durante, you¡¯re already in enough trouble as it is,¡± said Ms. Park, unaffected. ¡°Do not add violence against school property to the list.¡± The woman pointed at the chair. ¡°Now, sit down.¡±

    Brielle didn¡¯t obey at first, her stance reeking of defiance. Her chest heaved, the anger blazing. She sat back down in her chair with a huff and crossed her arms, a scowl perpetually on her face.

    This wasn¡¯t going to end well; precedence had ingrained this into Zach. He¡¯d been forced to accept this unfair fact of their lives. Avoiding trouble was the way he¡¯d learned to cope with this situation.

    No back talking, no fighting, no retaliation against others ¨C no matter how much he or his friends were in the right ¨C doing this meant no trouble with adults. No trouble with adults meant safety and security.

    However, Brielle was young and had a thing for justice.

    Zach liked that part in the young girl.

    But this wasn¡¯t a justice system ¨C and even then the odds were stacked against them. This was school, the most unfair institution in the world. Because the fight involved one of them, they would be at fault. It was automatic; it was the default. None of the teachers would punish the instigators. Because of who they were, they had no choice but to take the blame.

    And it was everything but fair.

    ¡°You punching that boy was uncalled for, Miss Durante,¡± said Ms. Park. Her tone was unforgiving. ¡°You will serve detention all next week. You are extremely lucky that I¡¯m not suspending you for this. If¡­¡± The woman hesitated, as if looking for the right word to describe their profession. ¡°¡­other things get in the way, then you will make up the time. You should be thankful for my leniency. Do I make myself clear?¡±

    Brielle looked away, her chest rising. She nodded a fraction of an inch. Jacob gnawed on the other side of his lower lip, like a dog with a chew toy. His eyes watered with unshed tears.

    Oh, Jacob. I¡¯m so sorry. I wish I could fix it.

    We¡¯ll get through this. It¡¯s Friday ¨C no more dealing with this crap until Monday. Even though it¡¯s not even lunch and we¡¯re still getting into more trouble¡­Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Not that everyday isn¡¯t like this.

    The weekends were never long enough.

    ¡°And what about the jerk?¡± demanded Brielle, her head whipping back up. Her amber eyes flared. ¡°You gonna let the guy who was beating on Jacob go free? As if we haven¡¯t noticed that he¡¯s not here!¡±

    ¡°Brielle!¡± hissed Zach.

    ¡°Miss Durante! You¡¯re not to take that tone with me!¡± shouted Ms. Park, her chest puffing up as she sat straighter in her seat. ¡°How d¡ª¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s true!¡± cried Brielle; the betrayal bled through her tone. ¡°He was the one who was beating Jacob up. Why am Iin trouble for trying to defend my family?¡±

    Ms. Park drew in a deep breath, her fingers reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. She lowered her hand; there was no sympathy in her expression.

    ¡°Mr. Clifton¡¯s punishment is none of your concern. You should only take in consideration your own actions.¡± She motioned to Jacob. ¡°I¡¯m letting Mr. Blythe off with a warning. You¡¯re dismissed and if I see any of you in my office again today, you can expect suspension.¡±

    He didn¡¯t even do anything. Thank you for your magnanimous compassion.

    Jacob lowered his head, his hands twisting more in his lap. His dark eyebrows furrowed with worry. Brielle trembled in outrage, her lips thinned to a near invisible line. Just as she opened her mouth to retort, Zach overrode her, his voice cold, ¡°Brielle, be silent.¡±

    Her gaze whipped to the side. Zach shook his head. A wounded glimmer of light flickered in her eyes, before she dropped her head. Her fists clenched at her sides. The air slipped out of Zach¡¯s chest. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

    It was easier to nod and take the blame for things, than to argue for their justice. It was easier to keep their heads down. It was easier this way. They were branded as troublemakers and everyone wanted to scorn them. Nothing would change their views.

    He gritted his teeth; he clenched a fist.

    Zach stood up, the chair scraping against the floor. ¡°We¡¯re sorry for the trouble we¡¯ve caused, Ms. Park,¡± he said, nodding politely at her. She didn¡¯t acknowledge him nor look up from her computer.

    Zach put a hand onto Jacob¡¯s shoulder. The boy¡¯s chair creaked softly as he stood up. Brielle was the loudest of the three of them, shoving her chair back and bolting to her feet. She whirled around and huffed out of the room. Zach silently closed the door behind himself and walked through the hallway with the other two.

    ¡°Are you in pain?¡± asked Zach, after they put some distance between themselves and the principal¡¯s office. Jacob shook his head, keeping his gaze on the floor. They stopped.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡ªnot¡ªfair!¡± cried Brielle, each kick punctuating with her words as she vented her frustrations on the nearest locker. The clangof her kicks rang clear through the hallway. Zach didn¡¯t stop her.

    Better the locker than someone¡¯s knees.

    ¡°I know,¡± said Zach, his voice low.

    The girl glared up at him, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. ¡°It¡¯s still not fair!¡± Brielle shouted. She tucked her lower lip in her mouth and bit down, her teeth burying deep into her flesh. Her mouth trembled.

    Zach lightly tapped her chin. ¡°Stop, you¡¯ll hurt yourself.¡±

    Brielle whipped her head away. Her teeth disappeared behind her lips. She glared at Jacob. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you fight back?¡± she demanded. ¡°You could¡¯ve beaten the crap out of those jerks! Why didn¡¯t you fight?! Why did you just lay there and take it?¡±

    Jacob flinched. He looked between the two of them, biting his lip nervously. Zach tapped his chin, giving him a pointed look, and the boy stopped. Jacob shrugged and curled his arms around his chest. When Brielle didn¡¯t push him, he sighed.

    ¡°Not supposed to fight,¡± whispered Jacob, his voice gentle.

    Brielle¡¯s face scrunched up. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying I shouldn¡¯t have helped you,¡± she said, her tone filled with betrayal. ¡°Because that¡¯s fighting?¡±

    Jacob shook his head, looking down at the ground. ¡°No.¡± There was a pause. He twisted his hands. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    All the anger drained from Brielle¡¯s body. She crossed her arms and let out a soft huff, before she turned her head to the side. A faint blush graced her cheeks. Zach smiled. Despite her brash nature, Brielle had a good heart. Her embarrassment by a simple ¡®thank you¡¯ was endearing.

    ¡°Whatever. Someone has to make sure you don¡¯t come home with bruises.¡±

    Jacob smiled. Before the girl could stop him, Jacob threw his arms around her in a hug.

    Brielle squeaked. ¡°All right, all right, I get it,¡± she said, pushing against Jacob. He didn¡¯t budge. ¡°Will ya ge¡¯off me!?¡±

    Zach laughed lightly. He drew them both into a hug and lifted them in the air. There were heated protests from Brielle, while Jacob giggled. After a moment, he let them down, but kept an arm around each of their shoulders. Brielle¡¯s lips were lifted in an annoyed pout, but her cheeks were pink and her eyebrows were relaxed.

    ¡°You should get back to class,¡± said Zach, ruffling their hair. Jacob smiled and laughed. Brielle jerked away, acting mortified. ¡°You should clean up a little before you go.¡±

    Jacob nodded, leaning into the side hug for a moment longer. He walked down the hallway towards a bathroom. Brielle shrugged Zach¡¯s arm from off her shoulders. Before she could walk away, he grabbed her by the underarm, holding her back.

    ¡°Thank you, Bri, for trying to protect Jacob,¡± whispered Zach. ¡°That was very nice of you.¡±

    ¡°And look what it got me,¡± said Brielle with a growl, tugging her arm out of his grasp. ¡°A week of detention. I get blamed for punching that jerk, when he doesn¡¯t even get a warning for the crap he pulled. How¡¯s that fair?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not.¡±

    ¡°I always thought adults were supposed to look out for kids,¡± cried Brielle, her hands gesturing wildly. ¡°But they¡¯re scared of us. Just because we¡¯re different. It¡¯s not fair!¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°Why aren¡¯t they protecting us?¡± asked Brielle, her tone dropping. A soft, vulnerable light entered her eyes. ¡°Just because we¡¯re different, does that no longer make us human?¡±

    Zach put a hand on his forehead and let out a low sigh. ¡°Being different doesn¡¯t make us any less human,¡± he whispered. Zach squeezed her shoulder. ¡°You know that.¡±

    Brielle didn¡¯t answer. She pursed her lips together and gave him a sharp nod. She turned away and walked back to her class with her hands shoved into her jean pockets; her shoulders were hunched over.

    Zach rubbed his forehead, pinching the space between his eyebrows. How long ¡®til lunch? With another tired sigh, he went back to his classroom. He sat down in his seat and stared at the board. He refused to look down.

    There was new graffiti on his desk.

    As the day progressed, he couldn¡¯t concentrate, too aware of the eyes that would glance back at him. In between class periods, Zach tried to avoid drawing attention to himself; those eyes never stopped staring at him. Phone notifications whistled, chirped, and chimed as he passed by clusters of students. The laughter wasn¡¯t subtle; the division was apparent.

    Zach clenched his jaw and lifted his chin, slamming his locker shut.

    He hated this. He hated that the students got away with this. They could bully them all they wanted and the teachers would never do a thing to stop it. The teachers weren¡¯t discreet about their enmity towards Zach and his five friends ¨C and the students had latched onto this like leeches.

    It wasn¡¯t long before they knew the truth. A group of six orphans living together under government control; there were twelve other such groups across the country. It didn¡¯t take a rocket scientist to figure out who and whatthey were.

    Even then, the teachers and students had no fears in treating them this way.

    There was some consolation: it was against the law to reveal their identities to others. Though, this was only regulated online. Strict as it was, it didn¡¯t stop the students from gossiping quietly amongst themselves.

    Lunch came. As Zach walked into the cafeteria, he saw Hikaru in the middle of the line. He waved at her and she smiled back, her features tense. The whispers didn¡¯t stop, but the uncomfortable twisting in his stomach faded. After grabbing his lunch, Zach walked through the path of tables, going to the very back of the room. Hikaru, Drake, and Sevati were already seated at the old table.

    As Zach sat down, Brielle and Jacob joined them. The benches creaked with age. The cafeteria buzzed with voices all around them. Black marks marred the surface of the table ¨C as usual. Sevati traced a finger over some of the marks with an impassive expression on her face. Brielle glared at her spot. Zach rubbed his eyes.

    Is this ever going to stop? Aren¡¯t they bored of this yet?

    ¡°Lift your trays,¡± said Hikaru with an air of someone prepared. She motioned with a hand while she pulled something out of her backpack. As they followed her instructions, she placed a red tablecloth over the surface, obscuring the individualized graffiti.

    A brooding silence fell over the group. The food tasted like sawdust in Zach¡¯s mouth. Once, he tried to say something ¨C anything to encourage them ¨C but the crestfallen faces killed the words in his throat. Hikaru tended to Jacob¡¯s face with a first aid kit that she always carried in her backpack.

    How am I supposed to be a leader, when I can¡¯t say anything to cheer them up? I can¡¯t even give them any hope. I have nothing.

    So much for the ¡®new¡¯ day.

    But just a few more hours and it¡¯ll be over.

    They separated to their next classes without a word. It was during the next to final period when something inside Zach¡¯s pocket buzzed silently. He pulled the cheap phone out of his jean pocket.

    Unit Twelve, assemble.

 THREE

    THREE

    Dread mixed with relief.

    Zach drew in a long steadying breath. From one devil to another. While Drake had been hoping for this, he''d much rather have gone home after school. He exhaled, strength and determination rising in his heart. He raised his hand, standing up from his chair. He slipped the phone into his pocket.

    "I need to go to the principal''s office, sir," said Zach. He made a discreet motion, tapping two fingers on his forearm. The teacher nodded, his lips curling in disgust as if he''d been flipped a rude gesture. Zach grabbed his bag and rushed to the door.

    Ungrateful¡ª

    "Hey, Bennet," said a feminine voice, in a mocking, sing song tone.

    Zach paused, his hand gripping the handle. His chest rose. He glanced back. Tiffany Mayfield grinned at him, twirling a strand of her long curly brown hair. She parted her painted lips, her lip gloss glistening. She leaned forward on her desk, her blouse revealing the cleavage of her large breasts. It was obvious she was playing it up, trying to act seductive ¨C as if she wanted him to see what he''d never be able to get.

    Zach was just nauseated by it.

    "Tell my uncle I say hello," said Mayfield, letting out a snide chuckle as she looked at the other classmates. They joined her in laughing. Her current boyfriend, Travis Novak, barked his laughter. She gave Zach a wave with her fingers. "Better not be late, right? He really doesn''t like that."

    More laughter.

    Gritting his teeth, Zach fled the room. He took long strides through the hallway, keeping his chin erect. He avoided all eye contact with any stranglers. He took the same path he''d taken countless times before. He entered an older hallway, one less used, just as Hikaru turned a different corner. She smiled at him, but the usual brilliance in her eyes didn''t shine. Silence was their companion; this was routine. They reached an old, out of use janitorial closet. Zach opened the door. The other four were waiting inside.

    "Hurry and shut the door," said Drake. It closed behind them and the lock clicked into place.

    "Where''s the sheet?" asked Zach, all business. He was supplied with a white sheet, which was hung as a divider within the small room. The girls disappeared behind one side, leaving the three boys on the other side.

    "And you doubted that I''d be saved from my test, Sev," said Drake with an excited grin. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside. "Miracles do happen ¨C I swear, there has to be a God!"

    "You''ll still have to make it up later," said Sevati from the other side of the sheet. Pure smugness oozed from her tone. "Your ''miracle'' has a funny sense of humor. That''s karma for you."

    "Wait, what?" said Drake, pausing as he took off his shoes. He looked up, his eyebrows furrowing. "I have to take it later?"

    "You thought otherwise?" said Sevati, sounding amused.

    "Ugh! Sev, don''t ruin it for me!"

    "And are you sure you should be swearing on your God? Doesn''t sound respectful to me."

    "Oh, shut up."

    "I wasn''t even paying attention in class," said Zach, his mouth twitching in a small grin. "I hope I didn''t miss anything important."

    "You were supposed to pay attention," said Hikaru, the lilt in her voice rising upward.

    Zach chuckled, shaking his head. He glanced over at Jacob, noticing the increasing discoloration around his eye. The boy would need some ice when they got home. He ruffled Jacob''s hair, giving him a smile. He received one in return. Zach tugged his t-shirt off and dug inside his backpack for his black, skin tight shirt.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    The room was crowded with the six of them changing their clothes. The first time they had done this, it''d been awkward for the two genders to dress in the same room. The second time, they had gotten the sheet.

    Now they were a well practiced machine.

    "Well, I, for one, would''ve rather have stayed in class," said Hikaru, her voice taking on a lofty tone. "If we keep missing, we''re going to start failing our classes."

    "Only you care about failing," said Brielle, sounding bitter.

    "I care about grades, too, you know," commented Sevati dryly.

    "Grades are important if we want to¡ª"

    "Look, we all know there''s nothing more we''re gonna do with our lives," snapped Brielle. "This is it. So, just stop pretending like school will do us any favors. Good grades are useless to us. We''re not normal."

    The small room fell in silence. Zach didn''t have an answer nor any words of comfort. As usual¡­ How can I do more for them? I don''t know what to say anymore.

    Helpless.

    His voice was locked.

    Brielle was right. More than likely, they would be doing this for the rest of their lives ¨C if they even managed to live past the age of twenty. They would probably always have to change in a closet ¨C as if they were criminals, as if they were something to be ashamed of, as if they were something to hide. It wasn''t like they could get a real job.

    Powers were considered dangerous, after all.

    Thus, being employed by the government was the only way to survive. Not like we have a choice. Though, a better description for ''employed'' would''ve been contained and controlled. Unfortunately, it didn''t pay well. Why would it? There wasn''t any competition. There wasn''t anyone to argue the fact. There wasn''t anyone to advocate for them.

    They were orphans. They had powerful gifts. They were abnormal.

    They were different.

    Zach slipped the black mask over his face. It completely encased the back of his head ¨C hiding his bright auburn hair ¨C along with half of his face, only revealing his two crystal blue eyes. All six of them had the same mask to hide their identity. Because Hikaru and Sevati had long hair, they took the time to wrap it into buns. The back of the mask kept the hair in place and hidden from sight.

    Eight minutes was all it took for them to dress.

    They tended to wear the black pants of their suit underneath their normal clothes, but it wasn''t as simple with the long sleeved shirt. Each suit was exactly the same. The material for the suit had been designed specifically for them. It was bulletproof, but at close range it could still do damage. From an observer, it appeared seamless. The only visible skin on all of them were their mouths and noses; the rest was covered in the material.

    Their uniforms were completely black, with no color, save for the blazon red number residing on each of their backs, which told their unit number and rank. Finally, there was a red badge that authenticated their unit status, which was stamped at the center of their chest.

    They weren''t a selection of people working together as a team for a common cause. No, they were a unit, a set, a collection, required to follow and obey orders without question. They were numbered. They had no special names. Even though they worked like a team, they couldn''t be called as such, because it wasn''t ''protocol.''

    They were Unit Twelve.

    12:1 ¨C that was Zach''s number. He was the leader. That was why he was called One.

    But he hated it. He hated what it meant; he hated what it stood for; he hated everything about it.

    But he had no choice but to bear that number.

    For three years, they had been drilled with this concept: they were nothing more than a number. For three years, they had been trained to be a powerful force to be reckoned with ¨C at such young ages, too. For three years, they weren''t allowed to be children. For three years, they had no choice in what they wanted to do or be.

    They weren''t supposed to be friends. That was against the ''rules.''

    When thirteen year old Zach had been put in charge of five others ¨C youngest age nine, eldest age fourteen ¨C this mentality hadn''t been as ingrained into their minds. Perhaps, they were flawed in comparison to the other units.

    In the end, they hadn''t cared.

    They were a family; they were more than a team. They''d had no one else. There were no adults to take care of them. There were no parents. Once their training had been completed, they had been left with a thirteen year old to lead them, to oversee them both in the field and at home.

    No one mentioned that children needed more than a leader. No one mentioned that they needed more than instructions and rules. They needed a parent, someone who loved and cared for them. No one taught Zach how to be a parent, but he tried his best anyway ¨C they all did. No one helped any of them, so they helped each other. Once their unit became functional, they were nothing more than a unit.

    They were just ''heroes'' hired and trained by the government. It seemed like a high position, yet it was the lowest one of all. Their powers were ''gifts'' to the world; thus, this was the only way they could contribute to society.

    Well, that was what they were told.

    The truth was a different answer.

    Branded with a number, our freedom stolen¡­

    Zach slipped his black gloves over his hands. With a determined nod, he took a deep breath. "Time to go," he said, opening the door and leading the way.

    Let''s do this.

 FOUR

    FOUR

    "You did a nice job," said Drake from the front passenger seat, as he looked at the interior of their van. He played with the pristine screen in the center of the dashboard, flipping through the radio. "You''re getting better at this."

    "Thanks," said Brielle blandly, her elbow on the windowsill with her chin resting in her hand. She was sitting in the back row with the other girls. "Wish we could keep it like this," she added under her breath.

    "I know," said Zach, checking his mirrors. "But you did do a really good job, Bri. You always do. It''s a shame we can''t keep it like this."

    He turned the ignition on and drove the van out of the school parking lot. Once further down the street, he opened the window and stuck the police siren on the top. It flared to life and Zach increased his speed.

    The van was over eighteen years old and should''ve been dumped in a junkyard at least four years ago. Brielle''s powers were all that kept it going in the first place. They took advantage of their missions to make it more comfortable, reverting it back afterwards. Otherwise, someone was bound to notice a high tech interior in an old, dilapidated van.

    It was a risk they couldn''t afford to take.

    Drake was allowed to drive them to school since he was seventeen. Zach and Hikaru had driver''s licenses as well, due to special permission their chief had obtained, but they could only drive during missions. The entire police force knew their identities; there wasn''t any worry about being pulled over.

    It was strange.

    Here they were, driving to the place where a crime was being committed. It wasn''t cool or exciting. They weren''t swinging onto the scene like flashy comic book heroes. They had no quippy remarks or silly puns upon their arrival. There were no fireworks declaring their appearance. They were just driving. It felt lame. None of them could fly; though, Zach had heard about some of the other units containing a member with such a gift.

    But for themselves, they drove.

    Despite the gifts they each held, there was nothing special nor heroic here. There were no tricks. There were no super villains out to take over the world. There were just people committing crimes. As a unit, they were mainly called for bank robberies and the like ¨C something that happened often enough within the large city of Templeton Hills. Sometimes, they were assigned to a kidnapping, but that was rare ¨C none of them had tracking abilities. They weren''t ever used for missing persons or homicides.

    It was disappointing. Zach wished they could do more, be more ¨C they could''ve been true heroes, like the ones he''d always admired in the movies. How sad it was; they didn''t even have enough money to go see a movie. They weren''t treated like the heroes they could''ve been. What did it mean to be a hero anyway? How were they different from anyone else? Was it their powers that made them unique? Was it the antagonists that made them heroes?

    Or was it something more?

    Zach sighed and switched on the police scanner.

    "Unit Twelve reporting for duty," said Zach. Sweat accumulated within his gloves as he gripped the steering wheel. He bore it. He licked his lips, his stomach crawling with an unpleasant feeling. He had delayed too long.

    "About time, One."

    His stomach churned.

    "During school hours, you know, sir," said Zach, attempting to maintain some respect. His efforts fell short.

    "Remember who you''re speaking to, One!" snapped the voice.

    Zach inhaled and clenched his teeth. "Yes, sir," he said softly.

    There was an aggravated huff.

    "There''s been an armed robbery. They haven''t come out of the bank since we''ve surrounded it. They''ve taken hostages and are demanding safe exit. Your job is to rescue the hostages while securing the criminals. Understood?"

    "Yes, sir."

    "Good. Now move it, Unit Twelve. There''s no time to lose!"

    Zach switched the police scanner off, refusing to answer to their title. Silence filled the car. "All right, guys," he whispered. As he said before every mission, without need: "Remember to say our code names out of sight. No need to ruffle the chief''s feathers about protocol."

    The group murmured their confirmations.

    Go through the motions.

    It''s safe there.

    Despite the rules, despite the labels, Zach refused to be a number. He wouldn''t stand for that. They were more than that, more than mere numbers. A year into being a unit, they had come up with simple nicknames to address each other on a mission. They''d gotten better after that. They had become the team they were never supposed to be.

    All one syllable codenames that identified their gifts.

    Zach kept his name at the others'' insistence. He appreciated why, but if the Chief of Police, Andrew Sullivan, heard the others calling Zach Chief, they would be in enormous trouble ¨C much more than having the codenames in the first place. Zach''s codename was a symbol of open rebellion and would be taken as such. It was a strong possibility their team would be disbanded for such a carnal sin.

    But that was the one and only risk they were willing to take.

    They were human beings ¨C and deserved to be treated as such.

    Unfortunately, such things were wishful thinking.

    They reached the bank in ten minutes; Zach parked the van nearby. The usually busy main street had been blocked with numerous police cars. Zach frowned. Why are there so many? That''s unusual. Some of the officers held back the crowd gathered to get a look at what was happening, while others were trying to calm the people who had family in the bank as hostages.

    Chief Sullivan stood in the center, barking orders at anyone who ran by. At the same time, he was shouting into a cell phone at his ear. His presence among his subordinates was dominant, his height seeming to tower above the rest ¨C though, he wasn''t taller than the average man. He was older, his brown hair greying at the edges.

    Zach''s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter.

    Just bear it. Just get through this. Do the job. Get out. Go home.

    Simple.

    He didn''t get out of the van. The others didn''t move, either. Stalling, Zach turned in his seat to look at them. Jacob was sitting in the middle row by himself with his hands clasped in his lap. In the back, Hikaru was in the middle, while Brielle was on the side closest to the van door. Sevati was boxed in at the other side, looking out her window.

    No one wanted to do this.

    "Are you guys ready?" asked Zach, his voice quiet.

    Brielle shook her head. "Let''s not and say we did," she said, pushing her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. "I wanna go home."

    Best suggestion I''ve heard all day.

    Zach tried to smile, but it was tense and fake. "Come on."

    There were exasperated sighs. Jacob pulled the handle and the side door slid open. The noise of chaos flooded their ears. Zach winced. As they piled out of the car, a heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder. It wasn''t gentle.

    "About time you got here," said a stern voice. Zach turned around. Sullivan stood in front of him. Zach pressed against the wall of the van, keeping his back straight.

    "Sorry, sir," said Zach, holding back the list of excuses and retorts he wanted to say. This man was a no nonsense type. He''d gotten into trouble for retorts before and he had no inclination to repeat those experiences.

    Keep your mouth shut. Don''t piss him off today.

    "Come, all of you. We need to talk," said Sullivan, pulling him away with a firm hand. Zach gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to pull out of the man''s grip. The touch made his skin crawl beneath his suit.

    The chaos level toned down a bit at their arrival. Cheers burst from the crowd of people at the sight of them, intermingled with irritated shouts. Some of the children waved to them. Jacob smiled softly at some of the onlookers. Drake was the biggest attention grabber: he waved his hand at them and the crowd crowed happily even more.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    The boos overshadowed the cheers.

    As they turned the corner, Zach gave a quick glance into the crowd. Faces blended together, heights erratic with different ages ¨C yet just as he turned away, something in the crowd caught his gaze. A man¡­? He wouldn''t have noticed anything if it hadn''t been for those piercing crystal blue eyes.

    But he was around the corner before he could get another look.

    They entered a slender alleyway, shadowed by the large bank and the other nearby buildings. Sullivan turned around to look at the group, folding his arms in front of his chest. Zach rolled his shoulder. The man''s eyebrows creased with narrowed grey eyes; his mouth edged downward in a perpetual scowl.

    "You can''t screw this up, you got that?" said Sullivan, his tone sharp. Lovely, that''ll raise morale, now won''t it, sir? thought Zach dryly. "There''re lives at stake here. You''re to obey my orders should I give further instructions. Your only job is to restrain these criminals and to get the hostages out alive. I want perfection. No injuries. No failure. Am I understood?"

    A chorus of ''Yes, sir'' flooded the air. The man nodded with a small flash of approval. It was fleeting, however; he directed his gaze at Zach.

    "No mistakes like last time."

    Zach nodded; his jaw tightened. "Yes, sir. We''ve got this."

    "Get to work, then."

    Zach waited for the man to leave the alleyway, before he turned to his friends. He could see it in their eyes: they were in the zone now. Determination burned. No longer were they the vulnerable, easily bullied orphans in their school. Here, the enemy didn''t know who they were. They could hide behind the mask and take out any criminal who opposed them. They were powerful against their enemies.

    This was what kept a roof over their heads and what kept food on the table, no matter how limited it was.

    Zach motioned to the group and they huddled around him. "You ready?" he whispered, looking at each of them. They all nodded. "Then, let''s do this."

    It''ll be all right.

    We''ve succeeded so many times before. We''ve helped so many people before. We''ll save them and we''ll stop these criminals.

    A few mistakes don''t define us.

    They walked to the end of the alleyway. After a few minutes of searching, they found a heating duct. Jacob knelt down in front of it and withdrew a metal rod from his belt. He positioned it in front of his mouth, took a deep breath, and exhaled. Flames burst from his mouth, amber lighting up the darkened alleyway. The blaze poured into an opening on the rod, forming into a small line that came out of the back.

    Jacob burned a hole into each corner of the heating duct, melting the screws completely. Jacob wiped the sweat from his forehead, pulling away from the vent. Drake took his place. The older boy grabbed the edges of the metal opening and pulled, ripping it off.

    "So easy," said Drake with a cocky drawl. He set it aside quietly and patted Jacob on the back. "Good work, Blaze."

    "For you, it is," said Sevati, rolling her eyes. Drake gave her a confident smile, coming to stand next to her.

    Brielle knelt down in front of the opening. She rubbed her hands together and placed one onto the metal surface. "Doesn''t seem like anyone is guarding the emergency door," she said, after a moment. "I can''t sense any weapons. But they did put a high tech lock on the door."

    "Can you get through it?" asked Zach. "What about the bank alarm?"

    Brielle intertwined her hands together and cracked her fingers. "Of course. Easy stuff. Be ready for me."

    She crawled into the heating duct. The sounds echoed lightly as she disappeared. The rest of them waited by the nearby emergency exit door. Drake could''ve easily torn the door off its hinges, but that would''ve alerted the criminals.

    No swinging heroes here.

    A few minutes passed in silence. Clink. A sound came from behind the door; it swung open to reveal a smirking Brielle. The special lock floated in pieces in the air above her upturned palm.

    "You guys sure are slow," said Brielle, her tone playful. The pieces lowered to the ground without a sound. "I thought I was gonna have to beat up the bad guys all by myself."

    "You wish," said Drake.

    They closed the door behind themselves. Tall windows let in the sunlight, which streamed into the long hallway and shadowed part of the path. At the end of the hallway were a pair of restrooms. Drake stepped towards the men''s room.

    "Whoa, excuse you," whispered Brielle, looking at the men''s bathroom door with disgust in her eyes. "I am not going into the guy''s bathroom."

    "Uh, Spark¡­" began Hikaru. She never got a chance to finish her thought.

    "Does it matter?" asked Sevati with a sigh.

    "But I''ve never been in the girl''s room," said Drake, horrified.

    Zach put a hand to his forehead, sighing deeply. Really? We''re really having this argument right now? Again?

    "No, we were in the guy''s bathroom last time," hissed Brielle. "You make the sacrifice this time."

    "We''re wasting time," said Sevati lightly.

    "Come on, Bri, what''s wrong with the guy''s bathroom?"

    "It''s dirty!"

    "Aren''t all public bathrooms dirty?" whispered Jacob.

    "No, it''s not¡ª"

    "Uh, hello?" said Zach, stepping in between them, lifting his hands into the air. "The bank robbers are probably guys¡ª" Hikaru and Sevati both opened their mouths, about to protest. "¡ªnot that girls can''t rob banks and threaten hostages, too," he quickly amended. I can''t believe I have to say that. "But¡­ Let''s just say they''re men. All right? We''re going into the men''s room."

    Some things just never change.

    Brielle folded her arms, her mouth slanting in annoyance. As they walked inside, she grimaced at the unique, functional side of the male bathroom. Hikaru stared at the ceiling, avoiding all eye contact with the porcelain objects.

    "We need to figure out what''s going on," said Zach, looking at Hikaru. She nodded. With a shimmer, she disappeared, turning invisible. Her footsteps were soft as she walked out of the bathroom.

    "All right, depending on how many there are¡ª" Since Sullivan didn''t bother to tell us anything. Thank you for the nonexistent help. It''s like he wants to sabotage us. "¡ªlet''s just go with our usual method: the bathroom plan."

    "Cloak isn''t going to like that," said Sevati.

    "But it''s the easiest plan," whispered Jacob. "I mean¡­ there''s less fighting, so less risk, right?"

    Possibly.

    The plan relied on stealth, forcing them to take things slowly. It was better this way for most of their missions. After all, if they came into the bank, fighting wildly, someone could get hurt ¨C especially one of the hostages. The girls were best at slipping in and disabling the enemies. Brielle would dismantle the weapons, while invisible Hikaru would lure the criminals away and cause confusion among them. After Drake knocked them out, Sevati would tie them up.

    They rarely had an all out battle with criminals. Stealth was the safer, smarter way of bringing them down. There was no reason to burst onto the scene like a bunch of hotheads, when luring them out one by one had the same effect.

    The bathroom door opened. Hikaru became visible again. "There''s five men, each carrying small semi automatics," she said. "And there''re seven hostages." The light in her eyes dimmed; her lips thinned briefly. "Chief," she whispered. Fear bled through her dark eyes. "There''s a child, a little girl. What if¡ª"

    Zach placed a hand onto her shoulder. Her gaze lifted, connecting with his ¨C her terror penetrated his heart.

    "No one is gonna get hurt, all right?" whispered Zach. The light in her eyes didn''t brighten. "Look, it''s going to work out," he said. "No one''s going to die or get hurt. We got this ¨C we''ve done this before. We take down the bad guys and save the hostages. We''re¡ªwe can do this."

    He had almost said, ''We''re the heroes.'' Thankfully, he had caught himself before it slipped out. She gazed at him. The only window Zach had into her emotions were her eyes and lips. She nodded, the light in her eyes softening.

    "We''re counting on you, then, Cloak," said Zach, giving her a smile and a pat on the arm. The flesh around one of her eyes moved, giving the indication that she was raising an eyebrow; there was a hint of confusion.

    Then, recognition dawned.

    "Oh, no¡ªno, we''re not doing that plan," said Hikaru. There was a pause; Zach didn''t budge. Desperation entered her tone. "Can''t we do something else?"

    "Oh, come on, you have the fun job," said Drake brightly. "I wish I could do it. It''s hilarious."

    "But I hate this plan. Why do I always have to be the one to lure them out? And in such an embarrassing way!"

    "I know! It''s amazing!" exclaimed Drake. His mouth twisted in disappointment. "I wish it were me," he said. The evidence of him wriggling his eyebrows showed. "I guess I just don''t have that perfect, alluring nature to my voice."

    "I have a fantastic idea, Smash: let''s trade. I much rather be punching them out."

    Drake laughed. Hikaru dropped her face into her hands. She sighed, resigned to her fate. She went invisible. Three of her steps were heard before they went silent with her stealth. The door to the bathroom opened and closed.

    Silence reigned as they waited. Drake took his position near the door, his body tense. Sevati stood at the other side, while Jacob and Brielle hung back with Zach. The waiting was always difficult, but it was the silence that killed him. He couldn''t help but worry about her, wonder what was going on. Perhaps it came with being the leader, this nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. It had nothing to do with her skill; she could do this without getting caught.

    But his stomach still churned in her absence.

    The sound of footsteps signaled her first success, the first victim to the you-have-to-go-to-the-bathroom trick ¨C all beautifully whispered in the ear.

    The masked robber barely had a moment to open the bathroom door when he was met by Drake. The boy gave him a smile and a lift of the hand in greeting.

    "Yo."

    That same hand turned into a fist and smashed into the man''s face, knocking the man out immediately. With the flick of her hand, Sevati released a small seed into the air from a pouch around her wrist. The seed hovered in the air briefly, before it expanded, vines bursting forth. By the time Drake dragged the robber into the bathroom, Sevati had strong vines around the man''s arms, wrists, and ankles.

    Drake took the man''s gun and tossed it to Brielle. It paused in midair a few inches away from her outstretched hands. Her hands moved in a circular motion; the gun came apart, the pieces separating altogether. She lowered them to the ground and they clinked against the floor.

    "Good job, guys. Peach, you might be crushing the guy''s wrists with those vines."

    Sevati rolled her eyes. "He''s fine; he''ll live," she said; the vines loosened barely.

    Zach stepped to the door and peeked into the empty hallway. "Cloak, you there?" he asked. There was a soft sigh and Hikaru''s form appeared with a light shimmer. Zach smiled. "Good work. One down, four to go."

    "Hey, you think this batch is dumb enough to all need to go to the bathroom at the same time?" asked Drake with a grin, poking his head out from behind Zach.

    Hikaru chuckled. "We''ll see, won''t we? Men can sometimes be a bit slow on the uptake, hm?" The hallway became empty again. There was a soft laugh; then, silence.

    Drake looked at Zach. "I set myself up for that one, didn''t I?"

    Zach snorted. The group fell into silence once again, as they waited for the next sucker of a criminal who would fall victim to Hikaru''s invisible attack.

    She didn''t disappoint.

    The second robber was knocked out, gun removed, and tied up with the first. That leaves three. Time to give her some backup. Bank robbers weren''t exactly stupid, after all. They were bound to figure out that something was up by now ¨C or at least be somewhat suspicious.

    "I''m going with her," said Zach, stepping out of the bathroom. "You know what to do."

    He walked softly through the long hallway, staying alert. The vaulted ceiling dwarfed him, the modern architecture giving it a clean, white look, even in the darkness of the limited light. Zach reached the end of the hallway. He crouched low, staying close to the wall, remaining hidden within the shadows. An invisible touch lightly brushed against his arm. Zach crept forward. He kept his head down, keeping his gloved hand over the lower half of his face to shield the exposed skin.

    Once around the corner, he could see them: the last three criminals and the seven hostages.

    Dread filled his chest.

 FIVE

    FIVE

    It''s okay. No one is going to get hurt. That little girl is going to be okay.

    The robbers had masks on, carrying semi automatics. The hostages were huddled in a small group. Tears stained some of their cheeks. The only child, a little girl, whimpered beside her mother. The woman kept her arm around her, yet she had positioned her daughter behind herself, as if to shield her from the criminals.

    One of the robbers was squirming, shifting his weight from side to side. Zach smirked behind his hand. Hikaru wasn''t even using any kind of special power for this effect. She had this way with her tongue, making it clip like droplets of water. Simply whispering in someone''s ear did the trick.

    "What is wrong with you?" demanded one of the men, his attention on the squirming man.

    "I think I''ve got to go."

    "Go? Go where?"

    "To the john."

    "What?! Not you, too!"

    "Hey, sorry, but when nature calls, a man''s gotta do his duty."

    Zach shoved his hand into his mouth, biting down on the fabric of his glove. His body shook. He was going to have to tell Drake that one. It was a good thing Drake hadn''t been around to witness it, though ¨C he''d have blown their cover with a burst of uncontrollable laughter.

    There was a groan from the first robber, while the other man snickered. Thus, the third victim to Hikaru''s attack made his way down the hallway. Zach curled closer to the wall, keeping out of sight as the man passed by. Down the hallway, a few moments later, he could hear the soft sounds of a scuffle.

    Then, silence.

    Three down, two to go.

    Zach watched the remaining two men. The one he assumed to be the leader of the bunch paced back and forth in the lobby. He kept looking back at the hallway every few seconds, appearing anxious and suspicious.

    I hope Hikaru will hold off on the next guy. The boss looks like he''s catching up with the plan. At least one of these dumbheads have a brain.

    "Something''s wrong," said the man, pausing midstride. His head whipped from side to side, as if someone would suddenly pop up beside him. "How long does it take to take a whiz, anyway? Why haven''t they come back?"

    "Beats me," said the other man with a shrug of the shoulders. "Maybe they had to take a dump."

    "Now? All of them?" demanded the first man incredulously. He threw his arms into the air in frustration, the gun in his hand waving wildly. Some of the hostages flinched. "This is getting ridiculous!"

    "Uh, yeah¡­ About that¡­ Here''s the thing: my stomach didn''t like that late night burger¡ª"

    "Oh, just shut up and find them!" shouted the first man, grabbing his companion by the collar and thrusting him forward. The other man stumbled. "And watch for any funny business. Something''s wrong. It''s gotta be them¡ªyou know, those hero freaks!"If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Zach sucked in his breath, his stomach dropping; he narrowed his eyes. The next criminal walked towards the hallway, passing by Zach without noticing him. The first man pointed his gun at the hostages. They clustered closer together, whimpering.

    "Nobody move!" shouted the man, a furious, wild light in his eyes. "Move and you''re dead!"

    Zach watched the other robber walk down the hallway towards the bathroom. He took each step slowly, alert as he looked around. Once he reached the bathroom, he pushed the door open, keeping his distance. He peeked inside.

    "You guys in here? What''s taking so long?"

    He gasped; a fist smashed into his face.

    Four minions down and one boss left to go.

    As Zach turned his attention onto the main room, a seed of panic sprouted. The last man was waving his arms, trying to feel for something in the air. There was a soft intake of breath, barely audible ¨C but the man heard it: he swung his arm suddenly. Hikaru cried out; she hit the floor, shimmering into visibility. She didn''t move at first, dazed briefly.

    The man grabbed her around the neck. Hikaru gasped in pain as he jerked her back, his arm tightening on her neck. She clutched at him, pulling on the fabric of his sleeve, trying to break away. He jabbed the gun against her temple. She stopped struggling.

    "All right, the game is up!" shouted the man.

    Zach''s heart stopped.

    "I know there''s more of you!" snapped the man, digging the gun further into her skin. "I''ll shoot her, you hear?! If you don''t want this girl dead, then you better come out, the lot of you!"

    "No!" cried Hikaru, struggling once again. The man jerked his arm against her neck; she gasped out a cry of pain, her eyes squeezed shut. Her mouth opened in gulping breaths.

    "You better stop, girl, or I''m gonna blow your brains right outta your head!"

    "Stop it," said Zach, coming out into the open. He took a step closer. "Just stop, don''t hurt her. I''m the one you want."

    The man whirled to the side, his attention now on Zach. He snapped Hikaru around with him and she winced in pain. "Where are the others?" he demanded. "Where''s the rest of you freaks?"

    "We''ve taken out your buddies," said Zach, keeping his hands in the air. He kept his gaze on Hikaru. He could see her dark brown eyes; they were wide with fear, a shining beacon through her black mask.

    "Take me to them!"

    "Look," said Zach, licking his lips. His throat stuck with dryness. He swallowed. "It''s over for you. Your buddies are knocked out. You''re alone," he said, taking a step forward. The gun whipped from Hikaru''s temple and pointed at him. Zach stopped. He continued, putting all his effort into speaking with a clear voice, enunciating each syllable carefully. "Put the gun down and surrender. You do not want to steal. You do not want to hurt these people. You do not want to kill anyone."

    The man barked out a laugh.

    The hostages stared at the exchange with wide, fearful gazes. The mother shielded her daughter, pushing her even further back; the little girl clung to her from behind. Zach heard the soft steps of the rest of his team sneaking down the hallway. He didn''t acknowledge them; he continued to stare at the man.

    "Just shut up!" shouted the man, waving his gun wildly. Zach stiffened. "You''re just a little toy from the government! I''ve heard about you. You''re just kids! You can''t do anything when I''ve got the gun. Now bring out the rest of you!"

    His heart sank. It wasn''t working. He was failing again. He was facing the barrel of a gun. Any moment, it could shoot. His words weren''t effective; his voice wasn''t effective. Once more, they were failing him. He knew it; he''d known it ¨C and yet, he still tried again and again in some vain hope that the power would work for him.

    I can''t fail them.

    Zach wasn''t afraid of a gun. Facing that gun himself wasn''t scary. He could dodge the bullet. But if its fire turned onto someone else, how could he protect them? In that moment, Zach was terrified that someone would get hurt ¨C all because he couldn''t get his power working.

    Come on, voice, work for me now.

    "Just put the gun down," said Zach in a low voice, a prayer in his heart. Right now. It was going to work ¨C it had to. "You should put that gun down, all right? You don''t want to hurt anyone."

    His heart hoped for it, yet his mind was realistic.

    It''s not going to work.

    "Shut up, kid," said the man, coldness flowing through his tone. He cocked the gun. It pointed at Zach''s head. "I''ve got the gun. You''ve got nothing. I''m gonna blow a hole in your head, one by one ¨C and then the world will be rid of six more little freaks."

    We''re not freaks.

    The man''s finger pressed against the trigger.

    Or are we?

    "NO!" screamed Hikaru.

    Just as the man pulled the trigger, she stomped on his foot, jabbing her elbow into his side. He grunted, doubling over. The arm holding the gun moved, lowering.

    Multiple shots blasted through the bank.

    Screams instantly followed.

 SIX

    SIX

    Time itself seemed to come to a standstill.

    Hikaru didn''t hesitate. She elbowed the man in the gut, slamming a hand into his face afterward. The man let out a grunted cry. The gun in his hand clattered to the floor; his grip on her faltered. Her leg swung around and caught the man against the back. He collapsed onto his stomach. She landed a punch to his neck. He moaned softly, rolling in pain on the marbled flooring, before he stilled.

    A childlike scream flooded the air.

    "Mommy!"

    That cry alone chilled the soul. The little girl clutched at her mother, tears flooding down her cheeks. The woman''s white blouse was covered with a bright red pattern.

    Wait¡­

    The pattern was quickly spreading across her chest, like the gentle blooming of crimson petals. It slipped through her fingers and over the hand clutching her chest, droplets slipping downward to stain her skirt. The woman''s eyes were wide with shock; she gurgled for breath. She slowly fell, collapsing onto her side.

    The child screamed again.

    Hikaru rushed to the woman, dropping onto her knees at her side. Zach went to the little girl and gathered her into his arms. She sobbed, her small hands clinging to him ¨C yet she stared at her mother, watching as Hikaru ripped open the woman''s blouse. Zach cradled the little girl, trying to whisper soft words of comfort into her ear, but they felt hollow and void as they fell from his lips.

    There''s so much blood.

    The crimson liquid stained Hikaru''s gloves as she frantically tried to stem the blood loss. Her hands glowed lightly. The skin struggled to knit together. Flesh was torn beyond recognition. The blood overflowed and seeped through her fingers.

    "I can''t¡­" whispered Hikaru, the white glow of her healing ability illuminating the blood. "I can''t stop the blood flow. Too many bullets. It''s too much¡ªthe damage. It''s not healing." There was a pause; she let out an anguished gasp. "It''s her heart and lungs."

    "Smash!" shouted Zach, his head whipping upward. The little girl flinched in his arms. He patted her on the back. "Call for an ambulance! Spark, Peach, take care of the last criminal. Blaze, get Sullivan."

    The others didn''t hesitate at his orders. The other hostages tried to clear the area around the woman. Someone placed a hand onto the little girl''s back, trying to comfort her. Zach continued to rock her in his arms, hoping to calm her down ¨C but she wouldn''t be consoled.

    He couldn''t blame her.

    The woman had long stopped breathing.

    Her little voice sobbed ''Mommy'' over and over, the unforgettable word playing endlessly in his ears. Each time he heard that cry, he was reminded of another time ¨C one he wanted to both forever forget and always remember. Within his mind, the cries of the little girl blended with the cries of a little boy ¨C one who, too, had cried out for his mother so many years ago.

    Blood stained the floor.

    Tears streamed down Hikaru''s face; she never stopped trying to save the woman, whose chest rose no more. The seconds passed like years, while the minutes passed like seconds. Zach wasn''t fully aware. The bank foyer filled with officers. The criminals were handcuffed and taken away. The remaining hostages were led outside. It passed by in a blur.

    And all the while, Hikaru never stopped.

    Not even when the medics arrived.

    Her healing abilities couldn''t mend the destroyed organs. The medics pried her away. Hikaru sat back on her heels about two feet away and watched with blank eyes as they inspected the woman. One of them shook his head, a grim expression on his features. Hikaru looked down at her blood covered hands. The medics lifted a sheet over the woman''s face.

    One of the officers tried to take the little girl away from Zach, much to his reluctance. She fought like a lion to stay with him. There was nothing he could do. She screamed as two officers pulled her out of his arms. Finally, she wrapped her arms around the officer holding her, giving in and sobbing harder than ever.

    It shredded his heart.

    Zach stood up, the overwhelming feeling of helplessness crashing through his soul. He would never forget her voice. He would never forget her face. He would never forget her white blonde hair and her tear filled blue gold eyes ¨C they were etched inside his mind.

    She never stopped crying.

    Dark brown eyes connected with bright crystal blue. Shock glimmered in Hikaru''s eyes; tears never faded there. He knew what she was thinking. Those same thoughts were filling his mind.

    Failed.

    They had failed when it had counted the most. The woman had lost her life. That little girl was now motherless. She would grow up always remembering how her mother died ¨C how she was killed. She would have to grow up without her mother, without that special, vital support ¨C she was alone.

    The pain twisted Zach''s chest, its depth nearly dragging him to his knees. No matter how much he wanted to move, he was rooted. Past memories tore through his mind with a vengeance. Their sounds drowned out the chaos around him. The ghosts of the mind threatened to destroy him, but he fought back, forcing them into the recesses of his mind.

    I can''t dwell on that right now.

    My team¡ªmy family needs me.

    The rest of his friends watched the chaos with stricken eyes and thinned lips. Brielle kept her head turned, while Jacob had his eyes closed. Drake watched the officers, while Sevati stared at the white sheet that covered the woman. Zach wanted to go to them, offer some kind of comfort. They needed him.

    But his voice was locked evermore.

    Sullivan marched inside, barking orders and directing his men. Zach swallowed, bracing himself. His jaw tightened. The man would turn his attention onto him any moment now. He would blame all of this on Zach; it would be his fault. He was supposed to have the power to stop this.

    But he didn''t any more.

    "And you," snapped Sullivan, his grey eyes flashing furiously as he pointed a finger at Zach. "Come with me. Now."

    I knew it.

    Zach took a stalling second to take a deep breath. He''d barely taken two steps forward when Sullivan clamped a hand onto the back of his neck and roughly steered him forward. Zach gritted his teeth, unable to protest against being manhandled the entire way towards an empty room of the bank. Once at the door, Sullivan pushed him inside with such force, Zach nearly tripped. The door slammed shut behind them. Zach whirled around, taking a step back and putting distance between them.

    "Explain yourself," whispered Sullivan, darkness oozing through his tone. It sent a chill down Zach''s spine. A shouting adult was always better than a whispering one. "In small, short words."

    Zach sucked on the roof of his mouth. He swallowed back the bile in his throat. The textured material of his mask itched his skin. His gaze lowered; he could see the blazon red symbol on his chest, the badge of his subjugation.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    "I¡­ I messed up," whispered Zach.

    A hand slammed against the wall; the abrupt, loud sound made Zach flinch, his head whipping up. The man''s grey eyes narrowed, the fury overflowing.

    "That''s your excuse?!" shouted Sullivan. "I told you no failures. I told you no injuries! I thought it was self explanatory ¨C or should I have been more clear and said no fatalities?!"

    Zach looked at the ground.

    "Answer me!"

    There was another flinch. Zach swallowed again. "No, sir," he whispered. "You were clear."

    His chest ached with deep, twisting agony. It was the weight of a thousand bricks. His mind understood: tragedy happened all the time on the job. This had been an accident. The criminal had had a gun. The bullet could''ve killed any of them. Instead, it had been a civilian.

    It wasn''t fair.

    If this hadn''t been real, if this had been a fantasy, if it had been a movie, the gun would''ve backfired on the criminal and he would''ve fallen as justice took over with dramatic flair.

    But this wasn''t a movie. This was reality ¨C their reality. Someone had died ¨C a mother of a little girl ¨C all because a gun had gone off and none of them had the power to protect her. All these abilities and powers, and they hadn''t been able to save one life.

    It wasn''t fair.

    "Then, why did someone die?" demanded Sullivan, the fury rising with his voice. "If I was clear, why did you fail to protect the hostages?"

    Zach continued to stare at the ground, trying to ignore the red in his line of vision. What more could he say? What could he possibly say to make this right? His badge of a hero was a mere lie.

    "Look at me!" snapped Sullivan. "Look at me when I''m talking to you! Where''s your respect?"

    For you?

    I have none.

    As Zach forced his head upward, a loud crack resounded within the small room; his head whipped to the side at the force. His mask buffered the blow, but a sting bloomed in his cheek. Zach gritted his teeth, his jaw tense. He slowly turned his head back, looking up at the man once more.

    Stand strong.

    "This is unacceptable behavior," said Sullivan, his tone dropping like a stone. "This has become progressively worse with every assignment given to you. Why did that criminal shoot that gun? Why wasn''t he stopped with your powers? Why didn''t you tell him to stop?"

    Lie through your teeth.

    "I''m sorry, I messed up," said Zach, keeping his tone even and respectful. It was softer than he liked, though. "It all happened so fast, I didn''t get a chance. It''s my fault¡ª"

    A second crack smashed into his cheek, the force double in power. Zach staggered backwards, grabbing onto a nearby desk for support. His hands curled. He pushed himself up and looked back at the man. His clenched fists trembled at his sides.

    "Do not lie to me," snarled Sullivan. "You''re protecting a unit member, aren''t you? Who failed this time?"

    Zach shook his head. "It was my fault, sir," he said, his voice strong. "I''m not protecting anyone."

    Sullivan narrowed his eyes, but didn''t say anything. There was a long moment of silence. The blood in Zach''s ears roared above it. His twice abused cheek now throbbed.

    No weakness.

    "This isn''t the first time you''ve messed up," said Sullivan, after another long moment. His eyebrows furrowed, dark puzzlement entering his expression. "It''s getting worse lately. Why?"

    "I''m sorry, sir. I''ll do better next time."

    "You said that the last time," snapped Sullivan. "But this time someone died!"

    "I know," whispered Zach; his heart twisted. "I''m sorry. It was an accident."

    The light inside Sullivan''s eyes went dark. It was so hardened, so cold that it sent a chill down Zach''s spine. He stood there, waiting for the third strike. It had to come ¨C that look said it all.

    But it didn''t.

    "There isn''t any room for accidents in this life or in this work, One," said Sullivan in an ominous whisper. He put emphasis on the hated title. "Your only job was to protect those people and capture the enemy. It wasn''t difficult ¨C and yet¡­ you failed."

    "Yes, sir," whispered Zach. He never wavered; he refused to look away. Those grey eyes pierced his heart with their coldness, but he didn''t allow it to show. His shoulders fell back; his chest rose. His chin lifted slightly and his hands unclenched.

    Never show weakness.

    "Those who fail are never remembered," whispered Sullivan, continuing in that terrible tone. "Those who fail are not given unlimited chances. Am I understood?"

    A shiver crawled up Zach''s spine. "Yes, sir."

    "Get out of my sight," said Sullivan, waving a dismissive hand. He turned to the side, putting his hands onto his hips. His lips curled with disgust. Zach went straight for the door. He paused when the man said, "This better not happen again, understood? You know what happens to units who don''t do their job."

    Yes, I know.

    And I won''t let that happen to my team.

    "I understand, sir."

    Zach strode out the door. He quickly walked back to the lobby of the bank. The flurry of activity droned in his ears, melding together into a dull buzz. His gaze caught sight of the pool of blood. His eyes snapped upward; his heart thumped against his chest. Zach took a deep breath, keeping his strides long and brisk. He plowed through the groups of medics and officers, lowering his head.

    He didn''t want to look at their faces.

    Once outside, he made a beeline for the nearest sidewalk ledge. When he reached it, Zach sat on the pavement and rested his elbows onto his knees, dropping his face into his hands. His eyes burned. He could hear the people around him and feel their presence, but he kept his head down, his thoughts racing a hundred miles an hour. Over and over again, his mind replayed the scene, trying to see if the next time would, somehow, be different.

    But it never was.

    It wasn''t going to change. Each time, bullets would pierce her heart and shred her lungs. Each time, her heart would stop. Each time, Hikaru''s hands would be covered in blood. Replaying it wouldn''t change the past. He knew all this, but he couldn''t stop thinking, wondering if there had been anything he could''ve done to stop this terrible event.

    Well, if he wasn''t such a disappointment, then none of this would have happened. That much was clear.

    His cheek throbbed.

    Surely he could''ve prevented that woman''s death. A year ago, Zach could''ve saved her. He knew it. That was the key to all of this: it was his fault she had died. It wasn''t Hikaru''s fault. Being discovered by the criminals had been bound to happen, as always. It wasn''t like no one knew about Unit Twelve or hadn''t heard rumors of their powers ¨C it had only been a matter of time for one of the robbers to find her.

    They weren''t infallible.

    It was an accident.

    I should''ve been able to save her.

    But he hadn''t been able to ¨C those anguish screams of a little girl, he had caused them; he had made a little girl cry.

    He couldn''t speak the truth. He couldn''t tell Sullivan. His friends knew, but they never said anything. The moment he told anyone, then everything would change. His life would never be the same again. Their lives would end.

    ''Those who fail are not given unlimited chances.''

    How many chances did he have left?

    His poisoned thoughts continued to seep into his mind. For a few minutes, Zach couldn''t move from the sidewalk. The late afternoon sun shone down brightly, unaware of the tragedy that had occurred. Its warmth beat down on his back, heating his suit, yet the chill of the November air countered it. He tried to collect himself. He needed to pull himself together. He had to present a strong front for the others.

    Just another minute.

    Voices spoke in low, hushed sounds. Zach shifted on the pavement, turning his head to the side slightly. He peeked through his hand, seeing two men standing a number of feet away. He recognized them, officers who worked beneath Sullivan. It seemed they hadn''t noticed him sitting there.

    "Do you think he''ll come here? The news has been saying he''s on the move again."

    There was a low scoff.

    "A man like that is faster than the news. If he left, then he''s long gone. If Templeton is his next target, I bet he''s already here."

    Zach frowned, closing his eyes for better focus; he stilled.

    "Is that why the chief is calling in extra security?"

    His eyes popped open; faint light streamed through the cracks in between his fingers. He had noticed that. There had been far more officers on duty tonight ¨C more than normal.

    "I hope not. If he comes here, we''ve got our work cut out for us, not to mention those poor kids will have the fight of their lives ¨C no unit has defeated him yet. There''s plenty of hospitals, medical centers, clinics, and other facilities in this city. We have no way of knowing which one he''ll target, unless he drops a hint like he usually does. Arrogant, that one. He could go to Philadelphia or Trenton." There was a low sigh. "Is it too much to hope that he''ll just skip New Jersey altogether and go to New York?"

    The other officer chuckled.

    An icy chill slid down Zach''s back. His breath stopped in his lungs; fear clutched at his heart. He moved one of his hands from his face and pressed it against his chest. He tried to breathe slowly.

    They were talking about him.

    Tales of this man had gone around the country for a few years now. The terrorist left in his wake carnage of monstrous proportions. His destruction was costing the country billions, perhaps trillions, of dollars ¨C all because this mysterious man had some kind of agenda or vendetta that no one seemed able to figure out. Why target hospitals and clinics? Supposedly, the targeted hospitals were specialized ones and the fatalities weren''t huge in number, but the death toll was still high and ever rising with each attack.

    If that man was going to come to this city, then more people were going to die. Hospitals of that man''s choosing would be blown up. The city would be terrified, wondering when the man would strike next.

    That is, if Unit Twelve didn''t do anything about it.

    It was their responsibility to protect the lives of these people.

    I can''t live through another death like this. If this criminal comes to our city, we''ll take him down no matter what. We can''t go through this again.

    But¡­ Would they fail again?

    A hand touched his shoulder. Zach took a deep breath and looked up. Drake stood over him; the muscles around his eyes crinkled with a pleading light. The hand withdrew and Zach nodded. He stood up, brushing himself off. The rest of the team stood nearby. Sevati and Brielle were looking away. Hikaru had Jacob in a tight hug; he clung onto her, his upper body shaking with silent tears. She looked over the boy''s shoulders towards Zach, her gaze penetrating in its intensity.

    Pain resided there.

 SEVEN

    SEVEN

    The solemn air was oppressive. It didn''t dissipate in the car. If the ride to the bank had been depressing, the ride home was catatonic. Zach felt disconnected, dazed. His rampant thoughts dominated his mind.

    No one spoke. After twenty minutes, they reached the apartment complex. Once parked and the van turned off, Zach sat back in his seat.

    His heart ached, his soul numb.

    He pushed the pain away, forcing the memory to disappear. He couldn''t afford to feel. He wasn''t trying to be callous. He mourned the death. The woman deserved it; the little girl deserved it. They needed to be remembered.

    But that was an indulgence he couldn''t partake in. If the others saw him crying over the death, when he was supposed to be their foundation, then they would crumble ¨C they would break down and cry, too. Zach couldn''t do that to his friends. They didn''t realize it, but they were counting on him to be strong.

    Thus, no tears fell. Zach would no longer allow any haunting thoughts about the ''what if'' ¨C it was done; it was over. He had failed, but he would move forward.

    His only focus: how to comfort the others?

    Zach pulled off his mask. He twisted in his seat, looking towards his friends. Hikaru sat in the middle with Jacob, who was resting his head on her shoulder. Brielle and Sevati hadn''t changed seats; they looked out the window, their gazes refusing eye contact.

    The van''s interior returned to its original state. They passed clothing around, returning each article to their rightful owner. They removed their masks, slipped shirts over their suit, and took off their gloves. No one would notice they all wore the same black pants.

    Zach opened the door of the van and stepped outside, the others following. There was a chill in the air. The sunlight had darkened, now late afternoon. The sky blended with white clouds, forming a shadowy dusk of blue. There were no stars twinkling in the heavens.

    The silence was brutal. Zach longed to hear the usually talkative voices, laughter ringing through the stairwell as they stomped up the stairs, much to their neighbors'' annoyance. Now, the footsteps were light, the voices silent. Zach unlocked their front door with his key and stepped inside.

    "Is anyone hungry?" asked Hikaru, turning around when she was in the middle of the room. Drake closed the door behind himself. She smiled lightly; her jaw stiffened as she tried to maintain her composure. Her smile faltered when no one responded. "I can make something, anything you want. You all must be hungry. Mac and cheese?"

    No one answered.

    "There''s got to be something you want to eat," said Hikaru, breathless. Her voice trembled and rose in pitch. She stepped closer to the kitchen. "We should eat."

    "I''m not hungry," whispered Drake.

    Sevati shook her head as well. Her lips thinned; she took a deep breath. Brielle stared at the wall, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

    Zach sighed. He had to eat something or his emotions would run haywire, but he couldn''t bring himself to say anything. He wanted to support Hikaru, but he didn''t want to force the others to eat either. The thought of food made him gag.

    Hikaru glanced between them, becoming desperate. "Are you sure?" she whispered. There were more shakes of the head. Her chest heaved upward; she inhaled. "All right, how about a movie?" she asked, trying to sound cheerful. She twisted her hands. "We could make popcorn."

    Jacob pulled away from the group, stopping in front of her. She looked down at him, her expression broken with sorrow. Large tears welled inside Jacob''s eyes. He threw his arms around her waist and began to sob. Hikaru embraced him; she dipped her face into his curly black hair.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    It was a ripple effect: Sevati rubbed her face, sniffling softly; Brielle looked away, tears sliding down her cheeks; Drake put a hand over his eyes and tilted his face towards the ceiling.

    Hikaru looked to Zach, filled with deep pleading and longing, as if seeking for some kind of answer.

    But he was lost as the rest of them.

    He had promised he would be strong for them, but the building lump in his throat was becoming too painful. He swallowed, his jaw clenching against his teeth; he forced the lump back down.

    You are not allowed to cry.

    Be their strength, their support.

    Zach put an arm around Brielle''s shoulders, drawing her against his side. She didn''t resist. She leaned against him, before she hid her face in his shoulder. Her body shuddered.

    "I know," whispered Zach.

    She let out a suppressed sob. He held her tighter.

    "I know."

    Drake dragged his hand over his face, sniffling loudly. Sevati had lost the battle against her tears, turning to him and burying her face into his chest. Drake wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

    A number of minutes passed. No one moved from their spots, each drawing comfort from the other. When there was a lull in emotions, they broke away, divided by their genders, and went into their rooms.

    As Zach entered one of the two bedrooms with the other boys, he ignored the scattered clothes adorning the floor and open drawers. The bunk bed to the left of the door was also covered with numerous assortments of clothes, library books, pencils, and sketchbooks. The top bunk, slightly less messy, had a handful of stuffed toys. There was no order whatsoever to the mess, yet somehow Drake always seemed to know exactly where the unimportant things were and never the important things.

    Like the television remote or a textbook.

    The girls, on the other hand, were far superior in the organization of their bedroom ¨C well, not Brielle so much, but the other two girls didn''t allow her to be messy. Zach had tried to clean the boys'' room before, but the room always exploded into mess within the five minutes.

    Ah, well.

    Zach walked over the pile of clothes blocking the pathway. He avoided a handful of action figures and comic books, nearly slipping on another pile of clothes. He jabbed his toe with a plastic sword. He hissed underneath his breath, hopping a bit as he rubbed it. He sighed.

    Occasional sniffles punctuated the silence. The boys stripped out of their suits, changing into comfortable clothes. As he dressed, Zach glanced at the painting that hung above his bed. The brushstrokes had painted a dawning landscape, the sky brilliant with rich colors of red, gold, and purple: the glow of a sunrise. His heart twisted, remembering who wasn''t in his life any more ¨C just like that little girl.

    The emotional control he had maintained for so long detonated, the shattered pieces crashing down on him like a tidal wave. Water choked his breath; it threatened to overwhelm him. Blood rushed through his ears, the roar drowning all sound. His hands shook. His eyes burned, watering with emotion.

    Zach scrambled to the end table next to his twin bed. Inside the drawer were a few pieces of hard candy, cheap stuff from a dollar store. He quickly unwrapped one and jammed it into his mouth without the others'' notice.

    Breaking point.

    Zach stood there, his back to Drake and Jacob. He drew in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. He cleared his mind and stared at a toy on the floor, keeping his awareness on the slow rise and fall of his breathing.

    The sea of his emotions calmed, the uncontrollable tide ebbing to still waters. His hands were still shaking somewhat, but that would subside soon. Blood sugar issues were the bane of his composure.

    Zach looked out the window as he waited for the boys to finish. The night had fallen, the darkness like an indomitable barrier, blocking them from the world. Close by, the other apartment lights were on; silhouettes moved behind curtains.

    He pulled their curtains shut.

    Zach walked into the living room. Drake and Jacob followed after him. The girls were already there. Jacob went straight to Hikaru, wrapping his arms around her. He rested his cheek against her shoulder, his dry eyes filled with a never ending chasm of sorrow. Drake went to stand next to Brielle and Sevati.

    No one wanted to be parted from the other.

    "Why don''t we all sit for awhile?" asked Zach in a low whisper. "Before we go to bed."

    Together, they moved as one. Zach sat down in the middle of the couch, with Brielle on his right. Jacob sat down next to Zach on the left, with Hikaru sitting beside him. Finally, Sevati sat down by Brielle, with Drake on the end. There, each snuggled against the other as close as possible, the old couch overflowing its capacity. Jacob and Brielle both pulled their knees to their chests and surrounded their legs with their arms. Sevati pulled her legs underneath herself and leaned against Brielle, with Drake resting against her.

    Zach put an arm around Brielle and the other around Jacob. He leaned his head against the back of the couch. No one said a word. Occasionally, the silence was broken by a sniffle. After a few minutes, something soft slipped into Zach''s hand. He clasped tightly onto it, glancing to the side to look at Hikaru.

    Tears streamed down her face.

    All six friends fell asleep huddled together on the couch that night.

 EIGHT

    EIGHT

    The next morning, Zach woke with a crick in his neck.

    But his surroundings were warm.

    He lifted his head and flexed his shoulders, rolling his neck to alleviate the stiffness. He glanced around, checking on everyone. Brielle was curled up against him, her head in his lap. Sevati and Drake were leaning against her. Jacob had fallen to the side, his glasses askew, curled up with knees bent to his chest and his arms folded beneath him. Everyone was still asleep.

    Hikaru was gone.

    Zach slipped out from beneath Brielle, letting her rest where he''d been sitting. She stirred, but didn''t wake. He stretched his arms in the air. It took a moment of awkward walking to get his flexibility back.

    He looked around the apartment for Hikaru. She wasn''t in either bedroom nor the bathroom. He went to the front door and opened it; the stairway was empty as well. Zach closed the door behind himself. He walked down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaks in the wood.

    Once at the bottom, he opened the door to the outside. The sun shone brightly, the warm, pleasant rays flooding over his skin. Despite the heat from the sunlight, the chill in the air offset it. Zach wished he had thought to bring a jacket.

    Rubbing his hands over his arms, he walked around their apartment building, towards a shaded area where there was a secluded patch of grassy land. It was the perfect place for young children to play. Zach and his friends often used it to practice sparring; anyone who asked were told it was for karate class. A gentle breeze blew by, the last of the fall leaves rustling softly in its wake. It breathed with a crisp scent. Some leaves broke from their branches and fluttered to the ground.

    As he came closer to the grassy area, he found Hikaru. She was standing outside the shade, moving with slow, precise steps ¨C it was her Tai Chi routine, the one she practiced every morning for the past three years.

    Her movements, which resembled a gentle dance, were somber.

    "Mind if I join you?" asked Zach. Hikaru''s eyes glanced at him briefly, before she nodded; the elegant movements of her routine never wavered. Zach watched for a moment, before he joined in. He stood across from her, keeping his steps opposite to hers ¨C she had taught him the routine a few years ago. She had always said that it could calm anyone down.

    But, right now, she was anything but calm.

    "Did you get up early?" asked Zach.

    "Mmm."

    Her attempts to avoid eye contact were obvious.

    "It wasn''t your fault," said Zach, his voice soft. Her limbs stiffened, but she continued the routine.

    "She would not have died if it weren''t for me," said Hikaru, as she slowly stepped forward, her hand pushing outward. Every movement she made was within her control. As she spoke, her voice was calm; the deep ache in her heart could be heard.

    "The bullets killed her," whispered Zach. "The gun went off and she was in the way. It was an accident."

    It was my fault, not yours.

    As she slowly stepped to the side, Hikaru''s eyes darkened. "Those bullets should''ve been for me," she said, emotion burning her voice. "Now a little girl is without her mother."

    "It wasn''t your fault," said Zach, stopping. His arms dropped to his sides, his fists clenching tightly. "It was my fault and you know it. My¡­ My ability wasn''t w¡ª"

    "Stop!" shouted Hikaru. She broke the routine, throwing her hands into the air. "Don''t say it out loud! If you don''t say it, then it''s not true." She looked at him, pleading desperation in her gaze. Her tone dropped. "You can''t say it. Please," she whispered. "He was just immune. Some people can be immune to it, right?"

    His heart broke.

    "Yes," said Zach, calm through the lie.

    A bird chirped in the trees. Hikaru glanced away, looking up towards the treetops. She took a deep breath. The cool breeze brushed against Zach''s skin, carrying with it the fragrance of detergent from the local laundromat.

    It''s only a matter of time. Once the truth was revealed, it was all over. Unit Twelve would be disbanded and assigned to new recruits.

    What would happened to them?

    He didn''t know. They would be separated ¨C oh, yes, they would probably never see each other again, even when they reached adulthood. But Zach had no real knowledge of what happened to disbanded teams. Were they individually reassigned to another team? Perhaps they''d be thrown back into the system the government had created for children like them.

    A darker part of his mind wondered if they would disappear altogether. Would the government ''remove'' them? Somehow, that wasn''t as frightening as their fragile family being torn apart.

    Zach would do anything to delay that future.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    "There is a little girl who will grow up without her mother," said Hikaru; her voice cracked once. "You''re not to blame. You have no control over that." There was a long moment. She pulled her lips inside her mouth and wrapped her arms around her chest. "It should have been me," she whispered.

    Zach sucked in his breath. Those innocent words were not meant to be cruel ¨C but, oh, they tore his heart. His chest twisted at such a thought.

    "No," whispered Zach, his voice strong. "It''s better that you live."

    Hikaru''s eyes narrowed. "Are you suggesting that her death is justified?" she snapped, her tone flinty. "That her life is of less worth than mine? I''m not a mother. She still had a great responsibility."

    "But you do, too."

    "I am nothing more than a hired soldier, a fa?ade of a hero ¨C if a hero at all," said Hikaru, her expression growing hard. "I know my place and my position. I can be traded away or substituted with another at any time. But that woman can''t be substituted!" she cried, her hand gripping the fabric of her shirt. It trembled. "No mother can be traded."

    Orphans¡­

    Families torn apart by the government.

    They each knew the pain that little girl would go through. Rarely did they ever talk about their previous families. But they all knew that they were united in the same pain, bound together in a strange, yet powerful way. Zach looked into her eyes, seeing the pain of her heart plainly etched there. Her chest rose up and down in short bursts, as if she were trying to maintain the last of her control.

    If Hikaru had been killed, this little family would''ve suffered a blow like no other. Zach didn''t know what he''d do without her. She was their rock, always their voice of reason. She was his rock, his best friend. Drake was an awesome buddy and, often, he went to the older boy for his thoughts and advice.

    But Hikaru was his closest friend, the only one whom Zach felt safe enough to share some of his deepest thoughts and feelings. If he didn''t have her, he was sure he couldn''t handle the heavy burden he carried.

    Though he was their leader, Zach was sure they could go on should something happen to him. Her strength was the glue that sealed them together. They could and would be strong without him.

    But he hoped a time like that wouldn''t come.

    "You''re more than a hired soldier," said Zach softly. She looked away. He stepped closer, putting a hand onto her forearm. "You know that. It should''ve been me, but you saved my life. And I¡­ I don''t want you to die," he whispered. "I guess it''s selfish of me, but I want you to be alive, no matter what."

    Even if I had to choose¡­

    Hikaru sagged, the tenseness in her body lessening. Her eyes clenched shut, sending a pair of tears down her cheeks. She tucked her arms against her chest, clasping her hands over her heart.

    A sob broke through her lips.

    Zach pulled her into his arms. She cried into his chest, her hands wrinkling the front of his shirt. She pressed her forehead there. His arms squeezed against her back, pulling her closer.

    After a few moments, her hands released his shirt and curled around his waist. She was taller than him, barely an inch, but with her head dipped into his neck, it wasn''t noticeable.

    "It''s okay," whispered Zach. "It''s okay."

    Her hold on him tightened. "No, it''s not," she cried.

    "I know. You''re right. It''s not okay."

    There wasn''t anything more he could say to comfort her.

    So, he held her.

    He stood there, unaware of the time that passed. He ignored the cold that surrounded them. He ignored the rustling breeze that made it even chillier. He ignored the chirping birds. He ignored the sounds of distant cars.

    His focus was on her.

    Soon, her sobs softened to shuddering cries; then, she went silent. Her breathing deepened, each intake of air slow and deliberate. More minutes passed.

    "Sorry."

    Zach''s hand slipped through thick strands of her black hair. It was soft and silky. His hand cradled the back of her head. "It''s not your fault," he said. She shook her head. Her warm breath intensified against his skin, brushing it so lightly, it sent chills through his stomach. "Listen to me, Hikaru¡ª" He emphasized his next words deliberately. "¡ªYou must live on. You''re going to have to let it go or else you''ll never be all right. You''ll always be haunted by this and we''ll never forget. But you can''t let it stop you from saving the next mother who needs us."

    There was a shuddering gasp and, for a moment, Zach thought she was going to start crying again. Her arms tightened around his waist; she nodded her head; her tears had fallen onto his shoulder, his skin still wet.

    Zach didn''t mind it.

    His face was surrounded by her hair, the light scent of her shampoo wafting over his senses. As he focused on this, a sensation fluttered in the pit of his stomach. The air didn''t seem so cold any more.

    Hikaru pulled back. She slid her hands over her face and wiped away the tears. She sniffled, rubbing her fingers under her nose. Zach smiled at her disheveled appearance, his stomach flopping strangely again. Her clumped eyelashes brushed against her reddened cheeks; her eyes were puffy.

    But she was smiling again, determination flaring once more.

    "Thank you."

    Zach gave her a smile. "Are you all right now?" he asked.

    She brightened and nodded. "I am now." That gentle smile softened; her head tilted to the side, a deep sincerity within her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.

    The heat in his face crawled its way to his ears.

    "Hey!"

    At the sound of Brielle''s voice, Zach and Hikaru turned around to see the rest of the gang. Each looked tired, but alert. Jacob was rubbing his cheeks. The other two, Sevati and Drake, looked hesitant, but they had knowing, almost mischievous smirks on their faces.

    Why is Drake looking at me like that?

    "I''m starved," complained Brielle. She folded her arms and stared at them with a pointed expression. Hikaru let out a soft laugh. Zach joined her. They laughed even harder when they received perplexed looks. Then, Hikaru, her dark eyes lighting up in mischief, gave Zach a rough shove. It startled him and he lost his balance, landing on his backside. He stared up at her.

    "What¡ª"

    "You''re it!" cried Hikaru, laughing almost to the point of hysteria. She darted away, leaving a dumbfounded Zach on the damp, cold grass. After a second, he cracked a smirk and leapt to his feet. One hefty shove later and he had passed ownership to an unsuspecting Drake.

    And then it was on.

    A mixture of playful, delighted laughter spread through the six friends like wildfire. It didn''t matter that it was early morning. It didn''t matter that something terrible had happened the night before. Everything was lost to the moment.

    Food was forgotten.

    An old memory was forgotten.

    The only thing on the minds of the six teenagers was a simple game. They pushed themselves to their limits; an hour passed. The game stopped rather abruptly and the grassy yard supported six exhausted teens.

    Yet, everything seemed a little better.

    As Zach stared up at the blue sky, his chest heaving deeply as he breathed, the smile never faded from his mouth. The freshness of cut grass from the day before and the scent of fall filled his senses. Peace. The others were sprawled across the lawn in various positions all around him. He could hear their pants. But, somehow, he knew they were smiling.

    "All right, guys," said Zach, clapping his hands and sitting up. "I dunno about you, but I''m famished. Let''s get some breakfast."

    It was going to be a good day. They would have two of them, a reprieve from the cruel world. Zach would make sure their hearts were recharged with blissful happiness before they were over.

 NINE

    NINE

    This just in: the terrorist, Falcon, is on the move. Last night, there was an attack on a medical clinic in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Over one hundred people lost their lives. This makes it the third clinic destroyed in the city.

    Where will this criminal strike next? Some say that he''ll go to Philadelphia. Others speculate that he''ll go to New Jersey. Templeton Hills and Trenton are possible targets. Law enforcements are scrambling to up their security.

    Templeton Hills is home to one of the controversial government teams of the powerfully gifted ¨C Unit Twelve. No doubt, Falcon will have his hands full if¡ª

    <hr noshade="noshade" size="1">

    "Turn it off," said Zach, folding his arms. Drake twisted on the couch, looking back at him. Jacob was sitting next to him. He stared at the small television, visibly shaken by the report.

    Drake''s expression darkened. "We should be up on the news."

    "We don''t need to hear about crap, especially second-hand crap," said Zach, taking the remote out of Drake''s hand and switching the channel to an afternoon cartoon. "We don''t need to hear about that man any more."

    "But what if¡­ What if Falcon does come to our city?" asked Jacob. He bit his lower lip; his eyebrows furrowed. The black eye he had received a week ago had faded and the swelling had gone down. He had little discoloration around his eye.

    Zach put his hands onto his hips. "If he comes to our city, we''ll hear it from Sullivan and not from some stupid reporter wearing a toupee."

    Drake snorted.

    Jacob giggled, his dark eyes dancing with mischief. But his good mood faded; anxiousness filled his features. "If he does come here¡­ what are we going to do?" he asked in a soft whisper. "He''s really dangerous."

    Zach sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. The news had blown up about Falcon, nearly every channel having some sort of discussion about him. The school had turned their attention onto Falcon, giving Zach and his friends some much needed respite. The police station was going crazy with overwork. Sullivan had been expecting this man for awhile it seemed, but he hadn''t mentioned anything ¨C yet.

    But Jacob was twelve years old, a child. This was scary. A terrorist with a chip on his shoulder could strike their city any day now and it would be expected of Unit Twelve to stop him ¨C even when the top units had failed. If he could shield the boy from the burden and responsibility, then he would. It was better this way. He would protect them.

    That was his duty as their leader.

    "Look, Jacob, it''ll be all right," said Zach, trying to sound confident. "If he has the guts to show up, then we''ll take him down."

    "But the other units have had trouble against him," said Drake. "Remember, a few months ago, when he went to Denver? Unit Four didn''t have a chance against him ¨C and they have someone who can see into the future."

    "We can take him down," said Zach, a hint of warning entering his tone. He gave Drake a pointed look. "We can do this. We''re a good team."

    "Yeah¡­ not really," said Sevati, entering the living room from the kitchen. She sat on the couch next to Jacob with a bowl of cereal in her hands. "We''re at the bottom of the totem pole. We''re not exactly the best unit, according to online rankings. What makes you think that we''re any more powerful than the others?"

    "Because we have something they don''t," said Zach; he paused for effect. His eyes twinkled. "Nicknames."

    Jacob let out a soft giggle. Zach gave the other two a look, daring them to question it. Sevati stared at him, calmly spooning cereal into her mouth ¨C yet within her eyes, there was a light of gratitude.

    Zach handed Drake the remote and turned away, apprehensive. He walked towards the front door and slipped into the dimly lit hallway, shutting the door behind himself. With a sigh, he sat down at the top of the stairs. He rested his arms onto his knees and ran his fingers through his hair.

    It''d been true all along, what those officers had gossiped about. TV, webpages, newspapers, neighbors ¨C no one would shut up about this guy. In a way, the news had doomed them, giving the man so much publicity. Falcon was probably in the city. It was unlikely he had chosen another ¨C he always made a show of his targets.

    Zach was so done with it.

    He yawned, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. Sleep. What was that again? His nights were haunted by the woman who had died, blood staining the lining of his dreams; the girl''s screams echoed. The others suffered as well. In the mornings, there was always an understanding silence between them.

    And, of course, copious amounts of caffeine.

    The pressure in Zach''s chest bubbled upward ¨C the fear, the worry, the terror that someone would die because he couldn''t save them. The helpless feeling threatened to suffocate him.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    It was the final lash upon his back. On top of all the stress he already had, he didn''t need some nutcase in his city. Problems at school, little to no money, sleepless nights, nightmares ¨C after all that, did the universe really have to give him a mass murdering psychopath?

    Of course, it did. It also added failing powers onto his load.

    No matter how much he wanted to ignore it, no matter how much he tried to hide it, this wasn''t fixing itself. He had no idea what was wrong with himself. He had no way of knowing if this was common or otherwise. But he knew he needed his ability back immediately if they wanted even a sliver of a chance against this man.

    The alternative could not be allowed.

    Failing meant hundreds of people would die. Failing meant Sullivan would be furious. Failing would mean the end of their family.

    No matter what, he was going to stop Falcon.

    The door behind him opened, breaking his thoughts; it closed with a soft shut. Someone sat beside him and leaned against his shoulder.

    "Hey," whispered Zach, recognizing the scent of her shampoo.

    "You all right?" asked Hikaru. Zach took in a breath and let it out slowly. He nodded and rested his head against hers; she fit perfectly in the crook of his neck.

    "I''m fine."

    "I heard from the others. Are you worried?"

    Zach shrugged.

    "Mmmm¡­ Pretty scary stuff, this all powerful Falcon," Hikaru said, her tone light with a blend of seriousness. "I think I''m going to faint with fright!"

    Zach couldn''t stop the breathy chuckle from escaping. He sobered. "Come on, knock it off," he said with a nudge. "This is serious."

    "Oh, oh, ofcourse, you''re right. This is very serious stuff," said Hikaru, nodding. She sat up and stared at Zach with playful, somber features. Her eyes twinkled. Her lips thinned, twitching in the effort to not break into a smile.

    Zach glanced away. A hand gently touched his chin, forcing him to look at her. The twinkling playfulness was gone. He averted his gaze. Warmth spread through his face.

    Her hand is soft¡­

    "Zach, talk to me," whispered Hikaru.

    Crystal blue disappeared behind the darkness, eyes squeezing shut. He couldn''t say out loud what she wanted to hear. The words were locked in his heart. He''d always been able to tell her everything.

    Why can''t I say anything?

    For the first time, he couldn''t express his thoughts to her.

    In the end, he didn''t want to talk about this. He didn''t want to talk about an unstable future. He didn''t want to voice his fears, because ¨C like Hikaru had said ¨C the act of saying them out loud made them terribly real.

    Time was draining faster than sand within an hourglass.

    He couldn''t tell her. It would only add to her stress. They were all struggling after the death of that woman, but it''d been hardest on Hikaru. He couldn''t burden her further. It was better to be silent.

    This was his alone to bear.

    "Everything''s fine," said Zach, opening his eyes. She tilted her head, her eyebrows furrowing with concern. He put a hand over hers. "I promise. Everything is going to be all right."

    She knows.

    Forgive me, Hikaru.

    Her lips thinned and, for a moment, it seemed as if she would press him further. But her expression softened and she nodded.

    Thank you. I know you don''t like this. You''ve always been good at knowing when to back off. I''m sorry I can''t tell you everything, but it''s better this way.

    I promise.

    A door slammed, breaking the quiet moment. Hikaru quickly withdrew her hand, while Zach pulled back. Brielle stomped up the stairs, her steps echoing through the hallway. She muttered under her breath, her voice rising with each step she took.

    "How was your last detention?" asked Zach.

    Brielle glared. She stopped two stairs below them. "I hate school," she said hotly. "I hate people. I hate stupid kids. And I hate Ms. Park!"

    "That bad, huh?"

    "It was horrible!" cried Brielle, stomping her foot on the stair. "Stupid, dumb, freakin'' punks. They''re horrible jerks and yet, for some reason, they feel that I''m beneath them." She folded her arms, her backpack sliding down her shoulder. A deep, unsettled expression crossed her face. "They all have weird families. What''s wrong with ours?"

    "Oh, Bri, I''m so sorry," said Hikaru, reaching out to the younger girl. Brielle leaned away, brushing her off. She stepped up and passed the two of them on the ledge. Hikaru''s hand curled away; her gaze dropped.

    "I''m fine. I just need some food."

    The door to the apartment slammed shut. Zach sighed. "Sometimes, I wish she wasn''t so stubborn," he whispered. "I hate it when she doesn''t let Drake pick her up. I know she can take care of herself, but still¡­"

    "She needs that time alone," whispered Hikaru. "She certainly isn''t going to get it here."

    Zach let out a low laugh. "True."

    With a sigh, Hikaru leaned against his side, resting her head against his shoulder. They stayed there, sitting at the top of the stairs, enjoying the quiet company.

    Such times were rare.

    And, of course, they never lasted long.

    Something buzzed inside Zach''s pocket. His stomach flopped. Hikaru shifted at his side. For a moment, they didn''t move, postponing the inevitable. Together, they took out their phones. A chill went down Zach''s spine at the words on the screen.

    EMERGENCY. Unit Twelve assemble.

    Their gazes locked onto one another. Fear bloomed in those dark brown eyes.

    This is it.

    Zach took her by the hand, lightly squeezing it. She trembled. He stood, pulling Hikaru up. He gave her a reassuring smile, before they went back into the apartment.

    Chaos flooded the ears.

    "It''s him! I know it!" cried Jacob, pointing wildly towards the television. "They were right; he''s here!"

    "Would you chill already? You don''t know that," said Drake.

    Brielle stood in the kitchen with a bowl of canned pasta in her hand. She dropped her spoon into the bowl, the metal clinking against the glass. "Are you freaking kidding me?" she demanded. "We got a job? I just got home!"

    "It''s probably him," said Sevati; her voice was calm, yet it wavered slightly. "Why else send out ''emergency'' in the text? It''s logical to assume it''s Falcon."

    "What''re we gonna do?" cried Jacob, grabbing his face and dragging his fingers down over his cheeks.

    "We are going to remain calm," said Zach, raising his voice above the commotion. His tone turned serious. "I''m not going to sugarcoat this: it''s probably Falcon." Jacob whimpered, covering his eyes with his hands. Zach''s voice rose. "But we''re not going to be afraid. If we''re afraid, then this criminal has already won half the fight."

    No one said anything. Jacob lowered his hands. He still looked worried, but his expression softened, as if he were making the effort to calm himself. Wearied strength entered his features.

    "We''ll make a plan on the way there," said Zach. He took a deep breath, wetting his lips. "Don''t let the fear go to your head. We''re a team¡ªwe''re a family, aren''t we?"

    The intensity left the room. Everyone nodded. Zach took a deep breath. He gazed once more into each of their faces, trying to send them strength. His gaze rested on Hikaru last. If he was weak, then they all were.

    Stay strong.

    "There are people depending on us," said Zach, his voice powerful. "And we will protect them ¨C no matter what."

 TEN

    <h1 style="text-align: center">TEN</h1>

    "What do you think ''emergency'' means, One? A stroll in the park?! We aren''t setting up play dates!"

    "No, sir."

    "I sent the address. Now move it!"

    "Yes, sir," said Zach, ending the call. He slipped the phone into his pocket. "Let''s go," he said, deep tiredness in his tone.

    They collected their suits and were out the door in minutes. Once in the van, Brielle changed the interior, giving them space to change into their uniforms. Windows were shaded and a divider erected.

    Zach finished first; he got into the driver''s seat. "Hang on, guys," he said.

    There were muffled grunts as the van pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. Brielle altered the interior when they had finished changing. The van became silent. With masks in place, tension was high. Zach didn''t have the heart to break the silence. They needed to make a plan. He needed to encourage them. He needed to give them hope.

    But trite words weren''t going to help them.

    Instead, Zach thought over plans, ideas, and scenarios for the upcoming fight. He discarded them one by one. They all seemed doomed to fail. However, one idea stood out in Zach''s mind: a group attack. A simple plan, but if this were Falcon, it''d be anything but easy.

    If only he had more data. How had the other units'' fights gone down? The more he thought about it, the more something felt off. How had Falcon ¨C one man ¨C managed to defeat six trained fighters with special powers?

    It didn''t make sense.

    Something was missing here. True information about Falcon was limited, despite his infamous nature. Much of what Zach had gathered from Internet searches was a mixture of urban folklore and fake police reports. Falcon was an adult male and struck random specialized hospitals. The death toll had reached over five hundred now. Tales were told about him, the areas of where he struck were known, but there was nothing on the man''s appearance.

    Well, there were no ''official'' reports, not even from the police department. There were random blog posts and plenty of videos about supposal sightings. Obviously, there were grains of truth in those articles, but they were too difficult to pinpoint. But one thing for certain: there was no possible way the government and the police had zero information.

    Zach gritted his teeth.

    That meant Sullivan was holding out on them.

    There was confidential information somewhere, yet ¨C for whatever reason ¨C Sullivan had chosen to withhold it from them. How were they supposed to protect this city? How were they supposed to succeed at stopping Falcon? Why let them go into this blind?

    Zach huffed to himself. He tried to focus on driving, but his mind kept wandering to one fact.

    Why was it every time this man entered a city, Falcon managed to kill hundreds of people? Why didn''t they evacuate all the hospitals? Why did they allow the man to succeed in his attacks? He was one man. Why couldn''t they stop him?

    It didn''t make any sense.

    The missing pieces of the puzzle frightened Zach. The shadowed unknown illuminated one thing: either Falcon was that skilled or someone was pushing the information down.

    Neither sounded good.

    As Zach pulled up to the location, he had to pause at the roadblock. Once he cleared inspection, he drove through the street, passing by numerous police cars. The red and blue lights flashed, blinding the evening with their bright colors. Zach pulled the van over to an empty spot and turned it off. He twisted in his seat, looking back at the others. In the sea of black suits, he could see their eyes.

    "Keep our nicknames to ourselves," said Zach. "It''s going to be all right. We''ll stop him."

    No one moved. No one answered. He knew: they all expected this to go south. Zach shook his head. He got out of the van, shutting the door behind himself. The others followed.

    "There you are!" shouted Sullivan. "What took you so long?" The man strode towards them, irritated as ever.

    Zach straightened and made eye contact, lifting his chin. He better have some information for me.

    "Come here," said Sullivan, motioning with a finger. Zach obeyed. When he got close, Sullivan clamped a hand onto the back of his neck. Zach stiffened. He was forcibly led away from his team.

    He hated when the man touched him ¨C it was always harsh and impersonal, despite the veneer of a casual, personal touch.

    "Listen to me," said Sullivan in a low whisper. "Based on our intelligence, Falcon is going to strike one of three hospitals in this area¡ª"

    "So, it is Falcon, then."

    Sullivan gave him a sharp look; the hand on Zach''s neck squeezed harder. "Of course, it''s Falcon," he snapped. "What were you expecting? A picnic? Haven''t you been keeping up with the news? Don''t interrupt me again."This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Zach nodded; his hands curled into fists. "Yes, sir."

    "The potential targets have been evacuated to the nearest available locations. I want Unit Twelve on the rooftops to survey the area. Falcon is known to engage units in a fight. Your job¡ª"

    "Wait a minute," began Zach. Sullivan''s lips thinned in heated disapproval. "Why haven''t the other hos¡ª"

    "You interrupted me again," said Sullivan in a low hiss, his grey eyes widening furiously. "What did I just say about that?"

    "I''m sorry, sir, but¡ª"

    "Shut up and listen to your orders."

    "But, sir, why aren''t they evacuating all of the hospitals?" asked Zach, plowing forward with his question, despite the glare. "Shouldn''t we be evacuating all the hospitals in the entire city? Wouldn''t it be safer to remove everyone from the locations until Falcon leaves?"

    The hand on Zach''s neck tightened to an unbearable pressure.

    "They can''t shut down every hospital in the city," snapped Sullivan, the condescension dripping through his tone. Zach clenched his jaw, tightening his lips in the effort to remain quiet. "People need those facilities. We can''t shut everything down just because one psychopath goes on a terrorist spree."

    Sullivan shook him by the neck and pulled him closer, bending over his ear. Zach tried not to pull away; the mask protected him from the whispered breath over his skin. It still sent shivers down his spine.

    "Pay attention, will you?" whispered Sullivan, his tone turning darker. "We don''t have all night for your idiotic questions. Your job is to bring Falcon down. I don''t care about any stories you might''ve heard. Bring him down. I want him in a cell tonight. Do not let him get away, understood?"

    "Yes, sir," said Zach. Questions were on the tip of his tongue, but he held them back. The man wouldn''t answer them, anyway. The hand disappeared from his neck. Sullivan turned and waved in dismissal.

    "Get your team together. Do not fail, One."

    Zach slowly unclenched his hands and took a deep breath. He forced himself to look away; his gaze sought his team.

    He really hated that name.

    Zach walked to his friends, who were standing together in silence. Their attention rested on the flurry of activity of the police; each were tense, readied for the attack. He motioned to them and they quickly came to him. He took a deep breath.

    "It''s Falcon."

    Their reaction was grim. Every shoulder slumped; each pair of eyes glistened with fear.

    "Sullivan says Falcon is going to hit one of the surrounding hospitals," continued Zach, keeping his tone business-like. "How he knows this, I don''t know. He''s not being forthcoming with information. But it doesn''t matter. We''re going to stop Falcon."

    "But¡­" began Jacob tentatively. "Can we?"

    "Sullivan expects us to," said Zach, unable to keep the bitterness out of his tone. Drake''s expression darkened, while Hikaru closed her eyes briefly. "Look, it doesn''t matter. We can do this," he said, trying to put strength and confidence into his tone. "I know we can."

    We have to ¨C we have no choice.

    "But I don''t understand," said Drake, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Why these specific hospitals? What''s so special about them? And what makes them think he''ll hit one of these?"

    "I don''t know," said Zach, shaking his head. "Sullivan wasn''t in the mood for questions."

    "Hey¡­ something doesn''t feel right," said Brielle, leaning in closer.

    "Do you feel something?" asked Zach; his breath caught in his chest. "Do you think you could find the bombs from this distance?"

    Brielle looked around; her head lifted into the air and glanced at the sky. She bit her lower lip. After a moment, she looked back at him. "No¡­ I can''t sense them. I just¡­ Something doesn''t feel right."

    It would be too dangerous to search for them now, too.

    "Bri''s right," said Sevati. "The earth beneath my feet¡­ It feels somewhat¡­ restless, I guess is what I''m going for ¨C it just doesn''t feel normal."

    Zach sighed.

    Five pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly. Zach knew what it meant: they would do whatever he said, even going against orders. Sullivan would brush off any tip that came from them. He wouldn''t move the entire operation based on a gut feeling from the girls.

    Their voices would not be heard.

    "All right, then," whispered Zach, breathing out slowly. "Keep an eye out for anything strange. You all have your ear pieces, right?" Heads nodded. "Grappling hooks?" Hands touched a black pouch at each hip. "Okay, we''re on the rooftops tonight. If you see Falcon, alert everyone."

    "What if he sees one of us?" asked Jacob.

    "He''ll fight you," said Zach without hesitating a beat. "But if that happens, you let the rest of us know. Survive and keep him busy. We''ll get to each other. Don''t you dare try to bring him down by yourself."

    Emotion stirred in every eye. It was going to be a long night.

    "Okay, split up," said Zach, clapping his hands. The others nodded and pulled out grappling hooks. The mechanism activated with a soft click. Four hooks were pointed upward. As four of his team members ascended into the rooftops, a hand touched Zach''s shoulder. He turned.

    "Everything will be all right," said Zach, wishing he had the power to fulfill that promise. A soft smile tugged at exposed lips. Hikaru nodded. With a steadying breath, she prepared her grappling hook and followed the others to the rooftops.

    Zach took a deep breath, meditating for a minute. Confidence flowed through his soul. Fortified, he removed his grappling hook and pointed it towards a different roof, shooting it into the air. It connected. He attached the cord to his suit belt. When everything was secure, he released the mechanism.

    A swooping sensation fell into Zach''s stomach. He didn''t always enjoy this weightless feeling, where there was no solid ground beneath his feet. Yet, there was something freeing about it, as if there wasn''t anything else in the world but himself. The fear that had plagued his heart slipped away with the ground. Zach took deep breaths as he came closer to the rooftop.

    I''ve got to stay focused. No time to be afraid.

    Once at the top, Zach stood a foot away from the edge and looked out at the horizon. The scenery on the rooftop always took his breath away. Bright lights illuminated the night sky. The city sparkled, tiny glowing dots brightening the heavens as far as the eye could see. Planes flew overhead, to and from the city''s airport. In the distance, the last of the daylight waned to the blue dusk of the evening. The city was filled with life. The sounds melded together, a clash of noise and chaos with a blend of peace and tranquility.

    Zach tore his gaze away from the horizon. He found a vantage point on the flat rooftop and knelt down. He blended within the shadows. He looked around, his eyes searching the other rooftops. Though the night was nearly upon them, he could catch a glimpse of movement.

    "Everyone in position?" whispered Zach.

    He received five affirmative answers.

    "Good. Be alert."

    Now came the hard part: staying there for hours. And on little sleep, yay us. Without a doubt, it was dull work, crouched in position for hours at a time. It was easy to lose one''s mind during these moments of endless waiting ¨C waiting for something bad to happen.

    Zach wasn''t sure how much time passed. He watched the darkness of the night, looking for anything out of the ordinary. His mind was clear of thoughts, his breathing slow. In this moment, he became what they wanted him and his team to be.

    An emotionless, mindless soldier.

    In the stillness of the night, it seemed nothing could happen. It was so quiet, despite the city life. It was so normal, despite six teenagers in black on the rooftops. It was so calm, despite the many police officers down below.

    But it wasn''t quiet. It wasn''t normal. It wasn''t calm.

    An explosion shattered the night.

 ELEVEN

    ELEVEN

    The building shuddered. Fire billowed into the night sky, flames blanketing the surrounding areas. Black smoke puffed into the sky; debris fell like smoky raindrops. A gust of hot wind blasted over Zach; the smell of smoke and fire assaulted his senses. He whirled away, waiting out the rush of intense heat.

    They had been right.

    They had been guarding the wrong hospitals. They had evacuated the wrong hospitals.

    They hadn''t saved those people.

    How many have died?

    Something moved in Zach''s eyesight. Fear slammed into his chest, choking the breath out of his throat.

    A shadow sat on a raised section on the rooftop; a pair of legs dangled over the ledge. A leg crossed over the other; an arm lazily rested over them while the other elbow leaned against a knee. A head settled against a hand.

    It can''t be¡­

    In a swift, fluid movement, the shadow unfolded its limbs and leapt down. It strode towards Zach, its steps elegant and precise. Sirens blared through the night; sounds of wild flickering flames lifted into the air; the acrid smell of smoke never wavered.

    And all the while, the shadow was calm within the chaos.

    It was a man.

    He was a number of inches taller than Zach''s five feet, seven inches. There was enough light to make out the dark blue suit; it appeared to be made of a similar material to Unit Twelve''s suits. It covered the man''s entire body. No skin showed. Two white sections, in exaggerated shapes of eyes, were on his face.

    Black lines decorated the man''s suit, forming complicated and elaborate patterns. The shadow turned slightly, as if to look out over the horizon. Zach sucked in his breath, catching a glimpse of the emblem on the man''s back.

    Falcon.

    A pair of wings spanned across the man''s upper torso, following upward along his shoulder blades. Intricate white lines created a detailed pattern.

    The one everyone feared¡­

    And he stood only a handful of feet away.

    "Beautiful night," said the man, looking towards the billowing blaze. His head turned; those unnatural eyes seemed to glow on his covered face. His head tilted to the side. "Wouldn''t you say?"

    "He''s here," whispered Zach, his heart leaping into his throat. A chill slid down his back. "Guys!" he shouted. "To me!"

    Zach darted forward; adrenaline exploded through his veins. The man''s head followed his movements. Zach threw a wild punch; a hand leisurely blocked the attack with ease. He attacked again. The man didn''t move his feet, blocking each punch with his arms.

    He''s powerful.

    He could tell in the brief encounter: the man had been trained in combat far exceeding Zach''s own training. It didn''t matter, though. I just have to keep his attention; wait for the others to arrive. It wasn''t lost on him that the man had been casually sitting on this roof, when a distant hospital had gone up in flames.

    It''d been a trap.

    Zach twisted, striking at the man''s side with his leg; it was blocked. He leapt back, putting some distance between them, and dropped into a crouch.

    I haven''t gotten him to move. This is insane!

    He hasn''t fought back, either.

    "You''re Falcon, right?"

    The man''s head cocked to the side. There was a pause. With a bolt, the man rushed at him.

    Zach gasped at the speed; he dropped into a roll. He couldn''t escape: a kick met his side; he blasted across the rooftop with a cry of pain. He rolled to a stop, groaning. He pushed himself to his knees and looked up to see the man standing over him.

    "You attacked without asking," said the man. An amused tone entered his voice. "I wonder¡­ What gave it away?"

    He''s so calm.

    Zach''s chest heaved for breath. His heart pounded out of his chest, sweat already accumulating at his temples; every part of his body felt hot from one short fight ¨C and the man was perfectly calm.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    What an arrogant¡ª

    "Probably the wings," the man mused, as if to himself. Those white inhuman shaped eyes looked down; there was an inquiring tilt of the head. "And who might you be, kid? You''re young, aren''t you?" There was a low sigh, almost inaudible. "They''re always young."

    Why was this man striking up a casual conversation?

    Zach shivered. There was something off about him. He could feel the man''s gaze, though hidden, as if it could strip his protective suit and reveal the truth: a vulnerable boy. He trembled, overwhelmed by the desire to run.

    There was an angry snort and the man shook his head. "Our government sure has fallen to an all new low if they have to hire a bunch of kids to do what used to be an adult''s job."

    Echoes of Sullivan''s berating voice bounced inside his mind, cruel words grating his self esteem into shreds. Irritation flooded through Zach''s chest. He growled, bolting to his feet. He threw a punch at the man''s face.

    "I''m not a kid!"

    Falcon stepped to the side; he slammed a hand down. Zach choked as pain flared in his back. He ducked into another roll, avoiding a kick. Zach leapt to his feet; he blocked a blow to the head with his arm. He sucked in his breath, the pain stronger than he had anticipated.

    "You''re all children ¨C every last one of you," said Falcon, a cold breeze entering his tone. "Unit Four has one of the youngest I''ve seen. I bet she wasn''t older than nine years old."

    I know.

    We all started that young.

    What do you know about us? What do you know about what we''ve gone through, what has been taken from us, what we''ve sacrificed? You''re acting all self righteous when you just killed a hundred people or more.

    How dare you!

    Zach cleared his mind; trained instinct took over.

    He fought with everything he had, his attacks reactive; he couldn''t keep up. His only hope was to survive, to distract ¨C wait for backup and hope beyond all hope they had a chance together. He had never fought someone like this before. With each punch and each kick, it became glaringly apparent: the man was holding back.

    "Do you even eat, kid?" asked Falcon, blocking a punch with the palm of his hand. Fingers clamped over Zach''s fist, locking him into a tight hold. Before he could struggle, the man jerked him forward; Zach smashed into the firm chest. A hand grabbed his shoulder; there was a low chuckle. "I could break you in half. You''re a just twig. You really should eat more ¨C you know, build that muscle."

    Heat rushed into Zach''s face, anger and embarrassment overflowing his senses.

    He''s messing with me!

    Zach twisted halfway, his shoulder pressing into the man''s chest. With a shouting cry, Zach pulled on his arm, heaving the man overhead. There was a whump; the man landed on his back. Zach leapt onto the man''s chest, straddling him, and punched in him the face. He pulled back his fist; Zach stilled. He''s laughing! Chuckles became deeper, flowing into condescending, low laughter.

    "Is that all you got?" drawled Falcon; silk laced along his tone. "Is that really your strongest punch?" He laughed. "You hit like a child."

    Zach stiffened. Falcon slammed his hands into his chest, shoving him backwards. The breath died in his throat. He wheezed, dots popping in his eyesight. He couldn''t get his bearings; he was on his back. He curled onto his side, gasping for needed air. Zach pushed himself into a crouch and looked up, tensing for an attack.

    He''s just standing there¡­

    What does this man want?

    Zach attacked again. He landed a punch; but a kick threw him to the side. Zach rolled through it, settling into a crouch. Yet again, Falcon simply stood there, observing him.

    "What, no ''you hit like a girl'' taunts?" demanded Zach, stalling for time.

    Falcon let out that same irritating chuckle. "I think you mean ''you hit like a child.'' I''m not sexist, kid," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. He took slow strides towards him. "I should hope you''re not, too, or else you''ll never marry. No woman likes to marry a pig ¨C oh, they might find it sexy for a few dates, but they''ll get fed up quickly. Just a little dating advice. You''re about the age, aren''t you? Or does this generation not date any more? Ah, yes, ''hanging out,'' isn''t that what it''s called?"

    Zach''s jaw dropped. The man had even used air quotes. It was ludicrous ¨C absolutely ludicrous. He could''ve sworn the man would''ve talked the night away if he could.

    What the heck? Who is this guy?

    Falcon chuckled again, but before he could say anything more, a blast of fire rushed towards him. The man dodged the attack. Relief bloomed inside Zach''s chest. Backup. His relief grew as Drake, Brielle, and Sevati arrived. A hand touched his shoulder.

    Hikaru.

    We''re all here.

    "Chief, you all right?" asked Jacob, fire dancing around his hand.

    "Yes. Even better now," said Zach, standing up. He slid into a fighting stance. "Falcon, I''m giving you a chance to surrender. Give yourself up and we won''t hurt you."

    The man snorted. It quickly melded into full blown laughter. Chills shivered down Zach''s spine. Falcon put his hand over his heart, while he put the other to his forehead. His body bent over slightly in his laughter.

    "Are you actually serious, kid?" asked Falcon finally, through his laughter. "That was a joke, right?" It took him another moment to regain himself. He shook his head. "No?" There was another snort. "Why is it that those who can''t back up their own words demand the more skilled and powerful to stand down? It never makes sense to me."

    Zach gritted his teeth. This man truly thought he was more powerful than them. The truly frightening thing: the man probably was.

    Well, it was worth a shot.

    "You''re going down," said Zach, his voice unwavering. "We''re not afraid of you. We will stop you, no matter what."

    We have to try.

    "Hm, very well, then," said Falcon smoothly, confidence oozing through his tone. "You''ll just have to find out what all the other units found out¡ª"

    So fast.

    Zach couldn''t stop it.

    Falcon had broken off midsentence. He darted forward, stopping abruptly in front of Jacob, who gave out a squeak of surprise. The man grabbed him by the face, his hand covering it entirely.

    Jacob let out a scream.

    "Blaze!" shrieked Brielle.

    Then, just as quickly, it was over. The boy was tossed to the side, landing with a heavy thud. Zach bit his tongue; it wouldn''t do to scream out Jacob''s real name. The boy moved slightly, groaning. Relief once again flooded through Zach''s veins.

    He was okay.

    Jacob was okay.

    Fingers snapped. Flames blazed in a hand. "Pyrotechnics," Falcon said, lifting his hand in the air; the flames illuminated the eyes on his mask, giving it an ominous feel. "Excellent gift to have. I''ll be borrowing this for a bit."

    Jacob stared at the flames in Falcon''s hand, his eyes wide. He threw out a punch; no fire came from his fist.

    And then Zach knew ¨C knew exactly how this man had fought against trained units with powers and won. It wasn''t just his immense training, his physical prowess ¨C no, this man had a power, an ability, one Zach had never seen nor heard of ever before.

    This man could steal their powers.

 TWELVE

    <h1 style="text-align: center">TWELVE</h1>

    Well, frick.

    Are you kidding me?!

    The theft¡­ It couldn¡¯t be permanent, right? It can¡¯t be¡­ or else Falcon would use powers from the other units. When would their powers return? More than likely, Falcon¡¯s control would fade over time.

    There has to be a timer. How long?

    Is there a limit to how many powers he can control?

    Why weren¡¯t we told about this?!

    Whatever the answer, one thing was clear: it crippled an attack against Falcon. It was no wonder the other units hadn¡¯t defeated this man ¨C stealing powers was one thing, but losing them during a fight was an entirely different duck.

    Quack. Quack.

    ¡°Bring him down!¡± shouted Zach.

    A fight ensued. Zach rushed in first, with Drake and Jacob following behind. The man blocked a punch, dodged another, and stopped a kick. Brielle shot an assortment of tiny metals at him. He avoided most; a few landed their mark, resulting in a few grunts. Sevati threw seeds onto the ground, plants instantly sprouting into vines. They tightened around his ankles; a flash of fire burned them away. He grunted again as something else struck him. As he dodged more attacks, his attention was on something else ¨C as if he were searching for something.

    He¡¯s looking for¡ª

    The man grabbed something in midair.

    Hikaru cried out, shimmering into view. Falcon had grabbed her by the face. She clutched at his wrist, her legs flailing out beneath herself. She sucked in her breath.

    ¡°Let her go!¡±

    ¡°There you are. I knew someone was missing,¡± said Falcon lightly, as if commenting on the weather. ¡°Invisibility. Interesting and useful, but unnecessary. Oh! A second power, healing abilities. You¡¯re lucky; that¡¯s quite a rare gift. Use it well.¡±

    He threw Hikaru to the side; she landed with a cry.

    ¡°Cloak!¡± shouted Zach. Hikaru sat up, glaring at the man, and disappeared from sight. What¡­? Falcon hadn¡¯t taken her power.

    But why?

    A limit, then. He has a limit.

    Good.

    There was a chuckle.

    ¡°You have such cute nicknames, don¡¯t you?¡± said Falcon. ¡°Now that¡¯s something the other units didn¡¯t have. Doesn¡¯t that break your little protocol or something? Won¡¯t you get into trouble? Especially since they don¡¯t like it when you don¡¯t conform.¡±

    This man¡­ he knows things.

    Who is he?

    Drake let out a roar, rushing at the man. His punches were heavy and frequent, but Falcon dodged every attack. Sevati threw more seeds onto the ground, bringing her arms upward. Numerous tree trunks burst forth, quickly sprouting upward, until they towered over everyone. Flowers bloomed, before transforming.

    A smirk lifted her mouth, eyes lighting with mischief.

    Countless coconuts launched at Falcon. The man darted out of the way. The coconuts didn¡¯t let up; hundreds of them shot through the air, striking the rooftop with a thud as they missed their target.

    ¡°Plant manipulation. Now that¡¯s an annoying one,¡± said Falcon, moving with the elegance of a panther. He avoided most of the coconuts, until one smashed into his stomach; he growled in annoyance. ¡°Enough of this.¡±

    He snapped his fingers; flamed flashed forward, burning down the coconut trees in a blaze. Sevati rolled out of the way of the flames. Brielle never eased up on her attacks, her small metals chasing the man as he dodged attacks from the others.

    Falcon rushed at Brielle, catching her by the face. His hand clamped down. She screamed beneath his hold, wriggling and thrashing against his hand.

    ¡°Spark!¡± cried Drake.

    The scene paralyzed Zach. She was terrified, but he couldn¡¯t do anything. They were outmatched. One man outmatched all of them put together.

    ¡°Technopathy mixed with empathy,¡± said Falcon, sounding intrigued. ¡°Unusual combination. Useful, but unnecessary.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    He tossed Brielle aside like she were a rag doll. Falcon bolted through the group of Zach, Hikaru, and Jacob. Zach whirled around, trying to slow the man down. Too late. Falcon grabbed Drake next. A moment later, the man threw him to the side; Drake landed with a low cry of pain.

    Falcon flexed his hand, nodding slightly. ¡°Super strength, I thought so. Standard ability. Yes, I think I¡¯ll be taking this one,¡± he said. He looked around the group. ¡°Well, this has been interesting, kids. But I¡¯m afraid I must speed this up. Places to be, you see.¡±

    They couldn¡¯t stop him.

    He was helpless, unable to stop the man as he took out each of Zach¡¯s friends. Falcon made quick work of the others, leaving him last ¨C he dodged Zach at every turn. Whether a punch to the gut or a jab to the neck, each member of Unit Twelve went down with a low groan.

    It¡¯s okay.

    They¡¯re alive.

    He didn¡¯t kill them.

    ¡°And, finally, the little Chief,¡± said Falcon, stepping towards him. Zach took a step back, his throat dry; he swallowed. ¡°I¡¯m always fascinated by the leaders of these units. I must say¡­ I¡¯m curious about what ability you have. What makes you more special than your teammates, hm? What makes you a leader?¡±

    It was over. They had lost. Just like the units before them, they couldn¡¯t do anything against this man. He was too powerful, too trained, too something. It¡¯d been foolish to imagine they¡¯d have a chance. Had the other leaders of their respective units felt this way? Had they felt this paralyzing fear?

    But¡­

    In the face of that fear, Zach wouldn¡¯t back down. He slid into a fighting stance. If he had to go down, then he was going to go down fighting.

    ¡°Powers are useless against you,¡± said Zach, his voice calm. ¡°So, I¡¯ll stop you with my bare hands.¡±

    ¡°I hold two of your units¡¯ powers,¡± said Falcon, flexing his left hand, while lighting his right hand on fire. ¡°Strength alone could take you out in a second ¨C in fact, if I didn¡¯t hold back, I could punch right through your heart¡­ You probably wouldn¡¯t feel a thing when you took your last breath.¡±

    Icy chills slid through Zach¡¯s heart, slipping down his spine into his stomach. The fear burst in his chest.

    And I wouldn¡¯t be able to stop him.

    ¡°But it would pain me to kill one so young. You should consider yourself lucky that I¡¯m not going to kill you or your little unit buddies.¡±

    If he wanted to, he could kill me.

    And I¡¯d be powerless against him.

    ¡°Why, thank you,¡± hissed Zach. ¡°How nice of you to let me live. But what about the others?¡± He jabbed a finger towards the billowing fire in the distance. His tone skyrocketed. ¡°Where was your benevolence when you blew up that hospital?!¡± he shouted, his voice cracking. ¡°You¡¯ve killed tons of people. What do I matter in the midst of those deaths?¡±

    It gripped his throat, this fear. It would choke the life from his lungs, suffocate his mental clarity ¨C this was something far more than he¡¯d ever experienced before.

    Yes, sometimes people died at the hands of criminals. Yes, bad things happened ¨C things Zach and his friends didn¡¯t have the power to prevent. But this was different. This was new. This was scary ¨C oh, was this terrifying beyond all measure. This man was on a different level. His mere presence attested something much more than a common robber wearing a hockey mask.

    This was a true villain.

    A crazed fanatic in the pursuit of a goal.

    ¡°One hundred twenty-four to be exact,¡± said Falcon with a detached air, his head tilted to the side slightly. ¡°Tonight¡¯s mark, at least.¡±

    The wind disappeared from his stomach, sucking away the breath from his lungs. Zach stared at the man, horror pouring through his soul.

    Why does he¡­

    Why does he know that?

    ¡°How could you kill that many people?¡± shouted Zach, so loud it felt as if his throat would tear. ¡°How can you stand there and casually not care that you just tore a hundred and twenty-four people from this world!¡±

    The man stilled. His head slowly lifted. The man bolted forward at terrible speed. Zach smashed into the ledge of the roof, a cough blasting from his mouth. A gloved hand tightened around his throat; his airway closed. Stars popped in his sight; pain ravaged his back.

    As the pressure on his neck lessened enough to breathe, a silky, dark voice entered his ear. He gasped; the man¡¯s presence was indominable.

    ¡°Forty-three women and eighty-one men,¡± whispered Falcon.

    His feet dangled uselessly. Zach tried to claw at the hand around his throat, but it was unbending. Sweat beaded down his temples beneath his mask, sliding down his cheeks; his entire body felt hot with perspiration. His hands twisted and pulled at the man¡¯s covered wrist.

    It was immovable, like iron.

    ¡°That¡¯s who worked there,¡± whispered Falcon, his voice soft and unnerving. ¡°A bit skewed in the gender department, but that¡¯s another story. Next time, get your facts straight before you start spewing nonsense like an uninformed brat.¡±

    Zach bristled. He struggled more, flailing with vigor against the hold ¨C all in vain.

    ¡°You sick psycho!¡± rasped Zach; stars popped brighter. ¡°Don¡¯t act like I offended you. You¡¯re the one who killed them.¡±

    ¡°Would you like me to give you their names?¡± whispered Falcon, that hand tightening its hold. There was a croaky gasp for breath; the flailing of limbs weakened. ¡°I can give you every name. I can tell you about their husbands or wives, if married. I can tell you about their children. A few even have grandchildren.¡±

    All life slipped away. Zach stopped struggling. He stared at those unnatural white eyes in chilled confusion. The attacks had all been premeditated. Why would this man put that much effort into knowing the people he was going to kill? It didn¡¯t make any sense.

    This man wasn¡¯t just insane; he had killed with a purpose.

    ¡°Why?¡± whispered Zach, his voice trembling. It felt so timid. He¡¯s going to kill me, after all¡­ isn¡¯t he? There was a long pause after his question. ¡°Why?¡±

    The man¡¯s other hand covered his face. His fingers dug into the mask. Zach didn¡¯t fight; he couldn¡¯t fight. Will he crush my skull?There was a current of power, tiny static shocks bursting into his skin.

    Was he trying to steal something that wasn¡¯t there any more?

    I¡¯m so sorry, guys.

    There was a sharp intake of breath. The hand pulled away.

    ¡°A little hero like you could never understand.¡±

    The pressure gripping his neck disappeared. Zach fell to the rooftop, pain rippling through his body. He coughed and wheezed, his lungs gasping for breath.

    ¡°I suggest you tell your chief of police that Falcon¡¯s in town. I won¡¯t leave until my objective has been complete. Until next time, little Chief.¡±

    It took Zach a minute to breathe normally. He glanced up, eyes searching; his coughing didn¡¯t stop. The air was rich with the scent of smoke. The night was lighted with the flickering flames in the distance, the stars blackened with smoke.

    Falcon was gone.

 THIRTEEN

    THIRTEEN

    Two palms struck the surface of the desk. Six teens flinched. The desk shook, pencils and pens rattling dangerously. The deafening sound echoed through the room.

    "How could you let him get away!" shouted Sullivan. His nostrils flared. "Do you have any idea how many are dead because of this man? Over a hundred. All you had to do was catch him and you couldn''t even do that!"

    One hundred and twenty-four.

    What a haunting number. Zach couldn''t stop himself from imagining the faces of those who had been killed. Their faint reflections twisted within his psyche like milky white ghosts.

    Falcon had known the exact number of people inside that hospital, even with the evacuations. He had made it his business to know. But why put that much effort into it? What was the motive behind knowing the victims ¨C and to such an extent? Why hadn''t he killed Zach or his friends? Or any of the units?

    Are the hospitals and clinics not the real target? He had researched those people, said he knew their names and their families. And I believe him. So, if the people were the target¡­

    Then, who were they?

    "You." Sullivan pointed to Jacob. The boy sucked in his breath, his eyes wide with fright, and sunk lower in his chair. Zach stiffened, fury rising in his chest. How dare he single out Jacob. "What happened? What were you doing during all this?"

    Jacob opened his mouth. A strangled, whimper of a sound scraped through his throat. Hands slammed against the desk again.

    "Answer me!"

    The boy squeaked.

    Zach stood up, his chair pushing back. He glared down at Sullivan. The man turned, ever so slowly, towards him, his eyes narrowing.

    "Three had his powers stolen by Falcon, sir," said Zach. "Two had his stolen as well. It was impossible to win. Falcon seemed interested in all of our powers. It was obvious that he''s done this before." He drew in a deep breath. Sullivan''s expression darkened, but Zach plowed on; his tone dropped, turning frigid. "Why weren''t we informed about this? Taking our powers away even for a short time is going to cripple the team. How could we stop him when the other units couldn''t either?"

    A frightening light entered those grey eyes.

    "Two through Six, you''re dismissed. Get out."

    Zach gritted his teeth. Even unmasked, they were just numbers. We have names, you know. He could feel his friends'' hesitancies without looking at them. Smug satisfaction rose inside his chest.

    "Guys, obey Chief Sullivan."

    Chairs pushed against the floor. Sullivan''s nostrils flared again, his eyes flashing with repressed fury. Exactly. My team obeys me, not you, Sullivan. It was a dangerous thought, but he didn''t care. Sullivan had withheld vital information about Falcon. Granted, even with it, they would''ve failed ¨C but withholding information indicated something else, perhaps even something sinister.

    And it pissed Zach off.

    He turned slightly, looking back as his friends walked out of the office. Hikaru lagged behind. She reached out, touching him on the forearm. He smiled at her and put his hand over hers.

    "Go," whispered Zach softly.

    Her gaze slipped towards the man. Concern bled through those brown eyes, but she nodded and left the room. The door closed shut. Zach clenched his fists, looking at Sullivan with unwavering strength. His heart pounded. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, wishing he could exhale all the tension away.

    The man was disturbingly silent.

    What if Sullivan is holding back even more?

    And another thing¡­

    Why did Falcon have powers, an unknown power at that, in the first place? It didn''t sync with the timeline. The rise of those with powerful abilities had only begun in the past decade ¨C and only occurring before puberty. The man''s voice had been too deep, his height too tall, his physique too strong to be under the age of twenty.

    Something strange was going on.

    And Zach suspected Sullivan knew everything about it.

    "One, why are you here?" asked Sullivan in a low voice. There was a hint of mock incredulity. "What are you employed to do?

    Zach''s fists shook at his sides. "To stop criminals."

    "Tell me, then," continued Sullivan, the light in his eyes growing darker. "Why does Falcon still go free?"

    This is such bull.

    Of course, I want to stop Falcon. It''s not my fault he''s more powerful than an entire unit. Why is it just our responsibility to stop him? Where were you? Why didn''t you bring in other units?

    There were so many things you could''ve done.

    And you didn''t.

    Zach refused to break eye contact. He hated himself for his own weakness. Did Sullivan really have to point it out? Falcon''s haunting words were enough. They echoed in his mind, taunting his efforts.

    "Falcon was too powerful."

    "No!" hissed Sullivan. "Why does Falcon still go free?"

    Why did this man always have to mention all his shortcomings and errors? He never gave Zach and his friends a break. He expected perfection from a bunch of teenagers. He expected a level of performance from them that was far higher than from his own officers.

    And that hateful look¡­

    Well, one didn''t have to be from a different race to be racist.

    Children suddenly having powerful gifts ¨C yes, they were something to be feared. But they were still human beings. Yet, the government treated them like property. Children were stolen from their parents; parents were stolen from their children. It was a cruel, deplorable system from which the country turned a blind eye.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    The world expected them to be powerful soldiers, something that took adults ¨C ones who volunteered to be so ¨C years to become. Just because they had powers, they expected children to be of the same cloth ¨C and all the while, they had no adult to turn to for support.

    They were just kids.

    Falcon is right¡­

    They were expected to perform like adults. They were expected to perform with perfection, with no mistakes to their names whatsoever ¨C even during this sacred time of adolescence, a precious time reserved to learn from mistakes and to receive guidance from those wiser and older. Yet, that wasn''t available to them. They weren''t allowed to mess up ¨C for if they did, everything was lost to them.

    Zach bore this pressure on his shoulders, this forced pressure from these disgraceful adults. There were no other options for him and his friends. These options had been stolen from them. Since his friends were all he had left, Zach would bear the burden proudly. Even with all their problems and crazy times, it was worth it.

    So, Zach gave the answer he knew this man wanted to hear.

    "Because of my incompetence," whispered Zach. "That''s why Falcon goes free."

    There was a pause. The air around him seemed to grow thicker, becoming heavy like molasses. Zach found it hard to breathe.

    "What have I told you about incompetence?" asked Sullivan, after another agonizing moment; his tone was foreboding.

    "Incompetence is unacceptable."

    He hated this man ¨C even more than he hated Falcon. The way Sullivan looked at him, it turned his stomach, making him feel like a bug that had soiled the man''s shoes. Why was it that Falcon ¨C the criminal, the murderer ¨C had acknowledged Zach''s youth and the injustice there?

    ''Do you even eat, kid?''

    ''You''re young, aren''t you? They''re always young.''

    ''You''re all children ¨C every last one of you.''

    ''Our government sure has fallen to an all new low if they have to hire a bunch of kids to do what used to be an adult''s job.''

    Why had Falcon showed compassion to a bunch of kids? How could someone like that see the truth? And why was Sullivan, the chief of police, incapable of such a thing?

    "So, why?" began Sullivan, his voice drawling in a dark lilt. "Why is it you still give me incompetence? You take the state''s money and you do nothing to deserve it."

    Whoa, wait a minute.

    Excuse me?!

    "Just a minute," hissed Zach. "Wait just one freakingsecond here," he snarled, glaring at the man. The anger exploded inside his chest, the injustice of everything bursting into fireworks. Before he could stop himself, he shouted, "First of all, I do not ''take'' the state''s money! They pay me ¨C pennies, by the way; we can''t afford anything ¨C to be their stupid hero and sec¡ª"

    Sullivan bolted to his feet, his chair slamming against the wall. A crack cut Zach''s tirade off, causing his head to blast to the side; he stumbled from the blow. His knee banged into the front of the desk before he could collect his balance. Pain flared up; his eyes watered.

    "You will speak to me with respect at all times!" shouted Sullivan, his voice harsh. "Remember your place, One!"

    Zach slowly looked at the man; his hand trembled to lift to his face, but he resisted it. There was nothing but disgust and contempt in the man''s eyes.

    The feeling is mutual.

    "You''re just a freak of nature," said Sullivan, his piercing words filled with hate. "You''re all just a bunch of worthless orphans. You''re not normal. You''re lucky to have this job. This is the only thing you''re good for ¨C remember that."

    Well, aren''t you just full of it?

    You created us orphans. We would''ve been more than happy to stay with our parents. Instead, you ripped our lives apart and then dare to tell us we''re worthless?

    Go to Hell.

    I''m sure you''ll get free admission at the gates.

    His cheek throbbed. The man had struck him hard enough to bruise. Wasn''t it so convenient there was no one who would question this man about striking a minor? No one would pity the poor little orphan.

    "Yes, sir," whispered Zach.

    He took a deep breath. He wasn''t going to let the man win. Zach wasn''t the only one who had shown so called ''incompetence'' tonight.

    "Sir, why wasn''t I told more about Falcon beforehand?" asked Zach, keeping his tone neutral.

    Sullivan regarded him for a moment, the disgust still emanating through his stance. The man averted eye contact by a small fraction. "We had no information to give you," he said.

    Zach narrowed his eyes. Liar. "Really? The other units fought him, didn''t they? Then, they would''ve reported the same thing. So¡­ Why wasn''t I told that Falcon had powers?"

    It was subtle. Something inside Sullivan''s expression gave it away. Was it smugness? There was the briefest lift of lips.

    He''s satisfied with something¡­

    An undeniably creepy sensation crawled up Zach''s spine. The last of his trust in the man, poor as it was, vanished.

    He knew.

    The man had known beforehand. Sullivan had purposely left information out. Did he want them to fail? Why was Sullivan purposely sabotaging them? Did he hate them that much?

    "Do you have anything else to report?"

    He''s not even going to acknowledge it.

    His body tensed; Zach inhaled. "No, sir."

    "Fine. You''re dismissed."

    "Yes, sir," whispered Zach. He turned, his chest twisting painfully. His steps felt heavy and ominous. The injustice was too strong. As he reached the door, the man called out to him once more.

    "Oh, and One?"

    Eyes closed in pain. Zach forced himself to turn back. Sullivan had taken his seat; his elbows leaned on the surface of the desk with his hands interlaced together.

    "Have your powers returned yet?"

    Ice froze his heart. His breath disappeared.

    He''d known all along, hadn''t he? As Zach met the man''s gaze, the truth became clear. Sullivan didn''t care about them. He wanted results. He wanted them to do their ''job'' and catch criminals. They weren''t humans. What they wanted didn''t matter.

    Sullivan wanted Unit Twelve to fail. He wanted to replace them. If One lost his powers, then a new leader would be required. One was replaceable. Two through Six were replaceable.

    Something broke inside Zach''s heart.

    "No, sir."

    "It hasn''t escaped my notice," said Sullivan, his eyes narrowing. "You''ve kept this information to yourself and that''s unacceptable. You have a month, One. Regain your powers or else Unit Twelve will be dissolved and assigned new members. Now get out of my sight."

    ''You have a month.''

    Zach fled the room. He leaned against the closed wooden door; he shut his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His cheek throbbed with dull pain.

    Time was running out.

    A month.

    That meant they had until a week into December. They wouldn''t even have another Christmas together. Zach dragged his hand over his head, gripping his hair. His fingers tightened into a fist, pulling out a few strands.

    Despair flooded his entire being. He squeezed his eyes shut. They burned. He had one month to figure out what to do. He wasn''t optimistic; his powers hadn''t resurfaced for months. He couldn''t depend on them returning.

    But they had to come back.

    He couldn''t lose his family again. Zach couldn''t bear to experience yet another family torn from his life. While in some ways, he didn''t want these powers, he needed them to come back. This couldn''t be the end of his friends.

    What would happen to them?

    Zach drew on a deep breath. He forced a smile on his face. He wouldn''t tell the others. It would ruin what precious time they had left. When the day came, then he would tell them, a smile on his face, and give them strength to keep moving on.

    Even if they never saw each other again.

    This was his duty, his burden, as their friend, their brother, and their leader.

    It was heavy, but he would carry it.

    Perhaps, there was a hint of hope, though. New determination flooded his soul. Zach wasn''t going to let Falcon escape. He was going to end this, one way or another. He would defeat Falcon. Zach would be there when next the man struck and he would take him down with devastating force. He would come up with the perfect plan to combat the man''s special abilities.

    Next time, Unit Twelve would not fail.

    And perhaps, a little mercy would be shown their way.

    Zach strode through the hallway. His thoughts flew in a whirlwind, but his determination was absolute. Once he turned the corner, his friends came into view. Exhaustion was apparent in each face.

    Hikaru leapt to her feet, rushing to his side. She stopped; her dark eyes glimmered with a gentle, pained light.

    "What is it?" asked Zach.

    Her hand lifted to his face. Hikaru touched his cheek; he winced as her gentle fingers touched the tender skin there. A glow illuminated her hand. The pain faded.

    "I''m fine," said Zach. "Thank you."

    "He hit you," whispered Hikaru. There was a nod. "How could he?" she asked; the betrayal bled through her tone.

    He didn''t answer her.

    "We did our best," said Zach, a cheerful grin brightening his features. He looked at each of them. "Luckily, it''s Saturday. We deserve some sleep, so let''s go home."

    Hope brightened in their countenances.

    And that was how Zach would lead them ¨C with a strong, yet forced smile.

 FOURTEEN

    FOURTEEN

    "All right, pause!" cried Drake, holding out a hand towards the television set.

    There was a loud, exasperated sigh. "Drake!" Brielle snapped. "Can''t you let me play in peace? This is the sixth time. I''ve only got two more days with the system and I wanna finish this game before I have to return it to the library."

    "Oh, come on," protested Drake in a passionate tone, his spiky blond hair brushing the carpet. He twirled the pencil in his outstretched hand with a flourish. "It''s the perfect time to get a snack. I''ll get this scene real quick."

    "Will you really be done by the time I get back? How can you even draw like that?" asked Brielle, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Drake gave her a lopsided grin, gesturing elaborately ¨C which just happened to be upside down, since the older teen had taken to sitting on the couch with his legs dangling over the back.

    "Is this the face that would lie to you?"

    There was a small snort from Sevati as she adjusted herself next to Drake. She didn''t look up from the notebook in her lap. She continued writing, her attention focused; though, she was perfectly aware of her surroundings.

    "What?" said Drake in a mocked tone of innocence. Brielle scoffed, handing the controller to Jacob, and marched off to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. "What''d I say?" he asked with more sincerity.

    Zach sighed to himself. It was difficult to get any work done with so many other people around and not enough places to be alone. There was no office and that meant distractions were a guarantee.

    He hunched over the small desk, staring at the spreadsheet listing all of their expenses. It wasn''t a pretty number. He tried to block out the other voices. His leg bounced. His fingers tapped against the wireless mouse of his government issued laptop.

    It''s gonna be a tight month. We''ll be able to afford a small Thanksgiving meal, but not much after that.

    Time passed. He wasn''t sure how much. A frantic voice tore him away from his work again. He looked up towards the source.

    "Hurry, Bri," cried Jacob, pounding on the door with a fist. He bounced in such a way that suggested his situation was quite urgent. "I gotta use the bathroom!"

    "Just give me a minute."

    "Hey, that minute is longer on this side of the door!" cried Jacob. He whimpered. His legs crossed in an awkward position; his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. He threw Zach a desperate look.

    "Can''t you get her out of there? I gotta go bad!"

    "I can see that," said Zach, his mouth twitching. It took a great deal of effort to hold back the snorting chuckle.

    "Zach!"

    "All right, chill, kiddo. She won''t be in there for long."

    "She''s been in there for an hour!" cried Jacob in agony.

    Wait, what? An hour?

    Zach checked the clock. Huh. He glanced over at the couch. Drake and Sevati were still sitting there. Drake paused his drawing, looking back at them.

    I wonder if she''s okay.

    "Sev, what''s up with Brielle?" asked Zach.

    The girl looked up from her notebook and shrugged. "She''s in the bathroom."

    "Brilliant. I had no idea," drawled Zach. He glanced over at the closed door. "Seriously, though, an hour? Is she okay? She''s not sick, is she?"

    "She''s thirteen now. She has issues," said Sevati, as if talking about the weather.

    Zach raised an eyebrow, frowning. What did age have to do with needing the bathroom for an entire hour? Was it something she ate? With an exasperated sigh, he spun in his chair slightly, before standing up. He came to Jacob''s side ¨C who was growing more desperate by the minute ¨C and knocked on the bathroom door.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    "Can you come out now? Jacob has to pee."

    "I said just a minute! Geez."

    There was another sigh, more annoyed this time. "Yeah, I don''t think we''ve got a minute. We got a potty dance on aisle twelve, so hurry up!" Zach said, rapping his knuckles against the wooden door. "He''s not gonna make it."

    "Hey!" squeaked Jacob, sounding thoroughly indignant ¨C and all the while, he bounced in that decidedly questionable way.

    "I hate my life!"

    Well, yeah. I''d hate mine, too, if I locked myself in the bathroom, thought Zach wryly.

    Jacob looked tormented. He bit his lip so hard, his eyes began to water. Well, this wasn''t good. The kid was about to blow at any minute.

    "Brielle, you have two seconds to open this door and let this poor kid pee or I''m sending Drake in. You can kiss future privacy goodbye."

    There was an anguished scream; the door burst open. Brielle marched out with arms folded and amber eyes alight with fury. She glared at Zach with such fire, it could''ve burnt half the city. Jacob rushed by, slamming the door shut behind himself.

    There was an audible sigh of relief.

    Zach chuckled. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to curb Brielle''s poor mood. She slammed another door and commenced brooding in the girls'' bedroom. Muffled complaining indicated the girl had begun venting her spleen onto the other occupant of the room. Zach sighed, pitying Hikaru''s ears. It was probably best not to bother Brielle; it''d be like poking a grouchy mother bear.

    "Hey, Sevati," began Zach, coming to stand behind the couch. He leaned against the back. "Brielle has been acting weird lately ¨C more moody, I guess. Is she all right?"

    "I told you, she''s thirteen."

    "That doesn''t explain anything. I don''t remember having this much angst at thirteen ¨C and Jacob''s twelve."

    "Mmm¡­" Sevati paused, before looking up at him. "Girls do have a harder time as teenagers. She''s come into her womanhood."

    Drake froze, while Zach frowned. He tried to make sense of the comment, but was only confused further. "You know I don''t speak girl code," he said, somewhat frustrated. "Can''t you spell it out for me?"

    Drake frantically shook his head. He made a slicing motion across his throat over and over again, his action growing more intense with each movement.

    "Are you really prepared for that answer?" asked Sevati, a wry smirk lifting her face. Drake''s actions became more frantic. Finally, he was waving both his hands in front, bouncing up and down on the couch.

    "Sev, just tell me, already."

    He regretted his curiosity.

    Sevati let out a low, almost sinister chuckle. "She got her period a month ago." Zach went bright red, his stomach swooping upward. Those brown eyes flashed with satisfaction. "This means she is currently experiencing the horrors and the mood swings that come with it. Please do not be alarmed by possible blood on her pants. You''ll need to budget extra money for pads ¨C or tampons. I dunno which she''s picking. Be gentle with her. She''ll hate the world and probably you. She''s going to be in pain and agony for a week. Each and every month."

    Sevati grinned.

    "There. Now you''re educated. Yay you."

    Drake slapped a hand over his face.

    "Whoa!" gasped Zach; his face burned with mortification. "TMI, too much information!"

    There was a dry laugh. "Well, you asked. You should know better than to open Pandora''s Box. You practically invited¡ª" Sevati almost purred her words. "¡ªme to open it." Her eyebrows lifted in a double smile. "That was fun. Let''s do this again. I dare you to ask me why Brielle needs to go shopping for a special, yet demonic item in a few months ¨C called a bra."

    Sevati turned back to her writing, leaving a sputtering, blushing Zach behind her. Drake gave him a pitying look, before clapping a supportive hand onto his arm.

    "Hey, can''t say I didn''t warn ya."

    "Yeah, but¡­" Zach flushed. "Why aren''t you embarrassed?"

    "I''m immune. The last time I asked, Sev was in one of those moods," said Drake. He shuddered. Sevati snorted smugly. "Ever since then, I can handle anything she dishes out. You got off lucky, man."

    That must''ve been some answer.

    Fortunately, he didn''t have more time to consider it.

    The bathroom door opened and a happy voice cried, "Zach!" A second later, Jacob leapt onto his back. Arms curled around his neck while legs wrapped around his waist. Zach leaned forward to support the weight. "Let''s get pizza!"

    "What? No. No pizza."

    The younger boy slid off and pouted, tugging on his arms. "Please!" Jacob begged, his green eyes blinking behind his glasses. "At least think about it for a minute."

    Zach sighed, shaking his head. "You know we can''t afford it, especially this month," he said. The young boy gave his best pout to date. Zach let out another sigh. "No, that''s not going to work. Don''t you want a Thanksgiving dinner?"

    "Please," said Jacob, drawing out the word for a long thirty seconds. The pout became ridiculous. Zach''s eyebrow twitched. He glanced at the other two, hoping for a smidgen of support. Drake and Sevati had reserved, yet hopeful expressions. Dang, no support. He let out one final sigh, lifting his hands into the air.

    "Fine. All right, but only the cheapest pizza in the city. No toppings, no extras, okay?"

    The boy whooped with delight, jumping into the air and dancing around the room, exclaiming, "Pizza! We get pizza!" He rushed to the girls'' bedroom and pounded on the door. "Bri, we''re gonna get pizza!"

    If we get take out, it''ll be under twenty bucks.

    It''s doable.

    It was only money, after all. Who cared if they couldn''t afford something as frivolous as pizza? It would be good for all of them. A fun outing would do them a world of good.

    And it was worth it, if the bright expression on Brielle''s face was anything to go by.

 FIFTEEN

    FIFTEEN

    Chattering animatedly amongst themselves, the six friends walked down the street towards a nearby pizza shop. Each one had a bounce in their step; though, the most excited were Jacob and Brielle. Laughter followed their playful skips. The sun shone brightly, the breeze gentle and light. The air was crisp and refreshing.

    Zach hung back somewhat, walking with his hands in his pockets. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fresh air. He really wanted to enjoy this with them, but he couldn''t shake off the misgivings floating around in his head. He could easily pinpoint the sources of these feelings, but it was more the overall effect they had on him.

    Lost.

    He''d managed for so long without the support of an adult. He wished he didn''t feel so darn lost, wanting someone to talk to ¨C someone who could offer wisdom and advice that came with age and experience. He wasn''t sure why he was missing it lately. Maybe it was the deadline. Maybe it was Falcon. Maybe it was the overwhelmingly helpless feeling that burned through every particle of his soul.

    Sure. Multiple choice? How about all of the above?

    Zach sighed, running a hand through his hair. Hikaru glanced back at him, concern on her face. He gave her a reassuring smile. She returned it and rejoined the chatter.

    She always knows¡­

    How she did it, Zach would never know. He was thankful she didn''t prod him further. If she pushed, he wondered if he would break. Would he tell her? Would he reveal this secret, like he''d done before with so many other things in his life?

    Or would he lie to her?

    Just this once?

    His thoughts were a chaotic mess. Zach walked with his head bowed, his eyes watching his footsteps. He bumped into a stronger body and stumbled backwards, almost falling to the ground ¨C if it hadn''t been for a pair of powerful hands clasping him by the shoulders and keeping him on his feet.

    He looked up. It was a tall man with wavy black hair. A hint of white could be seen at the roots, yet the man looked young enough to be in his thirties. His crystal blue eyes were the most intense feature on his face.

    "Are you all right?" asked the man. Zach nodded, unsettled. The man removed his hands and gave him a warm smile. "Deep in thought there?"

    "Sorry, I wasn''t paying attention," said Zach, taking a step back. "Thank you, though."

    "It''s quite all right," said the man. "We all have those days." The man studied him, so much so that Zach felt a little uncomfortable at the scrutiny. Before he could say anything about it, the man spoke up, "Have we met before?"

    Oh, probably mistaking him for someone else.

    "I doubt it, sir."

    "I''m sorry, it''s just¡­" The man paused, his eyebrows furrowing. A distant look entered his expression. His tone dropped. "You really look like someone I knew many years ago."

    There was such sadness within those eyes. They had the light of remembering a distant past and a loved one gone. Zach recognized it. The person this man saw in him had passed on. Compassion surged through his heart.

    "I''m sorry," whispered Zach.

    "There''s nothing to be sorry about." The man paused for a moment, seeming hesitant. "Just to be sure, if you don''t mind¡­ Would you tell me the name of your mother?"

    Should I?

    All right, this was a little weird; a complete and random stranger asking about his mother. But¡­ A part of Zach didn''t see the harm. On the outrageous off chance this man knew his mother, then Zach gained an old family friend ¨C a precious connection to the past. If this man was someone untrustworthy, it wasn''t like he could go after her.

    He couldn''t hurt the dead.

    "Abigail Bennet," whispered Zach, reverence in his voice. A swell of hope took him by surprise. He swallowed it back. "Ring any bells?"

    An Adam''s apple contracted.

    "No," breathed the man. A blank, stillness fell over the man''s face. With an exhale, it softened into disappointment. "I guess I was mistaken. I apologize. I didn''t mean to pry."

    Zach smiled. "You''re fine. I''m sorry to disappoint."

    The man let out a laugh. It was warm and Zach found he liked the sound of it ¨C rarely hearing something so gentle from an adult male. The man dropped a hand onto his head and ruffled his hair. Zach flushed, embarrassed.

    "Have a nice day, kid."

    The man lifted his hand as he walked away. Zach turned around, keeping his eyes trained on the man''s broad back. Zach couldn''t place it, but there was something familiar about him. Had he met him before? Even the man had wondered it himself¡­

    Where?

    Zach inhaled sharply. Hang on. He had seen that man before. Those eyes. Odd as it was, Zach had been able to pick the man out of a crowd because of those eyes. Small world. He''d seen him at the bank, when they had tried to save the hostages.

    Blood flashed inside his mind. Childlike screams filled his ears. Zach sucked in his breath and shoved the image away. He squeezed his eyes shut. He leaned against the brick wall of a street shop, exhaling with a shudder.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    A hand touched his lower arm.

    "Zach, what''s wrong?" whispered Hikaru.

    "Are you all right?"

    "What''s going on?"

    "You sick?"

    "Don''t throw up, bruh."

    "All right, shoo," said Hikaru, motioning the others away. "Give him some space."

    Zach laughed softly. He looked at his friends. The other four stood a few feet away, watching him with united concern.

    "I''m fine. I''ll catch up, all right?"

    Hikaru glanced back at the others and nodded. With hesitant movements, they turned away and began to walk ¨C very slowly ¨C down the sidewalk. Hikaru leaned in closer, studying him intently.

    "Are you sure you''re all right?"

    "I''m fine¡ªreally, I am."

    "No, you''re not," whispered Hikaru, frowning. "Something is troubling you. You''re more quiet than usual. You''re tense. What''s going on?"

    And she does it again.

    "I just¡­ I just have a lot of things on my mind, all right?"

    "Like Falcon?" whispered Hikaru, hushed.

    Zach stiffened. His insides churned. A taunting voice entered his mind once more, that horrible number ghosting through his vision. But another voice swept over it, ringing with a foreboding truth.

    ''You have a month, One.''

    ''Regain your powers.''

    ''Or else Unit Twelve will be dissolved and assigned new members.''

    "Yes, like Falcon," whispered Zach.

    She stood at his side, not pushing him further. She waited, giving him a chance to elaborate. Zach let out a tired exhale. Where do I begin? What do I say, without revealing the frightening truth? His mind could easily articulate what he wanted to say, but connecting his mind with his mouth was another skill altogether.

    "I dunno," whispered Zach. "Money''s tight ¨C that''s old news. Thanksgiving''s this month; Christmas is¡­" His voice dropped against his will. "¡­next month. The chief is always on my case¡ª" At this, the tender light in Hikaru''s eyes darkened. "¡ªand I always have to worry about whether things will change."

    And not for the better.

    "But Falcon¡ª" There was another sigh, more exasperated than the last. "He throws everything out of whack."

    The hand on his arm squeezed lightly. Such gentle care were in her eyes. His face tinged with heat. Before he could pull away, Hikaru drew him into an embrace, her arms tightening around his chest. His breath caught in his throat.

    "I don''t know what to do," whispered Zach, curling his arms around her. "Nothing ever seems to get better. I feel like I''m drowning."

    "It will get better," said Hikaru, the gentle lilt of her accent affecting her pronunciation. It was faint, almost unnoticeable, but Zach liked it. "It has to get better."

    "People always say that. It doesn''t make it true."

    "I know," said Hikaru, pulling back out of the hug. She smiled brightly at him. "But we''ve made it this far. We just have to hang in there and believe ¨C because if we don''t have hope, then there''s nothing to look forward to." She bumped his shoulder with a playful expression. "Like pizza for dinner."

    Zach snorted. "Wait, are you saying you''re the mastermind behind getting pizza today?"

    Hikaru stuck her tongue out at him, grinning mischievously. "I guess you''ll never know."

    He laughed. The two of them started walking again, quickly catching up with the others since they hadn''t gotten too far ahead.

    Zach was overcome with a deep wish. He wanted to slip his hand into hers. But he held back. They were in public, after all. The others might see, too ¨C and Drake was sure to rib him about it. He couldn''t hold her hand under the guise of being friends, right?

    Holding hands definitely meant something more.

    A gentle touch slipped into his hand. Fingers plied through his own, spreading them apart and fitting perfectly there. Heat flared inside his cheeks. He glanced over at Hikaru, but she deliberately didn''t look at him. She walked, face towards the horizon, each step taken with strength.

    But there was a light squeeze.

    His heart fluttered. Zach enjoyed the warmth. She was his rock, his foundation, the one person who kept him sane. He heard the thoughts of her heart through her hand, thoughts only spoken of through such touch.

    She would stay at his side, supporting him.

    They broke apart before they reached the pizza shop. Neither looked at the other; neither spoke of it; neither mentioned it to the others. They all gathered around one of the outside tables, while Zach went to order two large cheese pizzas. Once done, he took a seat next to Hikaru.

    He was able to forget, even for a moment. They were laughing, silly meaningful yet meaningless conversations about so many different things. Zach became lost in the stream, joining in with ease. Even when the pizzas arrived, there was little lull. Every last one of them chattered with full mouths, laughing more when someone''s food disgustingly fell out.

    It was fantastic.

    Maybe going out for pizza had been a great idea.

    It wasn''t long before both pizzas disappeared. Zach checked his wallet. There wasn''t a ton of money left. Oh, well. They were going to have to live on PB&J, white rice, and bananas for awhile or else no Thanksgiving dinner.

    "All right, guys," said Zach, standing up. "We need a few things from the store. You ready to go?"

    The store ¨C a convenient dollar general ¨C was a few blocks away. With full bellies, the conversation was soft and the walk slow. But it was wonderful and Zach''s spirits were lifted. As they walked inside the dollar store, he grabbed a cart. He stopped abruptly. His friends had surrounded him with identical looks on their faces. Zach instantly read it.

    "Oh, no," said Zach, shaking his head firmly. "We had pizza. We can''t get more stuff over budget. Okay, guys?"

    Five pairs of bright eyes blinked at him.

    Crap.

    Ah, screw it.

    "All right! All right," said Zach. He received five glowing expressions for his troubles. "Two bucks a piece. Go!"

    Jacob and Brielle whooped, high fiving each other. They darted away. With a grin, Drake was gone, while Sevati and Hikaru went off together.

    All right, ten more bucks to the bill. We can take that, right?

    Yeah, sure, Zach was letting them splurge. But come on! They were all kids. Something so small as two dollars shouldn''t bring a teenager this much joy, not in this day and age. Zach didn''t want to be the one who said ''no'' all the time. He wasn''t supposed to be the ''mean'' adult, the stingy parent.

    He was supposed to be a kid, too.

    They shouldn''t have to worry whether or not a bag of chips was in their budget. They shouldn''t have to worry about whether or not they could afford food for six growing teens, let alone healthy food. Worrying about such things was an adult''s burden. It was not meant for a child''s heart.

    Bananas and carrots were the cheapest produce he could find. Zach grabbed some white bread. Yay for no nutrition. His biggest purchase was a large bag of white rice, but that would last them for the rest of the month. As he shopped through the store, one of the others would come up to the cart and put something inside.

    Hikaru dropped off two packs of hair bands. The two older girls broke their hair bands frequently due to their long thick hair. Drake put in a bag of potato chips and a sketchbook. Sevati got a large bag of animal crackers and a notebook.

    Brielle took the longest. She perused the book aisle, carefully flipping through page after page of different books. Jacob was in the same row, but looking at something else. He shyly glanced over at Zach, who ¨C understanding instantly ¨C gave him an encouraging thumbs up. Shyness faded, Jacob put a tray of cookies and a small stuffed toy, which looked like a little brown bird, into the cart.

    Once Brielle picked a book, she gently placed it at the top. A tug on his t-shirt pulled Zach''s attention.

    "I''ll share my cookies with you," whispered Jacob.

    Zach smiled at the young boy and ruffled his hair. The others quietly gave him a similar look: all food was to be shared. Zach went to the checkout, lightness in his heart. They each supported him in their own way. No matter the stress he had to deal with, he had his friends.

    His family.

    But it didn''t stop a memory from cruelly tainting the moment.

    ''¡­a month, One.''

    ''You have a month.''

 SIXTEEN

    SIXTEEN

    Falcon had been disturbingly silent.

    There were less people than usual at the large park within central Templeton Hills. Zach leaned against the park bench, catching his breath. Laughter played in his ears, voices interwoven in their melody, as his friends engaged in their carefree game of tag. His head tipped backwards all the way; he gazed at the nearby street. The skyrise of the city was upside down at this view point. There weren''t many people on the sidewalks.

    Sighing, Zach lifted his head and watched his friends. A wave of dizziness struck. He drew a knee to his chest and rested an arm there, putting a hand to his forehead. Nausea flooded over his senses; his hand slid over his mouth.

    Good thing I skipped lunch.

    Though Hikaru had given him a disapproving look, he had managed to get away with not eating. Zach swore it was one of her life goals to fatten them all up. If anyone of them skipped a meal, Hikaru always seemed to take great personal offense at it.

    He hated disappointing her.

    Zach sighed, pulling out a hard candy out of his pocket and unwrapping it. He popped it into his mouth, stuffing the wrapper back inside his pocket. So long as he controlled his sugar levels, his emotions would stay in check. He could eat later. Maybe his appetite would be better around dinner time.

    He doubted it.

    More than likely, his lack of appetite had something to do with his sleepless nights. Though he wasn''t sure which had come first ¨C at any rate, sleeping through the night had become a thing of the past.

    He was just as on edge as the rest of this city.

    A little over a week had gone by since that first attack by Falcon. There were no more sightings, no more little teasers about where the criminal would strike next, no more news ¨C all information had ceased.

    Radio silence.

    Zach rubbed the goosebumps on his arms.

    It was impossible to evacuate all of the clinics and hospitals. They couldn''t shuffle people back and forth between facilities, wondering when an attack would strike next. One of the larger clinics, which was about a block away from this park, had been evacuated; but the hospital a few blocks further down the street hadn''t been evacuated.

    He couldn''t stop thinking about all the possibilities. He couldn''t stop thinking about the next fight, the next encounter. His phone had buzzed twice since that first fight and both times he''d been powerless against the fear that clawed at his heart and gripped his soul.

    Is this it?

    Is it Falcon this time?

    His lack of appetite and sleepless nights had an even deeper root. Maybe if he stopped having disturbing nightmares about Falcon killing his team, maybe if he stopped having nightmares about losing his friends ¨C maybe if everything stopped seeping into his dreams, then maybe he''d have a normal night''s sleep.

    Just maybe. It was a slight possibility. Mmm.

    If he stopped thinking about Falcon, then maybe he could have some semblance of normalcy once again.

    Zach snorted to himself. As if that would happen. No, his mind would continue to race with new plans, potential ways of bringing Falcon down ¨C but they were useless within his nightmares. He would continue to lie awake at night, staring up at the ceiling, staring at his mother''s painting on the wall, staring into the unknown and praying he could come out the victor.

    It was better to be proactive.

    Someone slumped onto the bench beside him; there was a loud exhale of breath and a low whistle.

    "Can''t believe they can still go at it," said Drake, nudging Zach and motioning towards the youngest two. Brielle and Jacob were still playing, abandoning Hikaru and Sevati on the grass; they chased each other with loud laughter in their wake.

    "You sound like an old man," said Zach with a chuckle. He lightly punched Drake in the arm.

    They fell into companionable silence, watching the others play for a time. After five minutes or so, Drake nudged him softly again. Zach looked at him; he grew nervous at the expression on Drake''s face.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    "So, what''s going on with you?" whispered Drake.

    His breath caught in his throat. Zach swallowed. "What are you talking about?"

    "Oh, come off it," said Drake, sounding frustrated. He glanced at the others before dropping his voice. "You know I can tell whether or not you''re asleep by now, right? You''ve barely slept. You haven''t eaten much and, honestly, I''m shocked Hikaru hasn''t come down on ya like a Norse god or something for missing meals. So, what''s up?"

    ''Have your powers returned yet?''

    ''¡­freak of nature.''

    ''¡­lucky to have this job.''

    ''A little hero like you could never understand.''

    "Zach, hey, are you all right?" asked Drake, more urgent now. He gently pushed Zach on the shoulder, worry lighting within his eyes. "You''re pale. Are you sick?"

    Zach blinked, voices echoing in his mind with the destructive lure of a Siren''s call. He smiled wanly. Drake''s lips thinned.

    "I''m fine."

    "Bullshit."

    Zach raised an eyebrow, almost impressed by his courage. Hikaru had the ears of a hound. Drake glanced at her, nervous guilt on his face. When it was apparent she hadn''t heard him, he looked back at Zach with a relieved sigh.

    "Bull crap," Drake amended with a flush. "Look, I know you like to bottle things up like this, but I really hate it, Zach." There was a pause; he ran a hand through his hair. "It scares me," Drake whispered.

    Zach didn''t answer immediately. He looked away. His eyes singled onto a billboard sign that glowed in the distance; ads interchanged every few seconds. An ad for parents came next: "Protect your future children from genetic diseases¡­ Genetic Modification: Children of the Future."

    The ad ended with the address of the clinic, which happened to be nearby.

    Smoke and flames billowed in the distance.

    ''One hundred twenty-four to be exact.''

    Will he crush my skull?

    Zach sucked in his breath, dragging his gaze away from the billboard. Drake''s hand was over his wrist. He didn''t remember when the other boy had placed it there. He patted the hand lightly, trying to collect his thoughts.

    "I have a lot on my mind," whispered Zach, looking back at Drake. The other boy had grown more alarmed. Zach sighed. "I''m sorry. You''re right. I haven''t been sleeping and it''s affecting me. I''m just really tired all the time now."

    Drake studied him, his eyes hard with their scrutiny. He blew out a huff of air through his mouth, his throat grunting with annoyance.

    "You''re not going to tell me, are you?" whispered Drake.

    "No, I''m not," said Zach softly.

    "You can talk to me. You know that, right?"

    "I know."

    "Then, why?" asked Drake, a hint of sadness in his voice.

    "I know it looks bad now," whispered Zach. "But it will get better. I''ll take care of it, I promise."

    Liar.

    You''re lying to him. You can''t fix anything. Stop lying. Tell him. Tell them. Stop holding back and¡ª

    "And I''ll take better care of myself," said Zach, forcing a grin to lift his face. "Once things settle down, I swear things won''t be so weird with me. All right? Trust me."

    Trust a liar?

    You''re hilarious.

    "It''s nothing a good sleep and a good meal won''t fix," said Zach, his fake grin becoming more believable.

    "It''s about Falcon, isn''t it?"

    "No, I don''t think the Falcon problem will be solved with food."

    They stared at each other for a long moment, before they both burst into laughter. The tension slid away, like cool water quenching the thirst.

    You can''t lie forever.

    Oh, but he was going to try.

    The laughter gradually died; the others stopped playing. Warmth encapsulated his side; hands slid around his arm. A head rested against his upper shoulder, bringing with it the familiar scent of Hikaru''s shampoo. Drake slowly smirked at him. His eyebrows bobbed up and down.

    Zach ignored him.

    The others shuffled forward, gathering around each other at the bench. Brielle crouched in front and prodded Zach''s forehead, keeping her finger poised for another poke.

    "It''s not as much fun without you," said Brielle with a haughty sniff. There was a light flush to her face.

    Zach smiled.

    Emotion rose in his chest. His jaw clenched.

    He stood up, taking a moment to stretch his limbs. He wasn''t going to break down. Not now. Not ever. Not in front of them. He ruffled Jacob''s hair. He grinned at the others.

    "I dunno about you guys, but I hear some mac and cheese calling my name."

    As they walked home, the sun slowly waned across the horizon. The chatter of six teens added to the cacophony of the car filled streets. An ambulance sped by.

    The air shattered. A blast blew over them. The ground shook beneath their feet. Screams warbled inside Zach''s ringing ears.

    His friends¡­

    Screeching tires, honking horns, shattering glass ¨C they crashed together with ear splitting proportions. In the chaos, Zach grabbed the nearest two and jerked them down to the ground; the others followed like dominos. The sound of flickering flames licked his ears; smoke and fire clogged his senses.

    Glass struck the ground. A second explosion shook the evening. More screams. More chaos. Everything was happening so fast, yet time came to a brutal halt. There was a crackling noise nearby; it snapped. There was a tremendous, thunderous crash.

    Debris came down all around them. In the disorder, Zach lost sight of all of his friends. He slammed a hand over his mouth and nose, coughing through the smoke. He groped through the smoke, trying to get clear of it. As he broke through, he gasped for breath, choking. His eyes burned. He quickly looked around.

    The building closest had been old, made of faded bricks. The entire side of the wall had fallen, sections of brick lay scattered across the area and the road.

    A rage of billowing black smoke and wild, untamable flames stood only two buildings down the street. If they had been any closer¡­ They would''ve been at the danger zone. The heat was intense, meltingly hot as a desert sun. The warmth burned Zach''s face, even from this distance.

    The screams hadn''t faded. It''s the clinic¡­ Falcon had targeted the empty clinic. Empty¡­ Zach dragged his gaze away from the raging flames, with only one focus occupying his mind.

    Where are they? Where''re my friends?

 SEVENTEEN - Suffocating Consequences

    SEVENTEEN

    Screams.

    So many screams.

    The screams tore through his essence, sending shockwaves of fear through every vein. Dust clouded the sight, voices of terror filled the ears, smoke accosted the nose, and heat burned the eyes. Zach was disoriented. People clamored about, seeking, calling, crying for help.

    I have to find them.

    Be alive.

    Please, you guys, you have to be okay.

    Something creaked ominously overhead. It cracked with a snap. Zach could hear something falling; the dust was so thick, the air was so thick, he didn''t know where to go, where to dodge, where to¡ª

    A rough hand grabbed him by the arm. It jerked him back. He slammed into a flat chest and they toppled backwards. Zach landed hard on his arm.

    Drake? No¡ª

    BOOM.

    The earth shook as something struck the ground with enormous weight. Dust flumed upward. Zach rolled to the side and hunched over, choking. The others¡­ where¡­ are they okay¡­

    "Are you all right?" asked a voice. "Are you injured at all?"

    Hands grabbed him by the face, turning his head back and forth. Zach didn''t look at the man for a long moment. Something flashed in his eyes and he squeezed his eyes shut.

    "No concussion at least."

    Movement. Where and what, he didn''t know. Zach felt himself being pulled to his feet. He swayed; a hand steadied him. His lungs burned. Exhaustion threatened to unravel him. He should''ve eaten something; he should''ve slept; he should''ve been better prepared; he should''ve¡ª

    Dammit!

    Where is he? Where''s Falcon?! We have to collect ourselves. We have to go after him. We have to stop him before he escapes!

    A gentle, but a firm pat on the face brought Zach back to his senses. He blinked, looking up at his rescuer. The man was covered with dust, but his crystal blue eyes shone through the grime on his face.

    Zach frowned.

    Those eyes¡­ It''s that man I bumped into¡­

    "You''ve got a nasty wound on your arm," said the man. "You''re going into shock."

    "I''m fine," said Zach, his voice trembling and weak. Pain clouded his mind. His arm throbbed, blood trailing downward. He let out a shaky exhale of breath. "Thank you. You probably saved my life."

    He couldn''t stop the tremors. He couldn''t stop the adrenaline exhaustion. He needed to calm down. He needed to focus. He needed to put all of his energy into finding the others. They were fine. He was fine. Everyone was fine.

    We just need to regroup.

    Despite all of his previous training, he hadn''t been prepared for something like this. It was a completely different experience living through a catastrophic event than swooping in later as the ''so called'' heroes. They''d been so close to getting injured or worse ¨C the others could be hurt, even now.

    His heart thumped in his ears; it echoed so loudly he could barely hear. Panic flushed into his throat, mixing with the dust. He gasped.

    Please be okay, guys.

    "My friends¡­ My friends were with me," whispered Zach, glancing around. "I have to find them. I have to find them."

    He couldn''t stop the panic in his heart. A part of his mind screamed at him to calm down, but he couldn''t. Panicking wasn''t going to make his friends reappear. He knew that. Now if he could just get the rest of his body to figure that out¡­Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    "It''s okay. Calm down. We''ll find your friends."

    A hand on his shoulder steadied Zach, but he didn''t pay attention to it. His eyes were frantically searching.

    I can''t lose them, too.

    A voice broke through the chaos, a bright light shining through the darkness in his mind.

    "Zach?"

    He whirled around towards the source.

    "Hikaru!"

    He broke away from the hand on his shoulder and rushed forward. Hidden in the shadows, Hikaru was only a few paces away. She had fallen to the ground, slowly trying to sit up. Zach knelt at her side. As she looked at him, his hand slipped passed her cheek to hold the side of her neck. He could feel her quickened pulse against the palm of his hand.

    She was alive.

    "Are you all right?" asked Zach.

    She nodded; her chest rose and fell at an accelerated rate. Her eyes flittered back and forth at their surroundings. The dust, dirt, and grime clung to her face; sweat beaded at her temples. With his free hand, Zach brushed a thick strand of stray hair out of her face. His fingers lingered as they touched her cheek.

    "Are you sure you''re all right?" whispered Zach.

    "I''m all right," said Hikaru, her voice somewhat breathless. "What''s happening?"

    Zach shook his head, pulling away. He looked out over the chaos, the sounds of fire still flickering in the air. Sweat slipped down his face from the heat.

    "It''s him," whispered Zach. He glanced back at Hikaru. Fear laced through her brown eyes. "It''s him."

    "We were¡­"

    Too close.

    "Where are the others?" asked Hikaru, her voice rising in pitch. She made a move to get up, but the man knelt down beside her with a hand held up.

    "Wait a moment," said the man, lifting her chin to face him.

    "What are you doing?" asked Zach.

    "She might have a concussion. I''m no doctor, but I know the signs," said the man. He lifted a cell phone with the flashlight on. "Look into the light, dear."

    Hikaru''s lips thinned, but she looked into the light. Her pupils contracted as the light shone in her eyes. The man did this with both, before shutting the phone off and pocketing it. He withdrew his hand.

    "You don''t seem to have a concussion," said the man. "You don''t feel dizzy or confused, do you?"

    "No, I''m fine. Thank you," said Hikaru, shaking her head. "We have to find the others," she said, her voice desperate yet strong. She began to get to her feet. "Let''s go."

    Zach helped her up. Hikaru looked around, her features etched with pained fear.

    "How horrible," whispered Hikaru, drawing her arms around her chest. "How could someone do something like this?"

    The chaos rang in their ears. They tried looking for the others in the dusty fog, but their voices were drowned out by countless other people trying to find their own loved ones. Zach called out names, his voice growing hoarse. The man stayed with them, doing his best to aid them in their search.

    They still didn''t even get his name.

    Time slowed and stretched. It seemed like a century, but it was only after a few minutes when Zach caught sight of a small rustle in a section of nearby debris. He rushed to it. The rubble parted as plants flooded upward. A moment later, Sevati appeared, the plants pushing fallen stones away before they wilted to dust.

    "I only had time to protect Brielle," said Sevati, her voice breathless. The youngest girl popped up at this, looking quite shaken.

    "Hikaru!" cried Zach. "Sevati and Brielle are safe!"

    At the sound of his voice, Hikaru turned around. Relief bloomed in her face. She was at their side in a flash, the man quickly following after her. Zach pulled Sevati''s arm around his shoulders and helped her out of the rubble. Sevati winced and sucked in her breath.

    "It''s my ankle," whispered Sevati. "Nothing too bad, though."

    "Here. If I may," said the man, coming forward. With gentle hands, he pulled Sevati away from Zach and lifted her into his arms.

    "Are you hurt, Bri?" asked Hikaru

    Brielle shook her head. "Just¡­ Just a few scratches," she whispered, trembling. Her eyes were wide.

    Hikaru helped her out of the rubble, appearing torn as she eyed Sevati''s swelling ankle. If they''d been in uniform or were alone, she''d already have begun the healing process.

    But they had an eye witness. They were lucky as it was, since the man hadn''t seen how Sevati had protected Brielle. A civilian finding out was dangerous.

    Not for them, though.

    For the civilian.

    If this man found out and didn''t remain silent, he would disappear. Just like that girl at their school had disappeared.

    "Don''t put too much weight on that foot," said the man, as he lowered Sevati against a secure wall a number of feet away.

    "Thank you, sir."

    Brielle stood still, not moving any further. Her lips trembled as her arms clutched around her waist.

    "Brielle?" whispered Zach.

    She turned to him and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. She began to cry. He wrapped hisarms around her.

    "Shh, it''s okay," whispered Zach, tucking her head beneath his chin. Hikaru came to them and coaxed the young girl into her arms. Brielle didn''t protest. She clung to the new comfort offered her. Hikaru looked at Zach, her eyes filled with pleading. He nodded.

    Look for the others.

    It was another five minutes ¨C that seemed like hours ¨C before he heard something odd. A weak, muffled cry came somewhere nearby. Zach froze as he listened. The sound grew louder; he recognized it.

    "Drake!" cried Zach, moving closer to its source. "Drake, are you all right? Where are you?"

    The muffled sound became louder. Zach moved closer to it.

    "Drake, where are you?"

    There was a pause. Zach prayed they were all right, hoped beyond all hope he''d found them. A rush of deep gratitude poured through his heart when he got a reply.

    "Beneath¡­" started Drake. "Beneath a wall. I shielded Jacob. Something¡­ Something has pierced my leg, though." There was a weak chuckle. "Think it''s serious. Hurts too much."

    Zach''s mind raced. His hands brushed against the debris; it was too heavy to lift. Those two needed to get out. They could suffocate. How long would it be before help would come? Weren''t they supposed to be the heroes? Weren''t they supposed to be saving lives here? But¡­ When they failed, who would save them?

    There was only one solution.

    "Break through it," whispered Zach.

    Consequences be damned.

 EIGHTEEN - Whisper in the Flames

    EIGHTEEN

    "What?"

    "Drake, break through it," said Zach, his voice strong. Hikaru sucked in her breath, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. She clutched onto Brielle tighter.

    "Are you sure?" asked Drake.

    "Yes." Zach turned to the man, putting out a hand. "Sir, I need you to step back. It won''t be safe."

    The man narrowed his eyes, but he nodded. After they were far enough back, Zach gave the command.

    "Do it, Drake."

    He didn''t think about the repercussions. Their safety was all that mattered. He would sacrifice anything, cross any boundary, do whatever it took to save and protect his friends ¨C no matter what.

    A cry of power shouted beneath the rubble.

    The wall exploded apart. Drake burst forth. Beneath him, curled on the ground, was Jacob. Zach rushed forward, helping him out of the rubble. He was covered in dirt and soot; two trails along his cheeks revealed his tears. Once free of brick and stone, Jacob cradled his arm in his chest.

    "It hurts a lot," said Jacob, his voice catching. "I think it''s broken."

    Zach wrapped his arms around him; the boy began to sob in earnest. "That''s it," he whispered. "It''s all right."

    "Here, I''ll take him," said the man. He scooped Jacob into his arms with ease. Zach caught sight of Jacob''s wrist. It was swollen and bruised.

    "My leg," said Drake, his voice hissing once. His face contorted; he gritted his teeth. A long pole was embedded inside his leg. Blood pooled the ground. Though covered in dirt, Drake''s face was ghostly pale. His breathing was labored. "Hang on a minute, I''m gonna¡­"

    He grabbed the pole. Zach''s breath caught in his throat.

    "Drake, wait¡ª"

    A scream tore the air, just as Drake ripped the pole out of his leg. The pole clanged against the ground; Drake slumped back, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

    "Hikaru!" shouted Zach.

    There was no time to get Drake to a doctor or other medical aid. If he wasn''t healed immediately, losing the leg was the least of his worries: Drake would die.

    Hikaru and the man were at his side in seconds. Zach didn''t have time to contemplate how helpful this man was to them right now. With Zach and Hikaru''s help, the man pulled Drake out of the rubble, lifting him into his arms. In their wake, trails of blood dotted the ground. Once within the shadows of the alleyway, the man set Drake down to rest against a wall beside Sevati. Drake moaned, grimacing in pain. Jacob curled against Sevati''s side, while Brielle sat down next to him. Both Jacob and Brielle were shaking, watching the others with glazed eyes.

    Hikaru rushed to Drake, kneeling beside him and immediately starting the work of healing his leg. She removed debris and dirt from his flesh, getting the blood to stop soon after. A thin layer of healed skin was over the wound. Drake was still out of it, however. Once he was secure, she moved onto healing Jacob''s wrist.

    All the while, their visitor watched.

    "Sir, I must request that you speak of this experience to no one," said Zach, turning to the man. A solemn air rose among the group. The man''s eyes widened slightly as an eyebrow raised. "You know what we are, I''m sure, by now. I¡­" Zach let out a shaky breath. "I''d hate for something to happen to someone so kind like yourself. If the government gets wind of this, we''ll all be in a bad position."

    "Haven''t you heard?" asked Sevati in a light, yet ominous tone. "They make people disappear for a living."

    Zach nodded. "I''m not requesting this just for us," he said softly. "Yes, we''d get in trouble, but¡­ those who reveal anything about our identities go missing. We''ve seen it firsthand."

    A silence lifted between them. The chaos around them still raged on with a vengeance, yet within their group of six and a stranger there was an odd bubble encapsulating them.

    The man''s expression softened.

    "Now I am certain we''ve met before, said the man with a gentle smirk. The tension eased within Zach''s chest, slowly unknotting the pain of fear. "Fate must be directing our meetings, don''t you agree?"Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    Was she?

    The man stepped forward. "As we seem to be crossing paths often," he said. The man smiled and held out a hand. "Perhaps it''s wise to properly introduce myself: I''m Sebastian Hawke."

    Zach slowly extended his hand and clasped the larger one. A strong handshake was met. He stared at the man, stunned by the friendly gesture.

    "I''m not the type to go spreading secrets, especially something like this," said Hawke. "And I don''t want any trouble for you. You have it hard enough as it is."

    This man wasn''t abhorred by them.

    He knew what they were and he didn''t hate them, like everyone else had. There was an openness to him, which was so unlike the cold barrier that everyone held when speaking to any of them. It was such an overwhelming feeling of being accepted. It brought an intense wave of emotion through Zach''s being.

    He swallowed.

    Those eyes were filled with a trustworthy light. However, a powerful aura hovered around the man, forcing Zach to keep his guard up even though he didn''t want to do so.

    Was there really someone out there who didn''t view them as the enemy?

    "I''m Zach Bennet."

    The smile was tender. "It''s nice to meet you, Zach," Hawke said. Something flickered inside the man''s eyes, a deep sorrow. Uncomfortable, Zach was unsure what to say. "If I may, your parents?"

    Zach shook his head. He gritted his teeth. "We''re all we have."

    "I''m sorry," whispered Hawke.

    "We have each other and that''s all that matters," said Zach. "Our parents died years ago. It''s not a big deal."

    Are you sure about that?

    The man''s jaw clenched. For a long moment, Zach wondered if he had offended the man. However, a small smile loosened Hawke''s expression. He withdrew from the handshake.

    "Well, I can''t help but think you look like your mother. Hair as red as that must come from her."

    Zach inhaled sharply. "Uh, excuse me?" he asked, confused. Wait, hadn''t he said he didn''t know my Mom? Or is he just guessing?

    "But¡­ your eyes. Did they come from your father?"

    Becoming even more unsettled, Zach didn''t say anything. But he couldn''t pull his gaze away from the pair of intense, almost wistful eyes ¨C such emotion filled them.

    "I must be going," said Hawke. He glanced towards the others. "Will you and your friends be all right?"

    "Yes, thank you," said Zach in a low voice. "For everything."

    Hawke merely inclined his head. Zach watched intently as the man walked away. His gaze never left the broad back until it turned a corner to another block of the city. Confusion bled through every particle of his soul. It was foolish. The man wouldn''t lie about knowing his mother.

    Michael Bennet had hazel eyes; Abigail Bennet had green eyes.

    Wherever his eye color came from, it wasn''t directly from his father. Zach''s pair of blue eyes were more vibrant and crystalline in nature.

    An unknown chill slid down his back. It wasn''t from a gust of winter wind. He wriggled his back, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling in his chest. There were more pressing matters now than a weird, yet kind stranger.

    Hikaru was healing Sevati''s sprained ankle after finishing with Jacob''s wrist. Blessedly, they were the only ones in the small alleyway, so she could work unimpeded. Zach was about to move towards them, to be at their sides, when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered the unknown contact.

    "Hello?"

    There was a pause. Zach frowned, ready to end the call, when a smooth, deep voice cut through the silence. Goosebumps rose on his arms.

    "Ah, my little Chief. Having a pleasant afternoon, I hope?"

    Every muscle stilled inside Zach''s body. A chill raced down his spine. Zach whirled away from his friends; his jaw clenched. He took a moment to take a deep breath, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

    "I''m sorry, who is this?"

    His mouth went dry. He laced his tongue over his lips.

    "Oh, I think you know exactly who this is."

    His breath caught in his throat; his heart skipped a beat. It took Zach a long moment to regain his voice; the fear clutched at his chest with a fist of unbending steel. Zach hunched over, walking a number of yards away to gain some privacy and distance from his friends.

    "How the hell did you get my number, Falcon?" hissed Zach.

    "I have my ways."

    Frick.

    "What d''you want? Why are you calling me?"

    "Oh, I don''t know; did you enjoy my recent show? Bit of a blast, don''t you think?" There was a hollow chuckle. "Oh, my, how callous of me. Pun wasn''t intended. I was hoping for an outing with you. Perhaps a cup of coffee? Oh, but you''re a teenager; how about a burger or a slice of pizza?"

    This condescending¡ª

    "Quit playing games!" snapped Zach, his voice snapping out dangerously. He dropped his tone, hoping the others hadn''t heard his outburst. "Death and destruction isn''t something to gloat about, you psycho. People are screaming in pain and fear because of this¡ªbecause of what you''ve done. How can you not understand?"

    His last question came out more of a plea than an accusing demand. He''d been so close to the blast. He''d been so close to losing his own life and the lives of his friends. His hand shook at his ear; his heart thumped like a hammer upon an anvil.

    We all could''ve died.

    And no one would''ve cared.

    "What do you want? You want something, don''t¡ª"

    "Tonight. At midnight. I think I''d fancy a video chat."

    "Stop babbling," snapped Zach. "What''re you talking about?"

    "So cute," drawled Falcon, his breath purring through the phone. "But I''m serious. I want a video chat with you and only you. Midnight. Be alone. Don''t worry about how I''ll call; just have your laptop open at the right time. You can wear your cute mask, but that''s unnecessary."

    "What makes you think I''m going to do that?" demanded Zach. "I don''t make deals with terrorists¡ªthe government doesn''t make deals with terrorists."

    "Mmm, I suggest you think really hard about how I know your number, little Chief." Zach sucked in his breath, his eyes widening in fear. "Midnight, tonight. Refusal would be most unwise."

    The call ended.

    His arm dropped like lead, his hand tightly clutching the phone. It shook. Every breath Zach took shuddered his chest. He slowly slid his phone into his pocket. His heart pounded viciously in his chest; he could hear each beat clear and loud within his ears.

    "Zach?"

    A hand touched his shoulder.

    He didn''t turn around right away. Finally, he faced Hikaru with a soft, smile on his face. His reply was grim.

    "We have to report to the chief."

 NINETEEN - Rising Danger

    NINETEEN

    It hadn''t been their fault, yet for some reason everyone felt it was their fault. They''d just been at the wrong place at the wrong time ¨C and, apparently, been doing the wrong thing.

    Falcon had been the one to blow crap up, yet why did everyone look at them like they were the enemy?

    It didn''t make sense.

    The six friends sat, huddled together, on a bench within the police precinct. Exhaustion had long set in. Hours had passed since the initial blast and they were still covered in soot, dirt, and debris.

    Hunger rumbled through Zach''s stomach. For the first time in a week, he wanted to put something in his mouth.

    The cacophony of noise in the precinct was rattling on the nerves. Zach leaned forward, resting his elbows onto his knees and covering his ears with his hands. It did little to mask the sound.

    "One!" shouted Sullivan. "My office, now!"

    Zach sighed. Finally. He stood up. A hand clasped around his wrist. Hikaru gazed up at him with an intense expression, one filled with deep concern and righteous anger. Zach smiled, gently pulling his hand out of her grip.

    Five pairs of eyes haunted him. Their piercing gazes never wavered. He could feel Hikaru''s eyes the most as he walked into Sullivan''s office. The blinds were shut; the door closed behind him. Zach stood at the door, trying to remain calm.

    It wasn''t working.

    "Sit, we have a long discussion ahead of us," snapped Sullivan, motioning to a chair.

    Zach sat on the edge of his seat, his back straight and his head down. His hands trembled in his lap.

    "Every last detail," said Sullivan, each word spoken with emphasis. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. The fury bubbled beneath the surface like an active volcano about to explode. Eyes narrowed. "Go."

    And so Zach did.

    He spoke carefully. Each word had a purpose. He didn''t elaborate nor did he embellish. He stated facts.

    Except for one.

    The man who had helped them, who had probably saved Zach''s life ¨C Sebastian Hawke ¨C he was missing from those facts, plucked from the day''s event as if he''d never existed. Zach wasn''t going to give Sullivan a reason to eliminate his team on the spot.

    A stranger discovering their identities, even if he swore never to speak of them, would break the proverbial straw upon the camel''s back. The man''s kindness would be ignored. The police would go after him and he would disappear. Unit Twelve would be over.

    Zach wouldn''t have a last Thanksgiving with his friends.

    And he wouldn''t let that happen.

    But what should he do about Falcon?

    What would happen if Zach told Sullivan about the call? Would he lose this chance at finding more about him? Getting the police involved in something like undercover work would make things more messy. Zach didn''t trust anyone here. They could ruin it or turn it against him.

    Besides, Zach could only assume that Falcon was watching him now. How else had the man gotten his number? This criminal must have intelligence everywhere. Taking the call by himself wasn''t the end of the world. Zach could handle it.

    The second he couldn''t, he''d go to Sullivan.

    He couldn''t risk this chance.

    After what Zach had deduced about Sullivan, he couldn''t trust him. They weren''t on the same side. This man was trying to sabotage him, for whatever the reason or motive.

    But it didn''t matter.

    He would take Falcon down and protect his friends.

    Once Zach finished explaining what had happened, Sullivan didn''t say anything. His lips were thin with displeasure.

    "Reckless," said Sullivan, shaking his head. "You''re sure no one saw you?"

    His heart pounded against his chest. It was so loud in his ears, a spike of fear rushed through his heart. Could Sullivan hear his heart? Could he tell? Zach''s face betrayed nothing.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    "There was too much dust and debris in the air, sir. We were in an alleyway. There is no possible way anyone saw us. We had to heal ourselves if we were to be of any use."

    You''re lying.

    Again.

    His stomach churned. His heart thumped. He wanted to go home, lie down, and forget this day ever happened. He wanted to sleep through the night, never waking for a certain midnight call.

    And he was tired of being told he wasn''t good enough. He wasn''t perfect enough. He wasn''t doing his job. If he''d had only done this or that ¨C no matter the outcome, Zach and his friends were never good enough.

    But Zach had a horrible understanding as to why they were treated this way.

    It was a double edged sword. It would backfire on the government, on these men ¨C one day, it would. That was how Fate or Karma worked, after all.

    If they broke their spirits, then they would never have the strength to stand on their own. If they beat them down, then they would never fight back.

    But someday, someone would bare their teeth and bite back.

    "At least, you had the sense to hide yourselves," said Sullivan with a huff. "You¡ª"

    A rap on the door interrupted him. The door cracked ajar slightly and a sharp voice said, "Sullivan, I need a word." The man strode inside without waiting for a reply.

    He was short, yet he had an air of authority unlike anything Zach had ever seen. If Zach stood up, he would be a number of inches taller than this man. The man''s greying black hair was trimmed neatly. He wore a dark brown suit and black sunglasses. With a languid hand, he brought his cigar to his mouth and drew in a deep breath, letting out a puff of smoke into the room.

    Zach''s eyes burned.

    "Agent Byron!" said Sullivan with a gasp, bolting out of his seat. "Sir, we weren''t expecting you."

    "Sit down, this ain''t a proper visit," said Bryon in a low drawl. He removed his sunglasses, revealing dark brown eyes. There was a touch of an accent to his voice, but Zach didn''t recognize it.

    The man looked over at Zach, lifting an eyebrow. He motioned towards him.

    "This one of them special kids?"

    "Yes, sir, this is One, leader of Unit Twelve."

    "Mmm."

    "One, get out. You''re dismissed," snapped Sullivan.

    "Now wait a minute," said Byron, lifting up his hand with the cigar. He leaned against the wall, eyeing Zach with intense scrutiny. "If he''s the leader, then he needs to hear this, too."

    Sullivan appeared as if he''d swallowed a lemon. He nodded curtly. He motioned to a free chair and sat down in his own. Byron didn''t move.

    "I hate to bring poor news, but Necrosis hit another mark. A congressman."

    Sullivan swore under his breath. "Are you saying I have a terrorist and an assassin in my town at the same time?" he demanded.

    "Crimson was reported to be in the area as well."

    "You think they''re in on something together or it''s just a coincidence?"

    "Who knows," said Byron, taking another deep puff. He let it out slowly, filling the air around him with smoke. "How''s the search for Falcon?"

    "Terrible. He struck again today, as I''m sure you''re aware. The clinic was empty, however."

    "No fatalities, then?"

    "Injuries, yes." Sullivan glanced at Zach, but continued, "The clinic lost millions of dollars in equipment and research, from what I understand."

    "He''s still going after them, eh?"

    There was no reply. Sullivan gritted his teeth.

    As usual, he''s keeping information from me. Is he not supposed to do that or is it something more?

    "I know you have your hands full with Falcon," said Bryon. "But keep an eye out for Necrosis, too. He''s a wily one, always miles ahead of me. I doubt you''ll see a trace of him if he don''t want it, but I''ll always hope he''ll slip up just once in his life."

    Byron turned his gaze onto Zach.

    "You be sure to inform your unit members about him. I need all eyes on him."

    "If I may, sir," said Zach, hesitant. "But I don''t know much about Necrosis."

    Or Falcon, but that''s beside the point.

    "Necrosis is a world class assassin," said Bryon, a dark light entering his eyes. "I''ve been chasing him for years now. He''s not as high profile as Falcon is, but he''s just as dangerous. He''s killing off senators and congressmen for awhile now. Among other prominent people."

    "And you''re saying this man is in Templeton?" asked Zach, newfound worry bubbling up inside his chest.

    Just what he needed. Another dangerous criminal.

    "I think so," said Bryon with a nod. "Unfortunately, you won''t see hide nor hair of the man until after he''s done. I doubt you''ll even hear a whisper of him. Wishful thinking on my part, though."

    The man sighed deeply.

    "We''ll catch him. Someday."

    A wave of compassion filled Zach''s chest. Had this man been chasing Necrosis for years? It must''ve been a horrible feeling, spending years of one''s life and not being able to catch the criminal. Being outsmarted left and right, so close yet so far ¨C Zach couldn''t bear the thought of that happening with Falcon.

    No.

    He didn''t have that kind of time.

    "Well, I''ll be off. Good luck with Falcon."

    Zach watched the man leave. They were going to need more than luck with Falcon. They were going to need a miracle.

    There was an annoyed sigh from Sullivan. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "All right, One," he said, sounding exhausted. "You''re dismissed."

    Zach nodded. Though he was bursting with questions, it was better to remain silent. He had come out of this conversation unscathed and he wasn''t about to push his own luck.

    He walked out into the busy precinct, shutting the door behind himself. The others looked up at him, unmoved from their seats on the bench. He took a step towards them, putting on a smile.

    "You ready to go?"

    Hikaru stood up, worry in her dark eyes, and lifted a hand, extending her fingers to touch his cheek. Zach sucked in his breath, rooted to the spot.

    Her fingers were soft.

    "You''re okay?" whispered Hikaru, her eyes flickering back and forth. Zach nodded, breathless. Her hand gently extended over his cheek, cradling him there.

    The warmth of her hand made all the difference in the world.

    "I''m fine. Nothing happened," said Zach, putting a hand over hers. She gave him a look and he couldn''t hold back a laugh. "I''m being truthful, Hikaru. I''m fine."

    The warmth pulled away.

    "Let''s go home, guys."

    It was okay. They were alive. Each and every one of them could have died today. An angel had saved Zach and helped the rest of them. A little kindness went a long way.

    And now he''d been blessed with a unique opportunity. Perhaps he couldn''t outright defeat Falcon, but he could outsmart him. And when his powers returned ¨C because they had to come back ¨C Zach would be in position to overtake Falcon.

    Falcon might think this call was scary and threatening, but Zach could only see it as a gift ¨C a sign of hope that Fate was throwing his way.

    He would show Falcon who was the hero and who was the villain ¨C the heroes always took down the villains.

    That was how the stories always went.

    Right?

 TWENTY - Dance with Darkness

    TWENTY

    "All right, everyone clean up," said Hikaru, clapping her hands together. The door shut behind her and the others trailed into the small apartment. "I''ll make us all some dinner. And¡ª" Hikaru broke off and gave every last one of them a hard look. "You will eat. I don''t want to hear a single one of you not being hungry. We need to keep up our strength."

    The others murmured their agreements. Her gaze lingered on Zach the longest, her dark eyes filled with a challenging light. Zach smiled at her and nodded, lifting his hands into the air in a placating gesture.

    While the other four went to the bathroom, chatting lightly with soft voices, Zach followed Hikaru into the kitchen. "I''ll help you," he said.

    "Oh, no," said Hikaru, shaking her head. "Out you go. You''re just as dirty as the rest of them."

    "And you''re not?" asked Zach incredulously. He grinned at her. "I''m not the only one who needs a good shower."

    Hikaru sighed. "I know, but I won''t have much time if I want everyone to have something to eat before going to bed. It''s late."

    "Then, you can''t decline my help," said Zach with a wry smile. He nudged her, a bounce in his step. "All right, Queen of the Kitchen!" he announced with an air of grandeur. He flourished an arm and bowed deeply. "What would you have this lowly servant do first?"

    Hikaru laughed. He looked up, smiling widely. The others slowly trailed into the room, washcloths in hand, watching with curious eyes. Light chased away the darkness in their expressions. A thrill of hope sparked inside Zach.

    And he put all of his energy into the act.

    "I do live to serve, after all, my lady," said Zach, lifting out of his bow. He put a hand over his heart, a twinkle in his eyes. "The lady only needs to command and my actions are yours."

    Hikaru put her hands onto her hips, giving Zach a fake stern look. She huffed, yet it sounded more of a breathy laugh. "Now how am I supposed to get anything done if you''re messing around?" she asked. Something sparkled in her eyes.

    Brielle let out a small giggle. She put a hand over her mouth, as if embarrassed by the sound. Zach''s eyebrows waggled up and down, turning his gaze onto her. "And what of you, little lady?" he asked, still in that posh tone.

    He strode to her with a light bounce and bowed. He grabbed her by the hand, wrapping an arm around her lower back. She laughed in delight as Zach swept around the room, twirling her a few times. He released her waist and whirled her around once more.

    "Jacob, your turn with the little lady," said Zach, pushing her to Jacob. "Go on, take her hand¡ªthat''s it."

    Soon, the two of them were dancing. Zach turned to Sevati and, not giving her a moment to decline, grabbed her by the hand and waist. With a flourish, he danced around with her. Light flashed in her eyes, until she let out a soft laugh. With a twirl, he directed her into Drake''s arms.

    "Your turn, Drake!"

    And off they went, dancing with the other two ¨C with not a tune in the air.

    Zach turned to Hikaru, a mischievous grin lifting his expression.

    Hikaru laughed in exasperation. "Zachary Bennet, what on earth has gotten into you!" she cried.

    "Sometimes, being spontaneous is fun!" said Zach. He sneaked up to her, playing it up like an old black and white silent film.

    "You stay away from me," said Hikaru firmly, yet her lips were lifted in a smile. "I have dinner to make."

    "But dancing must come first!"

    Zach grabbed her around the waist. She shrieked. With his hand in hers and his other around her waist, he led her into the living room area, whirling and twirling her around as if they were in the finals of a dance show. Their attempts were clumsy. They bumped into Drake and Sevati, before bumping into Jacob and Brielle.

    But no one minded it at all. Everyone was laughing.

    Sweet music to the ears.

    They were covered in soot. They were covered in dirt. Some had tears in their clothes, while others had blood stained on their clothes. Yet, this terrible day filled with blood, debris, and terror faded from the mind as they danced around the room to the melody of their laughter.

    Zach twirled Hikaru around in his arms; she laughed with pure happiness, sending butterflies of delight through Zach''s soul.

    The moment didn''t last forever, but it didn''t need to ¨C this brief moment in time, it was more than enough to change the melancholy and lift the heart. Once again, they could forget. No one else needed to exist. It was just them and their voices of laughter.

    All six of them crowded into the kitchen and helped with dinner, giving Zach and Hikaru time to clean up a bit, too. Six pairs of hands weren''t needed for something simple like rice with stir fried vegetables, yet every hand managed to touch something and help.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    Their small kitchen table was set with plates and silverware; food was placed on the table like any family dinner: stir fry over white rice and freshly cut apples.

    The conversation was light and cheerful.

    It had been a success.

    After dinner, as the others went to bed, Zach and Hikaru stood in the living room. She gave him a hug, pulling back after a moment.

    "Thank you," whispered Hikaru. She gave him a grateful smile. "I was so worried."

    "About what?"

    She sighed. "I thought I''d have to fight everyone to eat. I thought after today¡­ everyone would be in a poor mood and it would be a struggle to get anyone to cooperate with dinner. I thought it would be like last time."

    A gentle light entered her eyes.

    "And then you surprised me. You were able to do something I couldn''t and I appreciate that."

    "We make a good team," whispered Zach.

    There was a soft laugh and a tender gaze.

    "Yes, I do believe so, too."

    It was said in such an odd tone, one that Zach couldn''t decipher. There was something more in her expression; there was something more in her voice. There was something in the way she held her lips, in the way the edges of her eyes creased. But what it was, he didn''t know. The moment passed and Hikaru gave him another smile, before she turned away. She stopped at the girls'' bedroom door and glanced back at him.

    "Good night, Zach."

    "Night," he whispered.

    Don''t go. Please¡­

    And then Zach was left alone in the living room. Minutes passed as he stood there, waiting, listening. Snores echoed from the boys'' bedroom. The girls would soon be asleep as well. The night was dark, the day coming to a close. Midnight was closer than he''d wanted it to be.

    Zach wanted to join the sleeping requiem, but he had a previous engagement to keep.

    Perhaps it''d been foolish not to tell them. Perhaps they could''ve been his support during this. The act of unburdening himself would''ve been a great relief. In the ideal, there would be no arguing. They would''ve been on board one hundred percent.

    But he didn''t.

    Why not?

    Zach turned away and picked up his laptop from off his desk, tucking it beneath his arm. He sat on the couch and set the laptop onto the coffee table. He curled his legs beneath himself, rested his hands onto his knees, and hunched over slightly.

    Zach stared.

    He checked the time.

    Five minutes to midnight.

    He had five minutes to decide. He could wake the others. He could avoid the call. Or¡­ Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to play into the hands of this criminal, just for a sliver of information ¨C just for the chance of it?

    Zach thought about everything he had learned about this man. Falcon liked to play games. Why give the police that first tip? Why not remain silent? Why mess with them, if only to play games?

    Then, silence.

    A sudden attack.

    It was a pattern of chaos.

    So many questions, yet so little answers. Sullivan was just as bad, though. Sullivan had known some information beforehand and had chosen to withhold it. Why?

    Why?

    Zach growled. What was Sullivan playing at? Did he want to sabotage Unit Twelve more than he wanted to catch Falcon?

    Irritation shot through his chest. Zach gritted his teeth. Wasn''t catching a murdering terrorist more important? How could Sullivan jeopardize any chance of catching this man? The fury billowed upward further.

    Four minutes.

    The chief had lost all trust. Perhaps it was foolish to do this alone, but it was dangerous to inform anyone else. After tonight, Zach would tell the others. Right? Where would they go from here? What would they do? What secrets could Zach learn?

    All of his uncertainty, all of his fear, they flooded his veins like a poison, destroying his mind. He couldn''t defeat Falcon in a physical fight. The man was too powerful. Zach was weak; he was powerless. Maybe he should just leave that laptop lid closed. Twice, he''d been proven weak.

    Twice!

    He''d been at each location during an attack and yet, Zach hadn''t been able to do anything. He''d been like everyone else, feeble in the face of tragedy and catastrophe. A hero? Hah. How laughable.

    And Falcon escaped again.

    Why couldn''t he lay his hands on this slippery man who was far more oily than a stick of butter?

    Zach exhaled, his breath ragged like a cornered, wounded animal. His fingers slowly curled into fists. His hunched body trembled.

    No.

    He couldn''t back out.

    This criminal had his phone number. Falcon knew. He knew who they were. He probably knew where they lived. Perhaps he knew everything about them. Somehow, they''d been compromised.

    So, why?

    Why would Falcon want to talk with him alone? Zach couldn''t understand the motive. Had the man done this with the other leaders? There had to be some sort of angle in this. Falcon had to have a reason and one that gave him the advantage.

    Three minutes until midnight.

    Zach opened the lid to his laptop. The internal mechanics whirled softly, breaking the silence of the night. Its light illuminated the darkness. He pulled out his mask from his pocket and slipped the black mask over his face. He felt the taut fabric pull against his skin.

    Two minutes.

    Was he doing the right thing? Was taking a step into the void alone the right thing?

    What was right?

    And what was wrong?

    He didn''t know.

    That line was far too blurry. The line between good and evil was thick and wide, yet the line between right choices and wrong choices was far thinner ¨C transparent, even. Where was the guide? Where was the mentor? No one was there to help, to guide ¨C no one to teach him what was right and what was wrong.

    Zach, alone, had to fumble through the smog.

    I have to be strong.

    When would he become a cool, aloof, indifferent hero, one who could shove all uncertainty into the enemy''s face? He wanted his own strength, his own power ¨C and with that power, he wanted to be the one to take down Falcon.

    Selfish? Arrogant?

    Perhaps.

    But if he had that power, then his body wouldn''t be trembling. If he had that strength, then his heart wouldn''t be terrified. If he were a hero, he would''ve been all powerful, filled with unbending strength. Pressure? Expectancy? Responsibilities? Easy. He could be the leader everyone expected him to be.

    A madman loose in the city? Yeah, he could take him down.

    Such wishful thinking.

    Something moved on the screen. Zach stiffened. He hadn''t touched his laptop. A waiting sign popped up in the middle. He sucked in his breath, staring at the screen; his heart thumped.

    One.

    Shivers shot down his spine; the hairs on his arms rose. A mixture of anticipation, apprehension, and pure antagonism whirled inside his chest. Fear pounded with every beat of his heart.

    A trap¡­

    Maybe.

    There was still time to slam that laptop screen down. There was still time to avoid entering this game of cat and mouse ¨C of prey and predator.

    But the desire to be a hero rose above everything else.

    He couldn''t fail them.

    The laptop screen went dark. A shadowed, masked face showed up on the screen and a smooth, taunting voice whispered in the night.

    Game on.

    "Hello, little Chief."

 TWENTY-ONE - Deal with the Devil

    TWENTY-ONE

    "Falcon."

    "Are you alone?"

    "Don''t insult me."

    Even though the man''s mask covered his entire face, Zach could still see faint contours in his features. There was a hint of movement; the man''s mouth lifted to the side slightly. He didn''t reply.

    Silence.

    It burned.

    Zach lasted for about thirty-six seconds. He counted. "So, what do you want?" he asked, unnerved. He couldn''t stop himself from filling the quiet. It was probably part of Falcon''s plan ¨C blah blah blah. But who had time for that kind of flexing? Zach was not in the mood. "I don''t have all night for a pleasant chat. Some of us like to sleep, you know."

    Sleep? Amusing.

    There was a smooth chuckle. "My, my," Falcon drawled. "Who''s the impatient little hero?"

    "You''re the one who wanted to talk to me," hissed Zach in a low voice. "So, talk."

    Falcon touched a gloved finger to his chin. "I suppose we could get to the point," he said, amusement in his tone. The hand disappeared. "I can respect that."

    There was another moment silence.

    This asshole is purposely drawing this out!

    Zach didn''t fill the silence this time, enduring each second with the agony of nails on a chalkboard. He waited. And waited.

    "Let''s say you''ve¡­ peaked my interest," said Falcon with a languid motion of the hand. "You''re a fascinating lad. You''re¡­ different than all the others. And I can''t help but wonder why you waste your time with the government."

    Huh?

    Wait, what?

    Out of all the things to talk about, this is what Falcon called at midnight to discuss?

    I''m different than all the others?

    Oh, please.

    Did this man think him stupid? He wouldn''t be swayed by the honeyed words of a serpent. What an insult.

    "I''m fascinating, am I?" asked Zach, folding his arms. He leaned back against the couch. "You, a grown man, finds a sixteen year old kid fascinating?" Zach let out a derisive laugh. "Whatever you''re selling, you''re going to have to do better than that."

    Falcon snorted; he shook his head.

    "You''re a smart one. I''ll give you that."

    "What do you want?" demanded Zach. "Get to the damn point or this conversation is over."

    "You''re so impatient," said Falcon in a chiding tone. "I thought we could have an enjoyable chat."

    "At midnight? On a school night? So bored, are you, with blowing up half the city that you gotta ruin my sleep? Get a hobby."

    The man inclined his head. "What would you say," Falcon said with a soft whisper, "if I said I knew more about you?"

    Fear choked his breath.

    He knows.

    Of course. A sense of dread overtook his senses. It was going to be a different game, then. Things just got deadly.

    "You''re trying to mess with my head," said Zach, his tone overconfident. No fear. Show strength. "You''re bluffing."

    There was another cruel pause.

    "Let''s analyze the facts, then," said Falcon, his tone mild, as if he were instructing a class. Condescension dripped throughout his inflection. "I have your number. I hacked into your laptop. I know your location. It gets pretty crowded in that little apartment, yes? Too small for six teenagers. Two bedroom, one bath? Tsk."

    His stomach churned.

    They weren''t safe.

    "Stop lying," hissed Zach. "You know nothing about us."

    "Don''t I?" whispered Falcon with a silky drawl. "Zachary James Bennet."

    Zach went cold.

    It was like someone had dropped a bucket of water filled with ice cubes over his head. A gasp shuddered through his throat. He stiffened. His heart palpitated, fluttering, gasping, dying in his chest. His vision blurred, nearly blackening completely. He sucked in his breath; his vision returned. The hair on his arms rose.

    Hearing his name ¨C his full name ¨C out of the mouth of this man in that smooth, obnoxious tone was the most chilling thing Zach had ever experienced.

    The man knew.

    Fear beyond anything Zach had ever felt in his entire life gripped his heart; he couldn''t speak. His breathing quickened. Small, audible breaths were gasping from his mouth. The shadows shifted.

    "Identities are fleeting," said Falcon softly. "Did you expect to be protected behind a mask, a piece of fabric? Perhaps you thought the government would protect you¡­"

    Zach couldn''t breathe. He would suffocate. He was drowning; horror poured through his veins, poisoning his senses.

    "What a foolish boy, so childish and naive to hope for such things. Hmph. The government doesn''t care about their tools."

    Zach sucked in his breath. Stars popped in his sight; his head felt light. He shivered.

    "What do you want?" whispered Zach.

    His voice was weak with a quiver. It sounded foreign in his head. He sounded young, like a child calling for their father or mother in the middle of the night, frightened by the beasts that laid beneath the shadows. He quietly cleared his throat, forcing his voice down to its normal pitch.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Oh, how stupid he''d been.

    How arrogant of him to think he could outwit this man. If the police and the government couldn''t find him, what had possessed Zach''s mind to believe that he ¨C a child with botched powers ¨C could take Falcon so easily? This man had been evading capture for years, avoiding intelligent, educated men and women who were experienced in their careers and jobs.

    In his arrogance, Zach had willingly fallen into a trap.

    The man would, inevitably, blackmail him.

    His hearted fluttered in fear. What would that entail? The possibilities were endless and every last one of them were terrifying.

    Or¡­

    Would he be like one of those villains in the movies?

    ''Join me and be free.''

    And for a brief, selfish moment, a wish for that rose inside Zach''s heart. A life without fear, a life without pressure ¨C what would that be like?

    He wouldn''t live in fear of losing his family. He wouldn''t live with the pressure from Sullivan, from the government, from the world. No worry. No guilt. No pressure. There would be money for food. There would be money for a trip to the dollar store.

    And so much more.

    He''d have peace.

    If Falcon offered such things, should he consider it? Should he think about such a future? Bring it up to his friends for serious consideration?

    His heart wavered.

    The allure of the enemy was strong.

    It would mean turning his back on the right thing. Zach wasn''t sure if that was something he wanted to do. Siding with a man who freely killed hundreds of people ¨C and mocked such things¡­

    No.

    His father would be ashamed of him; his mother would be disappointed in him.

    Joining with a murderer, a terrorist, was the wrong choice. Even if he didn''t always feel like one, Zach was a hero. He stood for justice and law when he slipped the mask on. He protected people, even when his powers weren''t working. He wasn''t perfect, but neither was anyone else. Though the world expected their ''heroes'' to be flawless, they weren''t.

    Being on the other side meant giving up being a hero. Money, security, freedom ¨C were those worth the sacrifice he would have to make? Were the innocents of this world more important than such trivial things?

    Were his needs more important than others?

    "What do I want?" whispered Falcon, repeating the words slowly. "There are a lot of things that I want. The question is, will you cooperate?"

    Zach swallowed, drawing up his courage. A hero¡­ "You know my name. What''s your point?" he demanded. "A lot of people do. The government shuts down people who talk about any identities of their Units. Go ahead and talk. Maybe the government will finally find you."

    "Who''s to say I''ll talk about you?" said Falcon lightly.

    Zach''s stomach swooped downward. "What?" he whispered.

    There was a soft, dark laugh. "Do you really think I''ll do something so benign as talking about you? Oh, Zachary," Falcon purred. "You''re so cute. Information is far more valuable than spreading it around for everyone else. No¡­ No, no, no."

    Zach waited. His body remained stiff. He waited for the threat, the thing that would bend Zach''s will to whatever this man wanted from him. Zach knew he was drawing this out, dangling it in front of him with the delighted, sadistic pleasure of a cat playing with a mouse.

    "It''d be so unfortunate if something happened to your friends," said Falcon lightly. "Didn''t a few of them almost die today?" he asked in a mock aghast tone. He shook his head. "You were a bit close to the explosion, weren''t you? A few more paces, a few more yards¡­ Tsk. Would''ve been a right shame." There was another long pause. His next words were slow and deliberate. "Drake, was it? Didn''t he almost lose a leg?"

    He''s watching us.

    Zach resisted the urge to look around the living room, every shadow a traitor to their peace and safety, hiding some secret camera.

    How long?

    How long has he been watching us? How? When? Why?!

    There was a soft chuckle. Falcon turned his head to the side slightly and let out a mock sound of surprise.

    "Oh, dear. Look at the time," said Falcon. His head turned to face Zach; those masked eyes reflected the light for a brief moment. A shudder slid down Zach''s spine. "I think that''s enough for one night," he said softly. "It''s a school night, isn''t it? Wouldn''t want you droopy eyed for a day of learning."

    "Excuse me?" demanded Zach. "That''s it? This conversation isn''t over. You tell me what you want from me or I''m going to the chief of police. We''ll take our chances."

    Waiting for the unknown was a far crueler fate.

    "Very well," said Falcon, sounding absurdly pleased. "Still, it is getting rather late. Let''s continue this tomorrow night, but in person.

    The air disappeared inside Zach''s throat. "What?" he croaked.

    "Since this is just the beginning of a wonderful relationship," said Falcon with a dark purr. "I think it prudent to dispense with all this¡ª" He made a gesture with his hand, as if trying to find the right word. "¡ªsecrecy. And I want to see you. In person. I''ll send you the address and you can drop by in the evening tomorrow."

    Oh, sure. Like a social call. I''ll just drop on by as if we''re old friends.

    Is this man insane?!

    It didn''t take someone with an active imagination to think of all the horrible things that could happen to him if he met up with this psychopath. Alone.

    "The hell I''m coming over," snapped Zach. "Are you insane? Come on, I''m not that foolish¡ª" Zach used his fingers for dramatic air quotes. "¡ªthere''s no way. You''re a murderer, a criminal, a terrorist, and who knows what else. No way in¡ª"

    "I could always visit your little apartment, then," interrupted Falcon with a drawl, his tone heavy with suggestion. Zach inhaled sharply. "You''re on the second floor, aren''t you? I''m sure your friends wouldn''t mind having me over for dinner, hm?"

    The torrent of fear plagued his throat. It suffocated his breath; it seized his lungs. Blackness seeped into his sight, white stars sparkling like a night sky. Pound. Pound. Pound. His heart thumped rapidly. Sweat beaded at his temples.

    His chest squeezed.

    Zach sucked in air, starved for breath.

    "Is that a no? Excellent."

    His pocket vibrated. Zach slowly pulled his phone out. An address had been texted to him.

    "It''s only a few blocks from you."

    No one could save him.

    "Tomorrow night, say¡­ around eight o''clock? Come alone," said Falcon, a hidden smirk lifting his tone. "Oh, and come without your cute mask. You don''t need it, after all, Zachary."

    Watching us¡­

    How long?

    Why?

    "I could always tell the police," whispered Zach, half to himself. His words were stronger than his shaky voice. "They''ll find you and arrest you. I could tell them."

    I should tell them.

    They would capture him.

    "You could," said Falcon with an upward lilt in his voice. Then, he let out a single, breathy chuckle. He leaned closer to the camera. "But you won''t."

    Click.

    The screen was black, with the backlight still illuminating the darkness.

    Zach clamped a hand over his mouth and bolted to his feet. He darted to the bathroom, just in time to double over the toilet bowl. There, he retched the contents of his dinner ¨C the dinner that had been prepared with such laughter and happiness.

    Those moments felt like a lifetime ago.

    Zach shuddered and gasped over the bowl; he retched again. Bile burned his throat. Tears squeezed from his eyes.

    Once his body calmed down, Zach cleaned up and washed out his mouth. There was still an awful taste on his tongue. He stumbled out of the bathroom and collapsed onto the couch. His arms curled into his chest, while his hands dragged over his face.

    There, he silently cried, feeling more vulnerable than a newborn kitten. His mind paralyzed his body with a powerful paralytic: fear.

    I shouldn''t go.

    If I do¡­ this man could do anything to me. Anything.

    But if I don''t go, he''ll kill them.

    There was no escape.

    The tears streamed down his face, yet a strange sense of calm washed over his senses. One thought above everything else seemed to anchor him.

    Even if he had to sacrifice his soul, he would do it. Zach would do anything to protect his friends. Even if he had to suffer, even if he had to do things against his moral code¡­

    I would do it.

    For them.

    And so, all he could do was cry this night away. He wasn''t supposed to do that, but he couldn''t stop himself. It only reiterated his weakness.

    So what.

    He was weak.

    His tears were hot. His cheeks became damp. He pushed his face into the cushion of the sofa. He sobbed.

    Alone.

    Terrified.

    Come morning, he would act like nothing had happened, like he hadn''t spent the night crying. He would go to school, laugh with his friends, eat dinner with them, and smile with reassurance. Tomorrow night, he would go. He would go to this address and meet Falcon. The man would blackmail him, somehow, someway ¨C and Zach would do whatever he wanted.

    For them.

    Maybe his tears would soften the heart of some deity. Would they hear his cries? Maybe his powers would resurface just long enough for Zach to overpower Falcon.

    Or maybe not.

    No matter what happened, he would endure ¨C for his friends, he would endure.

    There was no safety in the shadows.

 TWENTY-TWO - The Vipers Lair

    TWENTY-TWO

    It loomed over Zach like a thunderous cloud. He couldn''t think. He couldn''t concentrate. His legs bounced; his eyes darted to the clock. The voice of his teachers droned in his ears, but they all blended into one smooth voice. Taunting, haunting words echoed in his mind, rattling through every corner. There was no moment for peace. It would break him.

    It would tear him apart.

    Anticipation was the worst thing ever created.

    ''¡­the beginning of a wonderful relationship.''

    ''It''s only a few blocks from you.''

    ''You''re on the second floor, aren''t you?''

    ''Come alone.''

    Come alone.

    Alone.

    "Bennet!"

    Zach''s head snapped up. His teacher was tapping her foot on the floor, her eyes narrowing. All the other students turned their heads back at him; their eyes stared.

    "Bennet, pay attention, would you?" snapped the teacher.

    Zach nodded. "Yes, ma''am."

    The woman sighed, shaking her head. She continued without another word to him.

    He should''ve stayed home.

    At lunch, as he stood in line, Zach kept his head down. Whispers blended all around him. They snickered. The bags beneath his eyes ached; there were bruises there. A few girls pointed at him; he could hear their words, but he ignored them. He grabbed his food as quickly as possible.

    Something light hit him in the head. A crumpled piece of paper landed on the floor. Zach glanced at it, but didn''t pick it up.

    "Hey, Bennet, you dropped something," said Novak with a smirk, strutting towards him.

    Voices went silent. Eyes turned onto the pair of them. In the back of the cafeteria, his friends slowly stood up from their seats. Hikaru''s worried expression burned. Zach turned his gaze onto Novak. The other boy smirked down at him. He motioned to the paper on the floor.

    "Pick up the trash."

    It didn''t take a massive amount of creativity to figure out where this was going. Zach didn''t have the energy to engage.

    Zach stepped around the boy, ignoring him. A rough hand grabbed him by the shoulder, jerking him around. Zach''s grip loosened on his tray; his lunch clattered to the floor, splattering his food all over their shoes.

    "Bennet, you freak!" snapped Novak. "These are expensive!"

    Zach let out a low sigh. "Well, maybe," he said in an annoyed tone. "If you didn''t bother me, this wouldn''t have happened. Stop bugging me, Novak."

    "Or what?" demanded Novak. He leaned down, barely an inch away from Zach''s face. "I know you think you''re hot stuff," he whispered. "But it''s your fault Rosie is gone. Tiff is a mess over missing her best friend. It''s your fault."

    Zach gritted his teeth; his fists shook at his sides. "It''s not my fault Finley opened her mouth when she was told not to talk."

    Novak grabbed him by the collar, jerking him forward. Zach''s hands gripped Novak''s wrist tightly; he glared back at him.

    "If you weren''t around, then she wouldn''t be gone."

    "I don''t have any control over that kind of stuff, so take it up with the government," snapped Zach, jerking out of his grasp. He stumbled back, fixing his collar. "It''s not our fault."

    He strode away before Novak could grab him again. He didn''t bother with getting another tray. He wasn''t all that hungry anyway. The cafeteria broke into fervent voices. Zach threw himself at their bench, slumping his elbows onto the table and resting his face between them.

    "Are you all right?" demanded Hikaru, sitting down next to him. A hand touched his back. "He didn''t hurt you, right? We should wipe off your shoes."

    "It doesn''t matter," murmured Zach. He lifted his head. The others slowly sat back down. All eyes were on Zach.

    He couldn''t bear it.

    His sanity was going to snap.

    "Hey, I''m f¡ª"

    "If you say ''fine,'' I swear I''m going to smack you," snapped Hikaru.

    Zach snorted, glancing at her. The tension eased slightly in his chest. "Really?"

    "Yes."

    "I''m fine."

    She smacked him on the arm.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    "Ow, okay, I get it," said Zach with a tired laugh, pulling away from her. "I get it. I''m not fine, all right?"

    "Really?" drawled Brielle. "We had no idea."

    "Could''ve fooled us," said Drake.

    "Oh, wait: you didn''t," said Sevati.

    Jacob giggled.

    "Are you sick?" asked Hikaru, putting a hand to Zach''s forehead. It moved after a moment. "You don''t seem to have a fever." She sighed, shaking her head.

    "I didn''t sleep last night," said Zach with a sigh. "That''s it, really. I''m tired."

    Hikaru bit her lower lip. "Maybe you should go home¡­"

    "No, it''s fine. I''ll be okay. What''s a few more hours?"

    "That''s like asking for trouble," said Jacob. "You never ask stuff like that." That threw the rest of them into a fit of laughter and giggles. Jacob inhaled, looking affronted. "What?" he demanded. "You see it all the time on TV and stuff. You don''t make a poke at bad stuff. It always bites you in the bum!"

    They didn''t stop laughing. Zach smiled at Jacob. "You''re right," he said with a nod. "We won''t poke fate."

    "Good," said Jacob with a huff, still looking a bit offended.

    A wave of gratitude washed through Zach. The others were smiling again, chuckles still under their breaths. They truly were amazing.

    And he couldn''t be frustrated when Hikaru forced some of her food on him.

    I''m doing this to protect them. I''m going to protect them.

    It''s going to be okay.

    They''re worth it.

    The rest of the day went slowly. He counted the hours. He counted the minutes. He never took his eyes off the clock. As each second ticked with every click of the clock, it was a second closer to tonight.

    Closer.

    Closer.

    So close.

    <hr noshade="noshade" size="1">

    That evening around seven, they ate dinner. Zach stared at his plate. As the others piled on the food, the bile rose inside Zach''s throat. He swallowed.

    "Aren''t you hungry?" asked Sevati. "You didn''t eat much at lunch."

    Hikaru glanced over at him; her mouth thinned.

    "I dunno," breathed Zach. "I think I feel a bit sick."

    Hikaru bit her lower lip.

    I''m fine.

    But you''re not.

    You''re lying to yourself.

    When will you drown?

    Zach stood up; his chair scrapped against the floor. Movement around the table paused.

    "You know¡­ I think I''m going to go for a walk," said Zach. "I think the fresh air will be good for me." He grabbed his jacket and threw it on. He paused at the front door. "I''ll be back later," he said softly. "Don''t wait up for me."

    His friends exchanged looks between one with another. He ignored them. Hikaru jumped up from the table and followed after him. Zach stepped into the stairway hall. Hikaru shut the front door behind herself and gave him a long look.

    "Are you sure you should go alone?" asked Hikaru. "What if you collapse? What if you don''t come home tonight?"

    Zach snorted. "It''s not that bad," he whispered. "I''ll be back home."

    He won''t keep me.

    Right?

    He wouldn''t want to raise suspicion, now would he?

    A strange impulse came over Zach. He grabbed Hikaru by the hand and pulled her a little closer.

    "Listen to me," whispered Zach, squeezing her hand gently. "If something happens to me¡ª" At her horrified expression, he lifted his free hand into the air. "¡ªI''m not saying it will, all right? I''m just saying¡­ Just in case in the future, okay? If something happens to me, protect the others. You should¡­"

    He let out a slow exhale of breath.

    "Don''t let anything separate you," whispered Zach. "No matter what. Stay together."

    "Zach," murmured Hikaru. "You''re scaring me."

    "I know, but trust me on this."

    She nodded. "I promise. No matter what, we''ll stick together."

    Zach smiled. He pulled her closer, slipping his arms around her waist. She melted into his embrace.

    I''m coming home tonight. I''ll be okay.

    The moment was fleeting, gone within seconds. They released one another. Zach turned away and made his way down the stairs. They seemed to echo louder than normal. At the bottom of the stairs, he glanced up.

    She stood at the top, watching him.

    He smiled and gave her a wave. He shut the door behind himself, slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and walked along the sidewalk.

    He followed the GPS

    With each step, the lump in his throat grew. Whatever happened tonight, he would remain strong. He''d been through a lot already. He could endure whatever Falcon dished out at him.

    His steps were monotonous. He pushed all thought into the back of his mind and focused solely on his feet. When his pocket vibrated, Zach''s body gave a little start. He stopped, pulling out his phone.

    He glanced up.

    I''m here already?

    It was barely a fifteen minute stroll.

    Zach looked around, taking in the surroundings. It was a neighborhood of high quality condos. He checked the address number. Zach walked into the neighborhood, taking one of the winding sidewalks. He looked through the condo numbers, trying to find the right one. He stopped in front of the last condo near the sidewalk.

    It was normal.

    The man''s address was surprisingly normal.

    Zach slowly walked up the porch stairs, pausing in front of the door. There was a keypad next to it. Of course, a criminal could afford such a nice place. Oh, the irony of it. Here, he couldn''t even afford a trip to the fricking dollar store, while this criminal could blatantly live in such an expensive area.

    Geez, life wasn''t fair.

    Zach gritted his teeth.

    He was going to enter the devil''s lair.

    Zach squashed the rising fear that licked his insides. He lifted his hand and knocked on the door. This was awkward. For crying out loud, he had knocked on this man''s door ¨C Falcon''s front door! ¨C as if he were visiting a good friend.

    The door swung open. Zach jumped, his body jolting. No one was there. He took a step forward. He peeked inside.

    Empty. The door had opened by itself¡­

    Yeah, that wasn''t creepy at all.

    He took another step forward; his heart fluttered. The interior was normal. Wow, what disappointment. Falcon hadn''t bothered to go full Saturday morning cartoon villain on the interior. What a missed opportunity.

    As Zach took a few more steps inside, the door slammed shut behind him. He whirled around, his heart pounding against his chest. The room fell into darkness. Zach grabbed the handle, turning it back and forth, only to find it locked.

    Shit!

    I should''ve known!

    Zach tried to get the door open again, but it was useless. It wouldn''t budge. Panic rose and devoured his heart. His breathing hitched, the panic suffocating him. The darkness was all encompassing, drowning him within its depths.

    Zach leaned his forehead against the door, feeling the cold wood press against his skin. His hands were still grasped around the door handle.

    What now?

    "Didn''t your parents teach you not to go into a stranger''s house?"

    Zach''s breath caught. He whirled around, his back pressing against the door. He saw a form in the darkness. That voice. Falcon. The condo had a small landing that had a single step up into a longer hallway. The man was standing on it.

    There was a flick and the hallway flooded with bright light. Zach sucked in his breath, his lungs expanding as he stared into the face of the man who stood before him ¨C no mask.

    Mid to late thirties, average height, high cheekbones, prominent jaw line, black wavy hair, crystal blue eyes ¨C all the same features of¡ª

    "Mr. Hawke?" breathed Zach; confusion bled through his tone. He stared, slow to understand. "What''re you doing here? There''s a criminal¡­"

    He sucked in his breath.

    "Wait¡­ You''re Falcon?" whispered Zach. Him? He''d been so kind, so warm. It didn''t match. It didn''t connect. Why? "You''re the one who has murdered so many people? You''re the criminal that has the entire country in an uproar?"

    The man''s lips twitched. Crystal blue eyes glinted. His lips lifted in a smirk.

    "All in a day''s work."

 TWENTY-THREE - Cryptic Dance

    TWENTY-THREE

    What?

    Zach could only stare, his mouth opened wide. The kind, gentle man who had saved their lives was also the one and only Falcon.

    The frick is going on?!

    This doesn''t make sense!

    "Are you going to remain plastered to the door or are you going to come in?" asked Hawke, his head tilting to the side.

    Zach''s chest lifted in a deep breath.

    Falcon was Hawke.

    Sebastian Hawke was Falcon.

    He was the same man who had saved them. He had been there, near them, when the explosion had gone off. Watching us? He had pulled Zach away from a falling wall. He had saved his life. What was this man playing at? He''d been the cause of the explosion in the first place. Why save them when his track record was covered in blood?

    Zach studied the man, looking for any hint of an answer.

    "You are a very brave young man."

    Zach blinked. Though the man''s expression had turned impassive, neutral even, there was an intense amount of emotion whirling within his eyes.

    This is still Falcon.

    Don''t let your guard down.

    Hawke gestured towards himself. "Come along when you''re ready. Take your shoes off, though."

    The man walked down the hallway. He turned to the left and disappeared. Zach didn''t move, rooted to the spot. This wasn''t going how he had imagined it. This wasn''t how the villain blackmailed the hero. But Falcon wasn''t doing anything. He hadn''t forced Zach to follow him. He hadn''t thrown out any threats nor demands.

    Zach gritted his teeth. He''d been expecting a more villainous lair, not this inviting hallway with beautiful landscape paintings on clean white walls. It was too¡­

    Normal.

    Criminals weren''t supposed to be normal people.

    Zach sighed, the tension fading in his body. The pressure lifted from his heart. He shouldn''t let this rattle him. It was a plan constructed by Falcon: show his human side to make himself more relatable.

    Courage moved his body.

    Zach bent down and pulled his shoes off. He set them aside, before stepping up into the hallway. His socked feet slipped slightly against the wooden flooring. At the end of the hallway was a large clock on top of a shelf filled with books and knickknacks. Zach gazed at the paintings on the walls in the hallway. The style looked rather familiar, but he wasn''t sure where to place it. They were beautiful, though¡­ something nostalgic about them.

    As Zach reached the end of the hallway, he looked to his right. There was a bathroom with the door ajar. To his left, the floorplan opened up into a large living room and kitchen combination. A desk with a computer sat on the right side of the room with a sofa and coffee table to the left. The area was furnished with everything one could want in a home.

    Falcon had lived in Templeton Hills long enough to get settled.

    This wasn''t just a house, a place of dwelling. It wasn''t a lair or a temporary place to sleep before going to the next town.

    This was a home.

    Hawke was sitting at the desk. There were quite a few machines on the desk, a number of them reminding Zach of a hospital. There were numerous vials ¨C is that blood? ¨C syringes, needles, and other things on the desk.

    Wonderful.

    This man was going to experiment on him, wasn''t he?

    Hawke turned in his chair; a light lift of his lips played across his face. "So," he said, amusement in his tone. "You finally came inside. I thought you''d stay at the door for another ten minutes at least."

    Zach grimaced. Conflicting emotions burned inside his heart. This man is Falcon. Saving our lives doesn''t erase all the others he''s taken.

    It was difficult to separate the two, though.

    "Cat got your tongue?"

    Zach swallowed back the bile in his throat; he licked his dry lips. Questions stormed his mind, but the flurry couldn''t be puzzled through. The tension in his body had returned in full strength.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    The man let out a low sigh. He rubbed his face. "Listen, whatever is going on in that brain of yours¡ª" Hawke motioned with his fingers. "¡ªforget it, all right?" he said, his tone demanding. It softened a moment later. "I''m not going to hurt you."

    How can I believe that?

    Yet, against his will, something relaxed inside his chest. Crap. How was the man doing that? He wasn''t speaking in that silky tone, like he had the night before. This was his ''Mr. Hawke voice.'' Hawke only had to say the right thing and the tension would fade away.

    It was a trick.

    Don''t believe anything. Come on!

    "Really now, kid, calm down," said Hawke, shaking his head. He stood up. Panic struck. Zach took a few steps backwards. Hawke let out an exasperated huff. "Listen, despite everything, it was never my intention to harm you. I swear it. If you''re so afraid, why would you come?"

    "I''m not afraid of you," snapped Zach, embarrassment warming his face.

    "Really?" A smirk lifted the man''s features; his eyes flicked up and down. "You''re terrified¡ª"

    "Uh, hello?" cried Zach, gesturing wildly. "You''re the one who blackmailed me!"

    "¡ªbut brave. Very brave. I''m impressed."

    His chest constricted.

    "What do you want?" asked Zach. No more being afraid. He would be cautious; he would be careful, but fear wouldn''t paralyze him any more. "I''m here. So, talk."

    "You''re such a brazen child," drawled Hawke. "And here I thought you had come for a pleasant visit." He snorted. "You can''t even enter my living room, kid."

    And there was Falcon.

    Zach strode into the living room and whirled around, folding his arms near his chest. "Look," he snapped, lifting his shoulders. His arms tightened. "I''m in the living room. Now what?"

    "So impatient. So anxious."

    Annoyance pricked at him.

    "What, am I supposed to guess, then?" asked Zach with a derisive laugh. "Okay, how about a long winded speech about how you''re a misguided asshole, who has all of these pathetic reasons justifying why he''s a mass murdering psychopath? No? That isn''t why I''m here?" Zach snarled. He lifted his hands into the air and made air quotes. "What, no villain monologue?"

    Hawke let out a low chuckle. "You watch too much TV, kid."

    And there it was again. ''Kid.'' It was almost endearing. The man wasn''t angry. He didn''t even bat an eye at the insults Zach had thrown at him. He was amused. The man thought this was funny.

    Hawke stepped forward; alarm flooded through Zach. He was a number of inches taller than Zach, his presence daunting. The man''s upper body was bulky, his fitness prevalent throughout his chest and arms. Hawke leaned over slightly, looking down at him with those bright eyes. Zach lifted his head, jutted his chin out, and eyed the man back with all of his defiance. No matter his feelings, he would not show them. He refused to be intimidated by Falcon.

    "You''re a walking dichotomy," said Hawke; an eyebrow rose. "You came, despite your fear, despite all your preconceptions of how it would be, you still came."

    A bird of prey. The man started to circle him. Zach followed the man with his eyes at first, his head slowly turning as Hawke moved out of eyesight. His head whipped around to the other side when the man was out of sight again.

    "You didn''t come just to protect your friends, now did you?" whispered Hawke. His eyes gleamed. "You were drawn to me. You wanted to know more. You wanted answers."

    Zach stiffened. The man paused in front of him, staring down. "Don''t kid yourself, Falcon," he growled.

    Hawke raised an eyebrow; his mouth lifted in that ever annoying smirk. "No?" he drawled. "Despite the dangers, you came anyway¡ª"

    "Because you threatened them!" cried Zach.

    "¡ªYou wanted to know," whispered Hawke, his low voice a roar inside Zach''s ears. "You didn''t just come because you''re on a self sacrificing hero mission. No. You''re so curious, so determined to take me down, you were willing to sacrifice yourself for it."

    Zach dropped his gaze. The man''s words burned like a scorching inferno. His hands curled into fists. This man knew what buttons to press. Yes, Zach wanted to know more. It didn''t take away from the fact that he was also here for them.

    Both were valid.

    "Are you going to get to the point yet or are you just gonna taunt me all evening? I said it before: you need a hobby."

    Hawke chuckled. His lips thinned and he looked away for a moment. There was a flash of uncertainty in his expression, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Hawke took a deep breath; his head dipped to the side.

    "You''re aware of how they test for paternity, yes?"

    Okay, that''s a weird question.

    Zach frowned. Seriously? This was the topic now? He nodded, not knowing what to say.

    "It''s easy to do nowadays," said Hawke softly, each word spoken carefully. "With the right equipment, you can do all sorts of things with DNA, right in your own home. And with enough money, the possibilities are endless."

    Zach''s eyes wandered to the man''s desk, gazing at the items there. So, he''s experimenting with DNA with that stuff? Is that how he has powers?

    "I wish to test it."

    His eyes flicked back. Test what? The man wanted what? He wanted to take a paternity test? And why was Zach needed for this?

    "I don''t understand," said Zach.

    The man shifted his weight. There was a long pause. "I wish to do a testing," Hawke said finally.

    "You said that," said Zach, annoyed. "I still don''t understand. You''re trying to find out who your parents are?"

    "No, not mine," said Hawke, breaking eye contact.

    It was getting more weird by the second. Everything in the man''s stance had weakened. He had become neither Falcon nor Hawke. It was uncomfortably out of character from what Zach had seen so far of this man.

    "Mine? I know who my parents are."

    Hawke let out a ragged sigh. "No, I want to test my DNA."

    Alarm bells were ringing in the back of Zach''s mind. The man was still not getting to the damn point. Was this going to be an ongoing problem with Falcon?

    "Falcon, get to the point," snapped Zach.

    "And yours."

    More cryptic nonsense. Zach took a full minute trying to decipher the man''s broken thoughts. He struggled. He wanted to test their DNA to see their parents, then? Is that what was going on?

    "Why?" asked Zach. "Why do you need to test mine, too? I already said I know my parents. Is there a point to this? Get to the friggin'' point, Falcon, would you? Quit dancing around here. I can''t read minds!"

    Please tell me he just wants to experiment with my DNA and use it for evil. Please tell me he wants my powers for nefarious reasons.

    He''s not¡­ trying to say what I think he is¡­

    Please, no.

    Hawke inclined his head slightly, considering for a moment. The blood roared inside Zach''s ears.

    "I want to test your DNA against mine."

    What¡­?

    What?

    "To see if we''re related¡­ To see if I''m your father."

    WHAT?!

 TWENTY-FOUR - The Traitorous Truth

    TWENTY-FOUR

    I''m sorry, what?

    What?

    Zach stared. He blinked. He stared some more. He squinted. The silence remained as Zach tried to make sense of what this psycho had said. The man''s voice looped in his head. Over and over again, he heard those words.

    ''To see if I''m your father.''

    Zach started laughing. It was borderline derangement, disturbing even himself. There was no happiness in his laughter; there was no joy. There was only insanity and there was no stopping it. Incredulity flooded through his mind.

    Falcon suspects he''s my father?

    Oh, hell, no. No, this wasn''t happening. This had to be a bad dream ¨C a horrible, horrible, living nightmare. This was insanity at its finest. The man believed, on some weird basis, that he could possibly be his father? Really? No reasonable person would believe that¡­ unless¡­

    Oh, no, no, no, this wasn''t happening. This had to be a lie. This was a joke, right? The man was joking. Ha. Ha. So funny ¨C straight out of the movies funny. It was so hilarious, Zach couldn''t stop laughing.

    Oh, please, tell me this isn''t happening!

    The laughter faded into mocking derision.

    "Is this a joke?" cried Zach, his deranged hysteria spilling into his tone. "Are you trying to be funny?" Venom poured through his voice. "You had better find a different profession, then, because you suck at this!"

    The man''s mouth twitched in amusement.

    "Don''t you dare laugh!" shouted Zach, slicing his hand through the air. "My parents are Abigail and Michael Bennet."

    Emotion flashed through Hawke''s eyes. He swallowed; an Adam''s apple bobbed. "Abigail Doyle," he whispered. "She was a vibrant, beautiful woman. I knew her very well."

    Doyle¡­

    He knew her maiden name. This man knew her maiden name. Zach hadn''t told him that. He had to have done his research because there was no way¡ªno, this isn''t happening¡ªno way he actually knew her in person.

    "How dare you!" shouted Zach. "You do not get to do this to me. If you think you''re going to mess with my mind through my mother, you''ve got another thing coming."

    "This isn''t a joke," said Hawke, his expression darkening. "I knew Abigail Doyle. Fiery red hair, strong Irish accent, gentle and kind ¨C yet spoke her mind all the time, it would drive you crazy. She was a nurse at the¡­ Well, I met her as a nurse."

    ''I decided to give up being a nurse.''

    ''But why, Mom?''

    ''Because I wanted to be here for you, my darling.''

    "Anyone could find that out!" shouted Zach; fear clamped onto his throat. "You''re lying!"

    "No, I knew her," said Hawke, his tone firm. "That''s not a lie."

    "You lied before about that," said Zach with a low hiss, hating how calm the man was. How dare he. How dare he. "You said you didn''t know her and now you''re saying you do? Which is it?! Why should I believe you now? Why are you trying to pull this on me now?"

    Hawke looked away. Zach''s chest heaved up and down with each breath. Out of all of the things he had imagined ¨C and he had imagined a lot ¨C this hadn''t even crossed his mind once. It was fine, though. They hadn''t confirmed it. This could just be a lie.

    Right.

    It was a lie.

    "You look like me," said Hawke, his voice low, almost to a soft murmur. "You have my eyes. When I first saw you, I swore¡­ You looked so much like me, but there was so much of Abby there, too. There was no mistaking it. You confirmed my suspicions when you told me her name."

    He''s calling her by a nickname!

    "Anyone could look like you," said Zach with a snarl. "Genetics are complex like that." He let out an aggravated sound, throwing his hands into the air. "Tell me this is some cruel, sick joke you''re playing with me. Tell me!"

    What a change. He''d been afraid of what his enemy could do to him. He hadn''t been prepared for lies ¨C or were they the truth? What was a lie? What was the truth? Who was he to believe? Lies had become the most frightening thing now.

    "You look like her," whispered Hawke. "You''re definitely Abby''s son. But you''re not Mike''s son. That much I know."

    More nicknames. This man had a lot of audacity. Was this all he wanted? He didn''t intend to be the nasty villain who blackmailed the hero into doing his dirty work? No, he wanted to find out if Zach was his¡­ was his¡ª

    Bile rose inside Zach''s throat.

    He couldn''t even think the term. Even thinking about it was insane ¨C made it possible. He dropped his face into his hands, dragging his flesh down with his fingers.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Oh, please let this be a cruel joke.

    "Want to prove me wrong?" asked Hawke. Zach''s head popped up, his hands still clutching his face. "Let''s test it. If I''m wrong, then you can go. I won''t bother you or your friends ever again."

    He''ll leave? Just like that? As if.

    "You''ll really leave?" said Zach, narrowing his eyes. His hands dropped to his sides. He scoffed. "You''re a liar. Why would I agree to that?"

    "I swear on your mother," said Hawke, quiet reverence in his voice. "I will leave this city if I''m wrong. I won''t hurt Abby''s son. I can''t make you believe me, but I will keep that promise. Abby was a special person in my life. You''re her son. I would never directly do something to hurt her."

    Directly?

    There was something gentle in his tone, in his expression, in his eyes ¨C somehow, Zach found himself believing this man wouldn''t hurt him now. This is ridiculous! There was no way Zach would blindly believe Falcon would leave the city once they learned Zach wasn''t his son. But the way he talked about Abigail¡­ Perhaps he really knew her.

    Falcon had known his mother and father.

    Had they been friends? That much could be true¡­ There''s so much I don''t know.

    "Well? Will you agree to do a testing?"

    It''s all right. There''s no way I''m related to Hawke. It''s impossible. My father is Michael Bennet. My Dad was a great man. There''s no logical reason why I''d be related to this man.

    Let''s set this straight. I can''t have this hanging over my head.

    I have to clear the air, learn the truth.

    Zach slowly nodded his consent. Hawke motioned with a finger; Zach took a step closer. He looked at the desk with a new light. The man had been prepared for this.

    He really believes¡­

    Hawke snapped a plastic glove over his hand and grabbed a swab from the table. He turned around and stepped up to Zach. He looked up at the man; his heart thumped. Panic flushed through his veins.

    What am I doing? Am I really doing a DNA test with this man? A stranger? A frickin'' terrorist?!

    What if?

    What if it was true? What if he really was related to this man? What, then? Then, what?!

    What am I doing?

    "Swallow and open your mouth," said Hawke.

    Zach obeyed. Hawke inserted the swab into his mouth. The cotton swab gently brushed against the interior of his cheek for a few seconds, before it moved to the edge of his teeth. Hawke withdrew the swab, setting it aside. He did this until he had three samples.

    Zach trembled. He wrapped his arms around his waist. He watched the man collect samples of himself. Zach''s eyes lost their focus; it was becoming a blur.

    "W¨Cwhat now?" asked Zach. He let out a breathy snort. "What, we send it to a lab and they give us the results in five to ten business days?"

    "I do it here myself," said Hawke, not looking back. "I have the equipment."

    "Lovely. Fantastic," drawled Zach, his arms tightening around his waist. He rubbed a nervous hand over his arm. "But you aren''t exactly an award winning trustworthy guy. Huh, I wonder why."

    "I can''t fake science," said Hawke, stopping for a moment to glance back at him. "There''s no twisting the truth."

    Zach scoffed. "Please. You''ve been lying to me ever since I met you. What am I supposed to expect? You''re a liar."

    Hawke let out a deep, regretful sigh. "If I had known the truth years ago, then things would''ve turned out very differently."

    What?

    Hawke pointed to the couch. "You might want to sit down," he said. "It won''t be long, but it will still take some time. It''s not instant."

    The man went silent, sitting down in the black office chair and rolling closer to the computer. Zach sat on the edge of the plush sofa, his hands clasped in his lap. He watched the man, staring at the high back of the office chair. His knuckles went white. He twisted the skin back and forth.

    Could it be true?

    Zach didn''t know enough of his parents to be certain. He''d been six years old when they had been killed. He had little left of them, except for a painting by his mother and an old journal from his father. They had moved around too much for Zach to remember any close friends. They had always been a tight knit family.

    So, what if?

    What if there was more to their story? What if this stranger had known his parents, had been a friend, and Zach never had a clue? What if it was worse?

    What if Hawke was his father?

    The very thought made his mouth go dry. There were so many scenarios that could''ve brought that to pass. Cheating. Rape. Zach wasn''t sure he could handle that last thought. If this man had done something so horrific¡­

    This night would not end well.

    But¡­ That didn''t make sense by the way Hawke talked about Abigail ¨C not that he couldn''t be delusional in his own head. It sounded like he wished he were Zach''s father. Oh, right. Falcon wanted to be a Dad, so he would stop his mass murdering ways to raise his son.

    Riiiight.

    Yet another ''what if'' crossed his mind.

    What would''ve life been like if Zach hadn''t been a ward of the government? What if he''d had a father?

    Emotion overcame him, one of a deep, hidden desire ¨C a desire for a living, breathing father. It startled him to the core. Zach tore his head to the side, his breathing ragged and erratic. He tried to calm it down.

    His feelings betrayed him. Zach wasn''t about to let someone like this man sway him. He had come this far without a father. Ten years. He didn''t need a biological father in the form of this criminal. His friends were his family now and that was all Zach needed.

    What did Falcon expect ¨C if, by some crazy reason, they were father and son? Was he supposed to feel a loving connection to Hawke? Ha! That was a real funny joke.

    Zach didn''t see the humor in it.

    In the end, it didn''t matter. This man wasn''t family. Anyone could be a sperm donor. It took a real ¨C present and honorable ¨C man to be a father.

    Michael Bennet had been such a man.

    "It''s finished," whispered Hawke. He turned around in the chair and motioned to the screen. Light glimmered in his eyes. "See the answer for yourself."

    No.

    Stop that.

    Stop with that emotional manipulation.

    He stepped forward; they were like lead. There was a list of results on the computer screen. He skimmed the contents; his heart prayed this was a terrible joke, that the two of them would go back to being Falcon and One ¨C Hero and Villain, enemies with no connections whatsoever.

    He denied the hidden prayer, the irrational prayer that ruled out all logical thought.

    ''DNA results show paternal connection with the child. Subject Sebastian is the immediate paternal parent to Subject Zach.''

    His heart fell into his stomach. A wave of cold heat flushed through his body. His mouth went dry; his palms became damp. A weight broke his back. His hands slammed onto the surface of the desk. Glass vials rattled. Hunched over, he stared at those traitorous words ¨C those cruel, earth shattering words that changed the very way he thought about himself.

    So.

    It was true.

    The truth was a traitor.

    Zach looked over at the man. Hawke gazed at him with a tender expression. There was a soft light in his eyes ¨C those eyes. Zach gritted his teeth. He had the man''s eyes. They were older, jaded with flecks of darkness ¨C but they were the same.

    Dammit.

    Zach sucked in his breath, placing a hand over his mouth. Hawke really was his father. How did this happen¡ªno, he knew the mechanics!¡ªhow, with all the possibilities in this world could this have happened? Friends? Had they been friends? Cheated? Had Michael known? Had he known Zach wasn''t his son?

    Zach squeezed his eyes shut.

    Raped?

    Had he been conceived out of power, violence, and hate?

    Tears fell. This was too much. This was horrible. He''d been sired by a terrible man, a man who had taken the lives of hundreds of people and hadn''t batted an eye.

    Son of a criminal. Son of a murderer. Son of a terrorist.

    His stomach turned. A wave of nausea lifted into his throat.

    "I think I''m gonna be sick!"

 TWENTY-FIVE - Warped Identity

    TWENTY-FIVE

    Something grabbed him by the arm, pulling him away. Zach slammed a hand to his face. Saliva filled his mouth; bile crawled into his throat. He was moving, but he was too focused on not throwing up on the floor.

    Just in time, hands bent him towards the kitchen sink. Zach doubled over and vomited. Bile mixed with his sparse dinner poured from his mouth. He coughed, grimacing. His eyes watered with burning tears; his throat became raw from the acid.

    A hand rested on his back, rubbing it in a soothing motion. Chills slid down his spine. Zach gagged, vomiting again. He shivered, having no strength to shrug the hand away. He was stuck.

    How dare the man attempt to comfort him. This was all his fault. His touch would pollute him. Zach shuddered beneath the benign touch, hating it with every fiber of his being.

    Quit touching me!

    He couldn''t stop, his stomach contracting and expelling itself, until there was nothing left. He stood there, hunched over the kitchen sink, his throat burning and tears streaming down his face. He coughed on the lingering bile in his mouth. He gasped for breath.

    "Don''t touch me," hissed Zach, his voice raspy.

    The hand withdrew, stealing the warmth it had provided. Zach snarled at himself, hating his body''s betrayal. His eyes glanced around; he grabbed a nearby paper towel and wiped his mouth. He grimaced at the bitter taste. He turned around and glared up at the man.

    "How the hell are you my father?" whispered Zach icily. Another wave of sickness flowed into his throat. The very thought¡­ "How''d that happen? Who are you?"

    The man''s lips twitched. "Well," Hawke drawled. "When a man loves a woman very much¡ª"

    "SHUT UP!" screamed Zach.

    His voice echoed through the room. Silence reigned, the only sounds lifting through the air were the gentle ticks of the clock. His body trembled violently. His hands gripped together; he couldn''t control the tremors. He sucked in a starved breath.

    "Don''t," hissed Zach. "Don''t joke about this."

    More silence.

    The man''s body sagged. Hawke let out a low, tired sigh. He leaned against the counter and looked down at the floor.

    "I was married to her¡­ Abigail," whispered Hawke. "For a time."

    Zach reeled. His hand slipped against the sink; he quickly regained his balance. Married? Then¡­ but that meant¡­ That would mean¡­

    Relief warmed his veins. The all consuming disdain, distaste, despair, and revulsion were washed away by that single answer. Somehow, he trusted it.

    No, stop it.

    Proof.

    I need proof.

    I need more answers. He could be lying. This could be a plan.

    It could be anything. Whatever this was, it could''ve been some elaborate plan of Falcon''s for some¡­ for some stupid reason. He couldn''t think properly. He couldn''t divine his questions. His mind was shattered. Zach didn''t have the answers; the possibilities were endless.

    Stay suspicious.

    Yet¡­

    The way he looked at Zach¡­ There was something sincere in those eyes. Maybe this was truth: Sebastian Hawke and Abigail Doyle had been married.

    But Zach wanted that to be the truth. Other answers, other possible truths ¨C those were too horrifying. Zach was more than aware that his own feelings were clouding his judgement. He didn''t want to know if his mother had been assaulted by this man. He didn''t want to know if he''d been conceived out of cruelty, evil, and pain.

    But what if she had loved him?

    Such a thought spun a different story. It told a story of young love, of two people finding each other, of getting married and beginning a life together.

    If this was the truth, then what had happened?

    Zach only knew Michael Bennet as his father, as the only man in his young life. Never had the name of Sebastian Hawke been spoken. There were so many possibilities. Zach''s head pounded, pain rising in his temples.

    No, he was done.

    Forget the answers.

    He didn''t want to hear some sordid tale, like one of those laughable soap operas on television. He didn''t want to listen. He wanted it to all go away ¨C go back to his stressful life of trying to make ends meet, worrying about losing his friends, and trying to capture an elusive criminal. Anything was better than this ¨C this was too much.

    The computer was lying. This was a joke. Zach wanted nothing more than to laugh it up.

    This was hilarious.

    "No," whispered Zach. He shook his head. "No, we''re not doing this. No¡ª" He sucked in a deep breath, his chest rising high. Each word burned his tongue. "Mom and Dad were married to each other. Abigail and Michael, all right? They were married. They had wedding rings. They had a certificate. Not you. You weren''t in the picture. Just¡ªstop this. Stop everything. Stop lying¡ª"If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    "I''m not lying," snapped Hawke, his tone rising. His eyebrows twitched in an annoyance. "I was married to Abby. Mike was at our wedding. I have the wedding certificate to prove it. I have pictures."

    Zach''s heart stopped. Pictures?

    No.

    Photoshop was a thing.

    More nicknames. More familiarity.

    The more Falcon acted like he knew them, the more Zach felt uncertain, the more he believed him.

    This was dangerous.

    A sense of injustice raged through his heart; a flood of new feelings washed over everything else. All this time¡­ All this time, he could''ve had a different life. If this was all true, then where had Hawke been? This was Falcon, the man who couldn''t be taken down by a trained team of six with abilities. He was powerful. Where was he when his dear ''Abby'' and his friend ''Mike'' were killed? Why didn''t he save them?

    They had died.

    And dear Sebastian Hawke had been nowhere to be found.

    Something inside Zach snapped.

    With a crying roar, Zach threw himself at the man, his hand clenched into a fist. His body came to a slamming halt; the man caught his fist in his hand. Zach jerked away, spinning into a roundhouse kick; it made contact. Falcon grunted. He stumbled. Zach rushed at him with the ferocity of a vicious, rabid animal.

    "Stop it," said Hawke, catching his fist again.

    "No!" snapped Zach, wrenching his hand back; he couldn''t pull away. The man''s grip was too strong now.

    Zach gritted his teeth and threw his other fist into Falcon''s stomach. There was another grunt; the man bent slightly. Zach pulled back for another punch, but Falcon grabbed the fist before it could strike him again.

    "Let go!" cried Zach, thrashing under the hold. The man''s hands tightened around his fists. His chest heaved up and down erratically. He couldn''t escape. Trapped. "Let me go now, you¡ªyou ba¡ª"

    "Calm down," said Hawke in a low voice, overriding him. It was too calm, too composed. It only served to make Zach even more furious. He thrashed all the harder, jerking back, pulling away, anything to get away from this man ¨C even if it meant pulling his arms out of their sockets. "Zachary, stop it!" Hawke demanded. "You''re becoming hysterical!"

    Tears blurred his vision.

    The rage and sorrow peaked, blending together in one horrible overwhelming surge.

    "Where were you!?" screamed Zach. He blinked; tears fell down his cheeks. "Where the hell were you when they killed them?!"

    Memories of guns, of blood, of screams ¨C they flooded into his mind. Zach gasped for breath, trembling. He went limp. His heart pounded in his head. He closed his eyes; more tears slipped out.

    Where were you?

    If you''re really my father, if you really were their friend, if you really loved her, then where were you that day?

    Zach stood still beneath the silence. After a moment, the man released his hands; they fell at his sides. Zach looked up at Falcon. Inside those crystal eyes, there were sharp, intense emotions whirling within.

    Stop that.

    "You should rinse your mouth," whispered Hawke.

    "What?" breathed Zach.

    "Your mouth," said Hawke, repeating himself with a raised eyebrow. "You threw up. You probably have a bitter taste in your mouth."

    You think?

    Why are you so calm?

    Zach glanced at the floor, unable to look into those eyes. His chest felt as if it would burst. Exhaustion assaulted every sense in his body. He was drained, beyond anything he had ever felt before.

    Last night had been a picnic. Those fears and worries, what a laugh. They would''ve been better than this. Anything would''ve been better than this. Oh, what would it have been like to be blackmailed, coerced into doing dark deeds for an evil criminal. Sounded like heaven!

    Zach listened to the sound of water pouring from the faucet. Something cool pressed into his hand. Zach looked at the glass of water.

    "Rinse," said Hawke.

    Zach put it to his lips, feeling the hard glass on his teeth. He wanted to chew on it. He wanted to bite down, crack his teeth on it. Could he bite down hard enough to shatter the glass? Or would his teeth weaken beneath its power and crack under the strain?

    Perhaps.

    What was I thinking again?

    Zach rinsed out his mouth, spitting out the water into the sink. A thought crossed his mind. He wondered what Hawke''s reaction would''ve been if he had spat it into his face. Ah, well. Too bad. Maybe another day.

    Whoa, hold the frick up.

    My life is not going to include this man! Why am I thinking there''s going to be a next time? No. I never want to see him again. Leave the city. Leave me alone. Never show your face ¨C masked or otherwise ¨C ever again.

    But his feelings swept over those thoughts. Deep down, something inside his heart denied them ¨C betrayed yet again by his own body.

    "How did this happen?" whispered Zach, looking up at Hawke. "Why?"

    Where were you?

    What, we weren''t good enough for you any more?

    How could you abandon us?

    The man sighed, taking the glass from him. There was a gentle clink as he placed the glass onto the countertop. "It''s a long story," he whispered.

    Something pricked at Zach''s heart. "That''s what people say when they don''t want to tell the truth," he retorted, folding his arms across his chest. He straightened, lifting his chin.

    "True," said Hawke with a nod. Those eyes pierced him. He couldn''t break the man''s gaze. "The question is: do you have the patience to listen to the truth?"

    Zach let out a shaky breath. Patience? This took patience? What? No. It didn''t take patience. It took actually wanting to listen. It took a desire, a yearning, a longing to know the man who had sired him. Zach didn''t want that ¨C or so he kept chanting to himself inside his mind. Just what did Hawke expect from him?

    ''Oh, yeah, sure. I''ll listen to you. Can I call you Dad? Can I move in with you and be your ever adoring son? Jeepers, I hope so, Dad.''

    What. A. Joke.

    This man could never take the place of Michael Bennet, the man his mother had lived with, had slept in the same bed with, had died with ¨C Abigail had chosen Michael for a reason and that man had been a great father. He''d been there to put band aids on skinned knees. He''d been the one to tuck Zach into bed at night. He had been the one to tell him bedtime stories.

    Too bad he''s dead, though¡­

    Zach gritted his teeth. "The truth?" he snarled. "What, have a long winded tale of sorrow to spin?" Bitterness poured through his tone. "What''re you expecting from me? Sympathy? Father and son bonding?" Zach let out a burst of dark laughter. "News flash, Falcon: normal fathers aren''t the country''s most hunted and feared terrorist."

    He couldn''t stop shaking. Every part of his body felt fragile, like cracked glass that could shatter at any moment. He needed to sit down, lie down, sleep for a century ¨C when would this all go away?

    "You¡­ are not wrong there," said Hawke in a soft voice. "I supposed we can''t come to an understanding like this."

    "Understanding? With you?" said Zach incredulously.

    "You aren''t the least bit curious?"

    Zach ripped his gaze away from those unnerving eyes; he blew out a rough exhale of breath. Curious? Maybe. But he''d been so focused on Falcon ¨C Falcon was the man of the obsession. Falcon was the enemy, the one to take down. Falcon was the enigma.

    Moments ago, he would''ve given everything to learn something about Falcon ¨C even one tiny detail, anything that could shed a glimmer of light on the man he was forced to bring down.

    But the man who stood in front of him wasn''t Falcon. This unmasked man was Hawke, his biological father. He appeared sincere, from the way he looked at Zach and from the way he spoke. The man was offering up the information. Wouldn''t it be wise to accept?

    No.

    No. No. No.

    Who cared. Who cared?! Zach didn''t need this. He had enough to deal with without this villain in tights being his father. It didn''t matter. He didn''t want to know. He didn''t care.

    Liar.

    After all, what did he have to lose?

    Everything. I could lose everything.

 TWENTY-SIX - The Greatest Trap of All

    TWENTY-SIX

    No. I can''t. I won''t. I refuse.

    It was too confusing. How could he make such a choice right now? This all could be lies. It could be the truth. But he couldn''t tell the difference between the lie and the truth.

    What do I do?

    I need help. I wish I had someone to help me.

    I can''t do this alone any more.

    "No, I''m not," whispered Zach. His voice rose with each word, until he was at shouting level. "I''m not curious. It doesn''t matter what you say. You abandoned your family years ago. You can''t fix that. You''re too late!"

    An injured light flashed through the man''s eyes. It''s an act. Don''t believe it. It''s a fricking act!

    "Why would I want to know anything about you?" snarled Zach. "You''re a murdering psychopath, a criminal. Can we just take a moment to remember that you''ve killed hundreds of people?" Zach paused, raising an eyebrow at the man. Hawke remained impassive. "If you care so much, then you''ll let me capture you and have you arrested for your crimes."

    Hawke snorted. A wry smile lifted his features. "Now that," he drawled, "I can''t agree to, kid. Sorry. I have work to do."

    "What, not enough blood on your hands?" snapped Zach.

    The man''s eyes narrowed. He took a step closer, those crystal blue eyes burning with a dark light. Hawke straightened, bearing over him. Zach''s breath stole away; fear clenched his heart. He refused to back down, though. He stared at him with all of the hatred that could have withered a plant.

    Falcon.

    "If there is blood on my hands," whispered Hawke, "then, there is carnage on their hands."

    Tick.

    Tick.

    Tick.

    The rhythm of the clock broke the silence. While Hawke wasn''t a huge man, he was still a number of inches taller than Zach; his presence dominated over him. Pain and agony bled within the man''s tone.

    No matter what, it doesn''t make it right.

    Zach gritted his teeth. "One wrong will never justify another."

    There was a long sigh, the man''s body sagging; the tension disappeared. The sinister aura faded. Hawke glanced away, a pensive expression on his features.

    "A deal, then," whispered Hawke. Determination filled his voice. His gaze was powerful. "Let''s make a deal. An arrangement of sorts. You agree to come visit me three times a week¡ª"

    "What¡ªno!" cried Zach in horror, interrupting the man. "No way. That is not happening."

    "Would you let me finish, kid?" snapped Hawke, his mouth twitched in annoyed amusement. He let out a low huff. Zach crossed his arms in front of his chest. "If you visit three times a week, Falcon will disappear. I''ll go off the grid."

    "What does that mean?" asked Zach, narrowing his eyes. "Explain it. No tricks. What do you mean Falcon will disappear, go off the grid?"

    "It means no more attacks," said Hawke in a soft tone. "No more explosions. No more attacks. No more deaths. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Done. Falcon will be finished."

    Zach stared at the man.

    He laughed.

    And laughed.

    What a joke. What a hilarious and ridiculous joke.

    He couldn''t stop laughing. Tears burned the edges of his eyes. His chest ached. What a liar. This man was good. He''d give him that. But this was too much.

    The laughter died. The tears did not.

    "I''m leaving," said Zach flatly. He strode past the man. A hand on his shoulder stopped him. Zach whirled around, jerking away from the touch. He glared. "Don''t. You don''t touch me. Got it?"

    Hawke lifted his hands in a placating gesture. They dropped to his sides. "Why?" he asked. "I just offered you what you wanted. Don''t you want Falcon to stop? For three visits a week, you could stop him."

    It echoed in his head.

    ''You could stop him.''

    No. Not like this.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    It''s not good enough. I need to hand you on a silver platter to Sullivan. Then, my friends and I can stay together. Disappearing isn''t good enough.

    "You really expect me to believe you''ll keep up your end of the bargain?" asked Zach, derision dripping through his tone. "You lie to the police. Why wouldn''t you lie to me? What do you gain from this?"

    "Time," whispered Hawke. "With you."

    Zach looked away.

    Yeah, right.

    Would he really abandon his persona, his goals for a few evenings with Zach? These attacks had been going on for years. This man had a vendetta against something or someone ¨C a strong one. Zach couldn''t believe he''d give up years of his goals for something so small in return. Time with a sixteen year old boy ¨C regardless or not he was the man''s son ¨C was not an equal exchange.

    Zach wasn''t so easily swayed by nice words. Falcon''s plans were obviously very important to him ¨C whatever twisted plans they were. A man like that wouldn''t suddenly give up everything simply because he learned he had a son.

    Believe or not to believe.

    Trust or not to trust.

    He had to admit, though¡­ This was an interesting offer. In a perfect world, the agreement would be set in stone. Unbreakable. Neither side would go back on their word. But this wasn''t a perfect world. Besides a few stories ¨C real or otherwise ¨C there wasn''t anything enticing about this to Zach.

    Ugh, this was insanity ¨C the epitome of utter insanity.

    "Well, I don''t have anything to gain from this little arrangement," said Zach in a low tone. "I''m not motivated by time with you." He drew in a deep breath and lifted his chin. "I need more than your weak reassurance that you''re going to quit being a criminal."

    "You''re just going to have to trust me."

    Zach snorted, letting out a soft laugh. Trust. Right. Hilarious. The amusement died. He turned to the side, his arms tight against his chest.

    "Well? Do we have a deal?"

    Zach didn''t respond. His breath quickened. His chest rose and fell. Stars blinked in his vision; he felt lightheaded.

    How?

    I can''t.

    I¨CI really can''t. Not now. Time. Need to think. Pressure. Too much pressure. Seriously, too much.

    The pressure built inside his lungs, cutting off his breathing. His mind raced. Fear overpowered every sense. Zach whirled around, slamming his hands onto the countertop as he doubled over. With practiced familiarity, he slowed his breathing, focusing on each breath. Any thought crossing his mind was redirected to his breath.

    In.

    Out.

    His chest rose slowly.

    It fell with ease.

    "Zach?" asked Hawke, sounding hesitant. "What''s wrong? Are you all right?"

    In.

    Out.

    Get it together. You''ve survived so far. You can survive this. I can do this. Think. Think. Think. What do you want? What can I learn?

    What were all of Falcon''s motives? What were the possible angles? How would Falcon turn on him? What was he expecting of Zach? Focus. Figure it out. There had to be more here than a lonely man looking to reconnect with his son.

    I¡­

    I can''t.

    I can''t do this.

    Zach lifted away from the counter, turning around. He took a steadying breath, ignoring the confusion in Hawke''s face. He strode towards the hallway; he didn''t look back. The man followed him. Zach paused at the hallway, looking at the front door. Hesitation burned his heart. His breathing quickened once again.

    No. Stop it. Just leave!

    "Is this a no?" asked Hawke from behind him. His voice was soft, a brush of disappointment in his tone. "Are you truly going to leave without saying anything? You really want nothing to do with me?"

    Zach''s jaw tightened. His fists clenched at his sides.

    I don''t know what I want, all right!

    I don''t know.

    What did this man expect? This was nuts; this was ridiculous; this was unfair!

    Zach dropped his face into his hands.

    I don''t know.

    I don''t know what I want. I need an answer.

    He dragged his hands over his face. He looked up. In desperation, he glanced at the wall, trying to give his mind a moment of peace. His eyes caught the bright colors of the nearest painting. The brushstrokes were bold and confident, yet they were gentle in the details. It was similar to the other paintings in the hallway, but it still stood unique among them.

    The greens were rich, blending together in a beautiful meadow. Small jots of the brush gave the illusion of yellow, pink, and blue flowers. The sky above was a bright blue with straying clouds. Trees were faint in the distance.

    Zach''s breath caught in his throat. Tears filled his eyes.

    In the right hand corner was a signature. Elegant. Cursive. He knew that handwriting. Drawn to it, his heart pounding in his chest, the blood roaring in his ears, he took a step closer.

    Abigail Doyle.

    His jaw trembled; Zach put a hand over his mouth.

    With an ever so light touch, his finger brushed over her name. The beveled lettering of the paint confirmed it wasn''t a print.

    He could''ve forged this. Right?

    It could be a trick¡­ a horrible, cruel trick.

    But¡­ It would''ve been a lot of effort to fake. Why bother when he could''ve bent Zach to his will in any way he wanted? It could''ve been a forgery, but Zach didn''t believe it was.

    He glanced at another painting. It was a desert with a lone flower as the centerpiece. His eyes focused on the signature.

    Abigail Hawke.

    There were four other paintings in the hallway, three on each wall. Zach didn''t say anything. He looked at each one, studying them. He gazed at each signature.

    Four of the paintings were signed with her maiden name.

    Something loosened inside Zach''s chest.

    He walked towards the front door and sat down on the step. He began to put on his shoes. He heard steps from behind; he felt the man''s presence.

    "Are you going to leave without giving me an answer?"

    His hands tensed; they tightened their grip on his shoelaces.

    "I don''t owe you anything," whispered Zach. He finished tying his laces, but he didn''t stand up. "I don''t have to agree to anything."

    "I know that. I''m not expecting anything from you. I just¡­" The man''s voice trailed off. There was a deep sigh. Zach turned slightly. Hawke drew a hand through his black hair. The man looked at him; those eyes were tired. "I just want to get to know¡­ my son."

    Bile burned his throat. Zach''s head whipped back towards the door. His muscles tensed. His heart raced. He forced himself to take calming breaths. He swallowed. He got up and walked the last few steps to the front door, pausing. He stood there with clenched fists at his sides.

    Then, his shoulders relaxed.

    "I''m not your son."

    There was a soft, nearly inaudible intake of breath. Zach didn''t move. He stared at the wooden door, his eyes following the natural pattern of the grain. The clock ticked endlessly in his ears. His breathing slowed.

    ''I just want to get to know¡­ my son.''

    Zach lifted a hand and grabbed the cold door handle. He twisted it, the door unlatching. He didn''t open it. His lungs expanded in one deep breath, one that made him lightheaded. He let it out, long and drawn out.

    Am I falling into the greatest trap of all?

    "I''ll be here tomorrow night."

    End of Arc One

 TWENTY-SEVEN - Insanity

    TWENTY-SEVEN

    I''m an idiot.

    There was no doubt about it: he was an idiot. He had agreed. He had agreed to visit Falcon. Just because he happened to share blood and genetics with the man, it didn''t mean it wasn''t insane.

    He was gonna do it. He was going to visit Falcon, the country''s most feared terrorist. Three times a week. Wasn''t that a laugh?

    Ha.

    Now what?

    What am I supposed to do now?

    Zach curled his arms around his chest, keeping his head down. He walked at a brisk pace, trying to get as far away as possible from the man''s apartment. Most of the shops had long been closed, jailed doors protecting their establishments. There were few cars on the streets. The late night was silent; the moon shone brightly.

    After he turned a corner, out of sight of the man''s neighborhood, Zach paused and pulled out his phone. He checked the time.

    It was after one o''clock in the morning.

    Well, crap.

    Zach put his face into his hands. The others were going to ask where he''d been. What was he supposed to tell them? How were they going to take this?

    His thoughts wouldn''t stop rushing in a whirlwind. What kind of nonsense was this, anyway? Why had Zach allowed himself to be manipulated? This was ridiculous. He replayed the scene over and over again, but he still came to the same ending each time. Zach wasn''t sure what to believe any more, but¡­

    A few things alluded to the truth. Hawke had talked about Abigail, Zach''s mother, with such tenderness there, as if he had truly known and loved her.

    And then there were the paintings.

    It was a ridiculous charade if they weren''t real. Whether forgeries or stealing them ¨C would Falcon really go to all that effort to lead Zach along? Faking her paintings was a waste of time. Falcon didn''t need to dance around ¨C the man had more than enough power and plenty of blackmail to coerce Zach.

    It had to be true.

    He really was Sebastian Hawke''s biological son.

    So, where to go from here?

    Zach leaned against the wall, lightly bouncing his head against the brick. He sighed. He pushed himself off the wall and buried his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie. His eyes burned with tears. The cold air exaggerated the pain.

    Michael Bennet wasn''t his real father.

    Zach rubbed his eyes. He quickened his stride. He couldn''t do this. He couldn''t let those thoughts in his mind. But they came anyway. A wave of uncertainty flooded his heart. There were so many questions left unanswered.

    And because Michael was dead, there would be no resolution.

    He would never know Michael''s truth. Had the man known Zach wasn''t his son? What if he hadn''t known? Michael had treated him like his own son when Zach was just the product of a previous marriage.

    He felt like an imposter.

    He''s still my Dad. He was a good man. He wouldn''t have cared about that. He loved me. That''s all that mattered.

    His thoughts consumed him. Memories of old filled his mind. Voices of the past echoed in his ears. He sought solace in them. He sought answers.

    Neither came.

    A father ran along side of a little boy, teaching him how to ride a bike. A little boy waited anxiously for a father''s return from work. A father and a mother laughed and danced together while making dinner; a little boy watched in delight. A father played with a little boy; an epic tale of death and hardship with dinosaur toys blossomed between them.

    Zach halted; his shoulders hunched over. He clasped a hand over his mouth. Tears streamed down his cheeks. His body shook. He stood in the middle of the sidewalk, sobbing uncontrollably. The memories stabbed his mind and heart. Sorrow ached in his muscles; longing tore his soul.

    Minutes passed. Zach rubbed the sleeves of his hoodie against his eyes. It took him a few minutes longer to calm down. He pulled the hoodie over his head. He kept his head bowed, staring at his steps as GPS led him home.

    The walk back wasn''t long. He hurried along the path to the door of their apartment. He shut the door behind himself, letting out a long exhale and rubbing his hands over his arms. The chill of the night was still deep within his flesh. He took each step up the stairs as silently as possible. At the top, he unlocked the door and walked inside the dark apartment. He shut it behind himself with a small click.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    As Zach walked into the room, he paused. Hikaru was asleep in the desk chair, slumped to the side. Her weight rested against the wall. She shifted at the sound of the door, sitting up. There was a sharp intake of breath.

    "Zach¡­ Oh, thank goodness," whispered Hikaru, bolting up and rushing to him. She threw her arms around his neck. "I was so worried. You were gone for hours. Did something happen? Did you get lost? Why did you stay out so late?" She let out a relieved sigh; her hands tightened around him. "I''m so glad you''re okay¡­"

    Zach patted her on the back. His mouth went dry. What do I tell her? "I''m sorry," he murmured. "I lost track of time."

    She pulled back and gave him a squinty look. "Really? You? You lost track of time?"

    Well, she had a point.

    "I''m sorry," said Zach with a weak smile.

    "Well, you''re okay. That''s all that matters," whispered Hikaru. "I sent the others to bed an hour ago. They might still be awake, but¡­" She gave him a look. Zach sighed.

    "I''ll apologize in the morning."

    Hikaru smiled, giving him an approving nod. "I think they''d appreciate that." She patted him on the arm. "Well, good night."

    "Night," whispered Zach with a wave of the hand.

    Hikaru slipped inside the girls'' bedroom. Zach did the same. The boys'' bedroom was silent, with only the deep breathing from Jacob and the occasional snore from Drake. Zach got into bed without changing and curled under the covers. He turned onto his side, looking up at the painting on his wall.

    Mom, I need some answers.

    I have too many questions. I don''t understand. Am I supposed to believe what he says about you? Why''d you pick him? How did you meet? He couldn''t have been a criminal then¡­ Right? Why did you like him? I guess¡­ I guess he''s good looking.

    Really, Mom?

    But¡­ could physical attraction truly negate all reasoning?

    No.

    Abigail had not been like that. His mother had been vibrant and amazing. She couldn''t have been shallow. No, Zach couldn''t believe she''d love Hawke if she didn''t have a good reason. She had been kind, a woman of strength. Zach couldn''t remember a time when he had heard her badmouth someone.

    Mom, Dad¡­ I wish you were here. You''d know what to do.

    Zach fell asleep to old memories, his tears soaking his pillow.

    Early next morning before school, Zach was seated on the desk chair, trying to look as contrite and meek as possible. The other five were gathered around him, giving him varying degrees of stern looks.

    They were being so adorable.

    Sevati stood still as a rock, her jaw clenched and her brows furrowed; her expression was borderline irritated and impassive. Drake kept rubbing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Jacob''s eyes were wide with concern, glancing between the others. Hikaru had a hand over her mouth, but the twinkle in her eyes gave away her mild amusement.

    And Brielle, well¡­ she was downright pissed.

    "Where were you?" demanded Brielle. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest. Her foot tapped on the floor. Her chest puffed up. "Do you have any idea how worried we were!"

    Zach didn''t answer. He made the right choice.

    "You didn''t eat lunch. You barely touched your dinner!" continued Brielle, her rant going strong. She listed every sin one finger at a time. "You haven''t slept, Drake says. You''re exhausted. You''re stressed. And you''re gone for over five hours?! Are you crazy? You''d be so pissed at me if I did something like that. And all you have to say is, ''I''m sorry''?! What?! No! That''s not good enough!"

    Sevati opened her notebook and penned something in it. She ripped out the page. In big bold letters, pointing an arrow towards Brielle, the word ''THIS'' was written.

    Zach sucked on his lower lip in the desperate attempt to stop a snorting chuckle. If he laughed¡­ oh, boy¡­

    Don''t laugh. Don''t laugh.

    "We all went to bed wondering if you were going to make it home," said Sevati, lowering the paper. "It wasn''t fair to cause us so much concern for your wellbeing. You need to take better care of yourself."

    Jacob nodded. "That''s right," he said. "What they said."

    "I agree with the girls," said Drake, taking a deep breath and folding his arms. "You made us frantic with worry. You suck."

    Zach couldn''t stop the laugh that broke through his lips. He clapped his hands over his mouth. Brielle puffed up, wounded fury erupting through her features.

    "He thinks this is funny!" cried Brielle, throwing her hands into the air. "I can''t even¡ªI can''t!"

    "No, I''m not laughing at you guys," said Zach quickly. He put on a pout, trying to look repentant again. "I''m not laughing at you. I understand. I will try my very best not to make you guys worry again. I''m serious."

    Brielle narrowed her eyes.

    "You''re just really cute, Bri," said Zach with a smile. "And sweet. You all are. But thanks. I really appreciate it."

    "You''re missing the point!"

    "All right, I think you''ve scolded him enough," said Hikaru, a mild laugh in her tone. "He understands. You better get ready for school. Quickly now."

    They all nodded. With two fingers, Brielle pointed them at her eyes and then at Zach, repeating the gesture two more times, a stern look on her face. Zach''s lips trembled. He put up a pair of placating hands, but her glare didn''t lessen.

    With the others going about their morning to get ready, Zach stood up. I have to go again tonight. His stomach twisted.

    Should I tell her?

    "You''re sure you''re okay?" asked Hikaru, looking back at him.

    His heart faltered. He gave her a tense smile. "Yeah, I''m good," Zach said. "I''m fine."

    I can''t¡­ not with the others around.

    Where would I begin anyway?

    "All right," said Hikaru with a bright smile. She turned away. Zach watched as she went into the kitchen. She pulled out a few pans, some eggs, and some rolled oats, going to work on making everyone breakfast.

    Maybe staying silent was foolish. He''d have to come up with an answer, sooner or later. They''d find out eventually, whether he told them or not.

    They''d find out the truth.

    The truth¡­

    How could he put into words about what had happened last night? How could he tell them his feelings? How could he describe all the horror, all the pain, all the sorrow, all the betrayal upon learning his father was someone else ¨C and a criminal no less?

    He could barely process it all himself.

    And what exactly would he say anyway?

    ''So¡­ yeah¡­ I got blackmailed by Falcon and coerced into going to his apartment. Turns out he''s a decent guy who knew my Mom. Like, knew her knew her. Falcon''s my biological father.''

    Lovely.

    Now to figure out how to slip that into an everyday conversation. How simple.

    A thought crossed his mind, a sinister, illogical one. What if his friends looked at him differently? What if they stopped trusting him? What if? It was a ridiculous fear. Zach knew it. He knew it.

    I''m the son of a criminal.

    Zach ran a hand over his face.

    Damn it.

 TWENTY-EIGHT - Coward

    TWENTY-EIGHT

    He''s getting worse.

    Hikaru paced the kitchen, wringing her hands. She glanced at the clock on the kitchen stove. It was fifteen minutes after six. Once they had gotten home from school, Zach had disappeared into the boys'' bedroom and hadn''t resurfaced since.

    She chewed on her lower lip before sighing at herself in exasperation. She forced herself to stop.

    Something was boiling on the stove, but she barely noticed. She glanced at the bedroom door for the thousandth time that afternoon.

    Ugh, I''m sick of myself now! He''s going to be fine. He''s strong.

    But he was isolating himself from them, something he had never done before in the past. At this rate¡­ Whatever stress he was under, whatever was going on, it was going to kill him.

    Was he this worried about Falcon?

    Or was it something more?

    "Pasta is going to get soggy if it''s left to boil any longer," said Sevati, looking up from the kitchen table. "Wasn''t that the timer?"

    "What?" asked Hikaru, blinking. She tore her gaze away from the bedroom door and looked at Sevati. "I''m sorry, what?"

    "The pasta? It''s done."

    "Oh!" breathed Hikaru.

    She hurried to the stove, grabbing some hot pads. She poured the boiling water into a colander, setting the pot back onto the stove. She turned the cold water on, rinsing the pasta. Her mind wandered; she glanced towards the bedroom door yet again.

    "He''s going to be fine."

    "What?" said Hikaru, snapping her gaze onto Sevati.

    "I said he''s going to be fine," said Sevati. She shook her head. "You need to stop it. You''re going to hurt yourself at this rate."

    Hikaru sighed, putting a damp hand to her forehead. The cool water felt nice on her skin.

    Did the others notice what was going on with him? Zach was unraveling. She had never seen him do that before. No. There had to be something more here than just stress about Falcon. Zach never kept secrets.

    And Hikaru knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Zach was keeping secrets now.

    "He''s under a lot of stress," said Sevati in a low voice, her dark eyes filled with an observant light. "He''s keeping a lot to himself."

    "You noticed, then," whispered Hikaru. She shut off the faucet and turned towards Sevati. The other three were sitting on the couch, watching some lighthearted TV show.

    "Hard not to," said Sevati with a sad smirk. "He''s not the greatest at hiding how he feels."

    No, he''s certainly not.

    "He''s the leader," said Hikaru; her hands gripped each other. Her voice went up a pitch. "We have to trust what he does is good for us as a whole."

    Sevati raised an eyebrow. "That''s unit talk," she said. "Now what about family?"

    Yes¡­

    What about family?

    She couldn''t push him ¨C that much was all too clear. Zach was acting strangely; he would pull away. She had to deal with him delicately, like a skittish wild animal. If she pressured him too much¡­ What if that did more harm than good?

    "I try to get him to eat," said Hikaru, drying her hands on a towel. Determination rose in her heart. "It''s time for dinner anyway. I''ll go get him."

    Please don''t push us away, Zach. We''re here for you.

    <hr noshade="noshade" size="1">

    "Whoa, hang on, Hikaru," said Drake. "Maybe you should leave him alone."

    "Isn''t he taking a nap?"

    "With this much noise? "

    "He hasn''t come out for hours now," said Hikaru, her tone firm. "He seemed down again at school. He missed lunch. I don''t remember him eating anything for breakfast. He needs dinner."

    His empty stomach churned.

    Their voices filled the room. Zach uncurled his legs from his chest, scooting to the edge of his bed. The room was dark, save for the stream of light pouring through the crack beneath the door.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    "You know he hasn''t been sleeping lately," said Drake in a low voice. "He needs to rest."

    "But he needs to eat, too¡­" said Jacob, his voice soft and timid. "He''s gonna get sick."

    "And something else is wrong as well," said Sevati. There was a long pause. "What, you didn''t notice? He''s keeping a lot of stuff from us."

    "Well, duh," said Brielle.

    "I think we all noticed that," whispered Drake.

    Crap. Crap. Crap.

    They know something''s wrong.

    What am I gonna do?

    "Okay, enough, let''s not overwhelm him," said Hikaru with a long sigh. "He''s got a lot on his plate. We know that. I just want him to eat. That''s all. We''ll figure what''s going on with him later. Food and rest first."

    Zach sighed, closing his eyes and wishing he could crawl back beneath the covers. Hiding for a few years sounded fantastic. With a tired huff, Zach stood up and walked to the door, opening it. He squinted his eyes at the bright light. An assortment of surprised gasps came from his friends.

    "Hey," said Zach, after his eyes adjusted. He folded his arms and lifted a sardonic eyebrow. "You know I can hear you, right?"

    Hikaru flushed. The group exchanged glances.

    "Well, it''s been a few hours," said Hikaru, her features lifting in a gentle smile. "It''s time for dinner. I made spaghetti."

    "Thanks," said Zach softly, avoiding everyone''s eyes. "But I just want to rest some more, all right?"

    "But you haven''t eaten all day," said Hikaru. Her smile couldn''t hide the light of concern in her eyes. "You need to eat something."

    "I''m not hungry."

    A lie¡­

    Zach closed the door. His stomach rumbled. With a sigh, he leaned his forehead against the cool surface of the door. He could hear the hushed whispers on the other side, but couldn''t make out what they were saying.

    I''m sorry, guys.

    Give me a little more time.

    But he had precious little of it. He checked his phone. He had another hour at least. He had another hour to wait and brood and think and endlessly wait before he had to see that man again.

    Ugh.

    It was gonna be a long hour.

    He sat on his bed, waiting. He couldn''t be around the others right now. He couldn''t bear it. Zach hunched over, hiding his face into his hands.

    What''s it gonna be like? I visit and then what? What does he want from me?

    ''I just want to get to know¡­ my son.''

    What did that even mean? What''re they going to do anyway? How was Falcon expecting to ''get to know'' his son? Play board games? Zach shuddered at the thought.

    I''m overthinking this¡ªeverything.

    Just go.

    It''s time.

    Zach stood up and slowly peeked out of the bedroom. It was clear. As best as he could tell, the others were on the couch watching TV. He sneaked out. His footsteps were silent as he walked to the front door. He grabbed his shoes, opened the door, and slipped into the hallway, sitting down on the top of the stairs to put on his shoes.

    "Zach."

    Her voice stilled his heart. His fingers froze. He glanced back at Hikaru. She looked down at him, her brow furrowed.

    "You''re leaving again," said Hikaru. Her gaze was piercing. Her mouth parted slightly as she drew in a slow breath. "Is something going on?"

    Yes. Absolutely. Perhaps the end of the world. Remember me fondly.

    What to say? What to say? What on earth could he say to her? A lie. What kind of lie? Ugh, did he have to lie? This was going to kill Zach before the day was out.

    "You won''t¡­ be out late again, will you?" asked Hikaru. Her hands clasped together; they went white.

    Zach''s tense body slowly relaxed. "For a few nights a week, I have to be somewhere," he said, his voice soft. "I''m not sure how long I''ll be. I could be late."

    "Okay," said Hikaru, a little breathless. She bit her lip; her expression was filled with longing. She nodded, more a nervous tick than agreement. "Okay, then. You''ll text me after eleven? Just so¡­ you know, we''re not worried."

    "Of course. I promise."

    Zach stood up. A soft hand touched his shoulder, drawing him to turn to her. A tender light filled her eyes. Her other hand slipped into his, fingers intertwining with one another; it was warm with its embrace.

    "You''d tell me, wouldn''t you?" asked Hikaru softly. Her voice was ever so gentle and imploring. Her hand squeezed his; her other hand dropped to her side.

    "What?" breathed Zach.

    "If something was wrong or if something was bothering you¡­" whispered Hikaru. "You''d tell me, right? You wouldn''t keep it to yourself because you know you can tell me anything."

    The air was heavy around him; he became lightheaded from lack of air. It was a sweet, honeyed trap of words ¨C but he didn''t fault her for it. He had always told her everything.

    So, why couldn''t he now?

    Say it.

    Tell her.

    "Of course," whispered Zach, the lie gentle and breathy.

    Coward.

    She smiled brightly. "Oh, good," Hikaru said, sounding relieved. Her gaze dropped; a faraway light entered her eyes. "I was¡­ worried we weren''t close any more."

    "What?" said Zach, frowning. He lifted their clasped hands, putting his other hand over hers. "Why would you think that? You''re my best friend."

    "You''ve been rather distant," said Hikaru, her expression crinkling. "Not just with me, but with everyone. And it''s getting worse. You''d never shut yourself away all day before."

    Zach sighed, running a hand through his hair. He tugged on the ends slightly. "I''m sorry," he said in a low tone. "It''s¡­ been a long few weeks. It''ll get better. There''s nothing to worry about."

    "Are you sure?"

    "Yes."

    Liar.

    "Everything is all right, then?"

    "Of course it is," said Zach with a playful grin. He pulled out of her grasp; the air was cold on his flesh. "Don''t wait up tonight, all right? I''ll see you later."

    He turned away, each step weighing heavier than the last. At the bottom of the stairs, he glanced up. He gave Hikaru a wave of the hand before he went out into the cold night. He rubbed his arms. A fog had descended, the air damp and white, mirroring the haze in his mind and heart.

    He was sliding down a mountain, slipping in muddy lies and staining his soul. He was lying like a champ. Someone give him an award.

    Zach gritted his teeth.

    He didn''t want to do this. He should go back. Go back. Tell her everything. He didn''t want to keep secrets. He missed the peace and clarity that had come with transparency. His raging feelings rushed through his chest, a torrent of confusion, guilt, fear, and longing.

    Was this the man''s plan? Throw him into a disarray of confusion and guilt? Falcon had the advantage. This ceasefire would only last until Falcon said so. There was nothing on Zach''s end that he could leverage against him.

    ''Time with you.''

    Please.

    Please.

    The man was faking his interest. Once Falcon got bored with trying to ''get to know his son,'' the country would be in danger once again. More lives would be lost. Zach would have to play the game.

    I''ll get more information. I''ll tell them soon. I''ll tell her everything soon. I swear it. Just wait a little longer.

    I won''t be swayed.

    I need more proof.

 TWENTY-NINE - Cruel Simplicity

    TWENTY-NINE

    The scent of sulfur from the industrial side of Templeton Hills was strong tonight. The evening bustled with life. Zach was one with the crowd, another face in a sea of people. He went unnoticed. No one could know the truth.

    He tried to take his time. His steps were slow, agonizingly so. But all too soon, Zach was standing in front of the home of Falcon. For a number of minutes, he didn''t move. He couldn''t bring himself to lift his foot for one more step ¨C there were only three left.

    Zach dropped his face into his hands.

    What the hell am I doing?

    He put a hand on the railing. It was freezing. He gripped it tighter. Zach walked up the stairs. He lifted a hand to knock, when the door swung open. He sucked in his breath, his heart jumping into his throat. He stumbled a step back; his hand clamped the fabric on his chest. His heart thumped wildly.

    Falcon stood in the doorway.

    No¡­ Not Falcon.

    Hawke.

    The man was wearing normal, everyday clothes: dark classic style jeans, a black belt with a silver buckle, and a light blue pinstripe collared shirt with a dark grey suit vest. He was wearing a tie with reminiscent wings from the Falcon suit.

    "How did you kn¡ª"

    "Cameras."

    Huh. Should''ve known. That made the night before a lot more sense, then. Actually, scratch that: nothing about the night before made sense ¨C absolutely nothing, including the whole ''I am your biological father'' nonsense, crap, idiocy stuff. Ugh.

    A wave of nervousness crashed like a tsunami over his senses.

    What were they gonna do? Talk over tea?

    "Are you going to stand out in the cold all night or are you going to come inside?" asked Hawke with a light smirk on his lips. He motioned inside. "Come on, it''s freezing."

    He was so welcoming. It was annoying. How dare Hawke have the personality of a teddy bear. He''s Falcon, dammit!

    His palms grew damp with sweat. Zach strode inside, trying to maintain the last ounce of his self control. Breathe. Just breathe. The door closed behind him. He could feel the man''s presence at his side. A hand rested onto his shoulder. Zach stiffened.

    "Take off your shoes."

    "Right," murmured Zach.

    He rolled his shoulder. The hand withdrew. He stood still, refusing to look up at the man. There was a low exhale of breath. Hawke walked down the hallway and disappeared from sight.

    Something strange flooded through Zach''s chest. He rolled his shoulder again, trying to get rid of the lingering feeling. It''d been a nonthreatening touch, casual and gentle. He inhaled deeply. This was bad. That had been too familiar. No adult since his parents had shown him something like that.

    Such simple, easy familiarity with adults had long died with them.

    Zach pulled his sneakers off, leaving his socks on. He loitered in the hallway, unable to bring himself away from staring at the paintings again. He couldn''t look away. He couldn''t face that man.

    "Mom," murmured Zach, gazing at her name. "Tell me what I should do."

    But no answer came.

    Instead, her handiwork was all he had of her. His mother had touched these canvases. Abigail had taken paint and had carefully brushed the canvas with her thoughts and imagination. Every stroke had been hers. She had existed. She had lived, loved, and breathed.

    Zach had only seen her finish one painting. It was a miracle he still had it in his possession.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    It wasn''t right.

    Hawke or Falcon ¨C or whoever this man was ¨C he didn''t deserve these paintings.

    Were there more?

    If so, there wasn''t anything more Zach wanted to do than to see them, to touch them, to feel the long past essence of his mother.

    Sorrow loomed over him. Zach gritted his teeth, battling against the torrent of emotions; they threatened to overpower his control. He couldn''t take it any longer. He strode out of the hallway and into the living room. Hawke stood in the kitchen with his back towards Zach.

    The last time Zach had been here, he''d been too anxious to notice everything. The d¨¦cor of the large room was bright and clean. The kitchen had white cabinets, furnished with white appliances: a fridge, a stove, and a microwave. A countertop island separated the kitchen from the small dining set. The flooring was elegant marbled tile.

    The three seat sofa was a light brown, with a brown arm chair off to the side. The glass coffee table had a few miscellaneous things on its surface: a couple of magazines, a book or two, and a TV remote. A television set was on a wooden desk.

    There was a second hallway, connected to the kitchen ¨C no doubt leading to a bedroom or two. There were a handful more paintings on the wall.

    Zach itched to go see them.

    "So. Hungry?" asked Hawke, drawing his attention. Zach walked towards the island, coming to a stop on the other side. The man turned around, lifting an eyebrow. Zach crossed his arms in front of his chest, turning his head away. His stomach ached.

    "No."

    Another lie.

    "Sounds like your stomach has made its case," said Hawke with a chuckle. "You know I''m not deaf, right?"

    Zach stiffened. "Well," he snapped. "I''d have to be pretty stupid to eat anything from you. You could''ve poisoned it."

    "You know better than anyone that if I really wanted to kill you, you''d be dead," said Hawke, his tone light. Zach''s jaw clenched. "I haven''t poisoned the food and I haven''t drugged it."

    "Mmm, riiight," drawled Zach.

    "If you don''t believe me, then just wait for me to take a bite," said Hawke, amused.

    The man pulled out ingredients from the fridge. Zach didn''t move, watching intensely. Soon, the island was overflowing with lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, sliced deli meat, cheese, mayo, ketchup, and whole wheat bread. With a clink, Hawke placed plates onto the countertop. He waved a hand.

    "All right, have at it."

    Huh?

    "Come, make your own," said Hawke, opening the bag of shredded lettuce. "I wasn''t sure what you liked, but there should be enough variety here. It''s not a fancy dinner, but nobody can say no to a good sandwich."

    Zach looked at the food; his eyes flicked back towards the man. He didn''t move. Hawke sighed.

    "I didn''t poison my own food," said Hawke in a low voice. He grabbed some bread. "I bought some of this today, if that makes you feel any better."

    He¡­ went grocery shopping? For me?

    Hawke went about making his own sandwich. It quickly overflowed with ingredients: a lot of turkey, one slice of cheese, a bucket load of pickles, two slices of tomatoes, some shredded lettuce, and a mixture of mayo and ketchup. Zach winced at the combo.

    Huh, who knew. Falcon was an actual human who needed food for sustenance. What, he didn''t need the blood and flesh of the dead to survive? Hah.

    It was surreal. The simple act of making a sandwich revealed quite a few things about the man.

    "Go on," said Hawke, taking a large bite out of his massive creation. "It''s not going to make itself."

    With a slight tremor to his hands, Zach made the exact same sandwich, sans the ketchup and pickles. It was the safest route.

    Hawke smiled. "We like the same thing," he said with a grin.

    "No, we don''t."

    "Well, almost the same thing."

    "Stop that," snapped Zach. "Don''t try to find similarities between us. I made the same sandwich simply to avoid being drugged."

    "I told you¡ª"

    "Right, because I''m so gullible to believe everything you say is the absolute truth." Zach rolled his eyes. "Please."

    Hawke clamped his mouth shut. He sighed. With an indistinct mutter, the man took another bite, chewing with a grudging gaze towards the side.

    Zach studied his profile.

    With those high cheekbones and prominent jaw line, the man''s features had a distinct ageless appearance ¨C perhaps being clean shaven played a part in that. Though Zach didn''t have the same black hair, he had gotten the man''s wavy texture.

    Zach frowned.

    He could''ve sworn when he''d met Hawke, the man had a bit of greying or white at his roots. Now his hair was all black, not a strand of grey in sight.

    Mmmm.

    Hawke turned his head, looking at him.

    Those crystal blue eyes.

    The evidence was more than apparent, even beyond the eyes. The more Zach studied the man''s features, the more the resemblance could be seen. The similarity in the eyebrows and the jawline were uncanny. The way the man''s mouth moved with his expressions reminded Zach of himself. The hints were subtle, but they were there.

    He couldn''t deny it any more.

    He was the man''s son.

    The realization landed on his shoulders, bearing down on him with the weight of a thousand tons. He hadn''t paid much attention yesterday. This was more than letters on a screen. Written in flesh, the evidence was there.

    He had never been Michael Bennet''s son.

    Zach had never looked like him. Everything he''d known about himself was a lie. A wave of emotion tore through his soul.

    Complex genetics, eh?

    They were cruel in their simplicity

    He took a bite of his sandwich. Saliva built up in Zach''s mouth; his eyes burned and watered. His emotions grew and climaxed.

    Lack of sleep and lack of food, these things had torn down his protective barriers. His body and hormones overtook his control. There was no stopping the tears from slipping down his face. He ignored them. He didn''t bother to wipe them away. With trembling hands, he continued to eat.

    Yet another tear slipped through his defenses, unwanted and unbidden.

 THIRTY - Broken Defenses

    THIRTY

    The tears were overflowing by the time he was halfway through his sandwich; they streamed down his cheeks in waves. Zach didn''t look up; his shoulders shuddered. Embarrassment burned in his chest, but he couldn''t stop. Every last thing that had burdened his heart poured out through those tears.

    He was weak.

    He was hungry.

    He was exhausted.

    He was the son of a criminal.

    He could do nothing but swallow the sandwich that was laced with his tears. He couldn''t take everything any more. It was too much, too crushing on his heart, mind, and soul. But did his breakdown have to be here? Now? And in front of him?

    Zach finished his sandwich. Hot tears streamed endlessly. His head remained ducked; his clenched hands rested on the countertop. His shoulders shook; the sobs increased; shame intensified.

    Something slid into his sight: a box of tissues. Zach jerked his chin to the side, shaking his head. He didn''t trust his voice. The box entered his line of sight again. He shook his head more violently, his shoulders shuddering with each movement.

    "Come on, kid, they''re just tissues. You''re a wreck. I haven''t laced them with arsenic, if that''s your worry."

    Zach let out a sobbing half laugh. No. That was the last of his concerns right now. He pulled out a tissue, then another. And another. He went through more than he could count. The tears didn''t end. Nothing stopped. It wouldn''t stop. When was it going to stop?!

    Zach sucked in his breath, tensing, as hands clasped his shoulders. With light, yet indomitable force, Hawke maneuvered him to the living room. Zach let him. Those hands gently pushed him down to sit on the sofa. A moment later, the box of tissues were placed in Zach''s limp hands.

    If he looked up, what expression would be on the man''s face? Would it be a sneer? A look of pity? Perhaps one of confusion? Each one meant something different and Zach didn''t have the energy nor the courage to decipher them.

    Tick. Tick. The clock created a rhythm in his mind. Zach sat there on the sofa, creating a new pile of used tissues at his side. The fridge door opened. It closed. A cabinet snapped open; something rustled inside; it snapped shut.

    Only the sound of the clock remained.

    Something cool lightly tapped Zach on the cheek. He sucked in his breath, flinching. He glanced up. Hawke held out a glass of lemonade.

    Zach accepted it.

    It was cool and refreshing, easing the heat in his face. Zach breathed in deeply, closing his eyes and trying to calm down. Something touched his face again, but this time it was freezing. He let out a tiny yelp of shock, jerking his head back and looking up.

    The man handed him an ice cream bar. Zach took it, surprised. Hawke''s expression was impassive, not even a glimpse of amusement. The man was neither sneering, nor pitying, nor confused ¨C but an expression of understanding and knowledge lighted his eyes, as if he''d known Zach for years and had seen such episodes before.

    "Eat these, too," said Hawke, dropping two packets of fruit snacks onto Zach''s lap.

    Lemonade, ice cream, and fruit snacks?

    "What''s this for¡ª"

    "Just eat everything," said Hawke, his mouth lifting upward. "Then we''ll talk."

    He didn''t argue. Hawke sat down in the arm chair with an ice cream bar of his own. Zach hadn''t finished the lemonade, so he downed it quickly and set it onto the coffee table. He set to work on the ice cream bar, quite enjoying the man''s choice of a vanilla chocolate bar with almonds.

    Why?

    The question burned inside his mind as he ate under the pleasant silence. With each passing moment, the torrent of his emotions began to calm further, until they settled altogether.

    He didn''t understand this ¨C this kindness. It was foreign to him. Yet, he knew people usually were pretty decent when a distraught teenager had an emotional breakdown in their living rooms.

    Everything Falcon did and everything Hawke did were in a constant dichotomy. It was downright confusing. Zach didn''t understand this man. Humans were complex, yes. Humans did terrible things in the name of something they believed in. People rarely imagined themselves to be the villains in the stories of others. In their own eyes, they were always the heroes.

    Who do I trust?

    What can I trust?This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Zach polished off the ice cream bar, sticking the trash back into its packaging. He wiped his face, blew his nose, and shoved the used tissues inside the packaging. He started on the fruit snacks, noticing a change in his control. His emotions had simmered down. Zach let out a deep, cleansing breath.

    The tears were gone now.

    In their place was now pure mortification.

    I lost it! I actually lost it inside Falcon''s frickin'' kitchen!

    Zach internally screamed.

    Hawke put his ice cream stick inside the packaging and tossed it onto the coffee table. Zach blinked. Hawke leaned back in his arm chair, crossing his legs.

    "Are you on any medication?" asked Hawke.

    I''m sorry, what?

    Zach shook his head, unsettled by the question.

    "So, you''re not diabetic?"

    "No," said Zach with a frown. "Why?"

    Hawke sighed. His eyes glanced to the side slightly, a faraway light entering there. For a moment, the man didn''t answer. Zach didn''t push him. He watched, observing the subtle movement in the man''s jaw, the bob of his Adam''s apple, the slow heavy blink of his eyes.

    "Abby would be disappointed," whispered Hawke.

    Zach stiffened, his eyes growing wide. A wave of horror flooded through his chest and into his throat, cutting off his air. Before he could retort, before he could say a word, Hawke let out another sigh. There was a light smile on his face.

    "She never wanted to pass on something like blood sugar problems onto her kid," said Hawke, looking back at him. His voice was smooth with reverence. "It always messed with her daily life. She didn''t learn quite how to control it until a bit later, but¡­"

    Zach deflated.

    "At first," whispered Hawke. "She had a few breakdowns that came out of nowhere. Scared the hell outta me, first time I witnessed one."

    Zach let out a breathy laugh.

    "After the third one, I figured out the pattern," said Hawke with a grin. "I started keeping all sorts of candy and fruits snacks on me. If I even saw a hint of a sign she was losing it, I''d force sweets on her. She swore I was trying to make her fat."

    The next soft laugh tasted bittersweet on Zach''s tongue.

    "Things got better as she learned how to deal with it," said Hawke; the light in his eyes faded. "She always disliked the lack of control."

    "What helped?" whispered Zach.

    "Well, she liked to overwork herself a lot," said Hawke, giving him a look. "I suspect that''s where you got it. She''d forget to take care of herself. A hearty meal and a good night''s sleep would always do wonders for her."

    Mom would overwork herself?

    "I suppose the real question is: are you doing the same thing?"

    Zach swallowed, averting his eyes.

    "Have you been getting enough sleep at night? Not staying up late playing video games or watching TV?"

    Something twisted inside Zach''s chest. His hands clenched in his lap. He wasn''t a normal teenager. Zach would''ve loved if that was his problem. It was an easy fix.

    "All right, what about your eating habits?" asked Hawke. "You kids don''t just eat junk food, do you?"

    Was this man purposely being obtuse? If Falcon knew the names of those killed in the hospitals he blew up, then he had to know Units weren''t paid very well.

    Junk food?

    That was a laugh.

    Cheap food made out of terrible ingredients? Yes, absolutely. They were lucky to have Hikaru, though. She always cooked good meals for them, no matter how little they had. Together, they did their best to buy food that was good for them, but they couldn''t always afford everything they needed.

    "Look, Zach," said Hawke, leaning forward in his armchair. He rested his elbows onto his knees. "Your lack of sleep and poor eating habits are going to affect you. It looks like you''ve inherited Abby''s low blood sugar issues, so you''re going to have to take better care of yourself."

    His voice grated the nerves. Every word he said felt like pins pricking his flesh.

    "You think it''s that easy, do you?" whispered Zach, fury boiling beneath the surface of his tone. "So simple. Get enough sleep. Eat the right food."

    "Well¡­ it is," said Hawke, sounding confused.

    "It''s not."

    "I don''t¡ª"

    "Did you even think for a second," snarled Zach, "about why maybe I can''t sleep at night? Did you think about it for more than a second? If you''re supposed to know everything, then why don''t you know the reason why I haven''t been eating?"

    Hawke''s eyes widened. "Zach," he murmured, his brows furrowing. "I¡ª"

    "It''s you," hissed Zach. "You''re the reason why I can''t sleep at night. I keep thinking about what you''re going to do next to my city. So, I stop eating. It gets worse. I can''t sleep even more. When I finally do sleep, you''re in my nightmares."

    There was a sharp intake of breath.

    "And just so you''re aware, we can''t afford junk food," snapped Zach. "We can''t afford healthy food either. We do our best with what the government gives us. There''s nothing more we can do."

    He stood up, his clenched fists trembling at his sides.

    "Thanks for the sandwich," said Zach shortly. "I gotta go."

    "Wait," said Hawke, putting up his hands and standing as well. "You just got here."

    Zach shook his head. "I need to go home," he said, his voice wavering. "It''s a school night. I¡­ I¡ª"

    "Please, just a little longer," said Hawke softly.

    He looked away; Zach closed his eyes, drawing a hand to his face and dragging it down.

    "Why am I even here?" whispered Zach. "Why is this so important to you? Why do you care?"

    He looked into the man''s face. Those crystal blue eyes flared with light and power, piercing Zach''s soul.

    "You''re our son," whispered Hawke. "You''re Abby''s son. You are¡­ my son." There was a long pause. The man''s chest heaved once. "If I''d known¡­ things would''ve been different for you."

    "How?" breathed Zach.

    "I would''ve raised you."

    Mixed feelings whirled inside his heart. Life would''ve been very different if that had been the case. For a moment, he couldn''t stop himself from imagining such a possibility, such a path his life could''ve traveled along.

    A rock settled into his stomach. If he had lived with this man ¨C perhaps from the age of six ¨C he would''ve been part of the Falcon issue. What would his path have been like? Would he be like this man, stand at his side, and watch hundreds of people die before his very eyes?

    "Raised me?" said Zach softly, glancing up at the man. A firm light filled his eyes. "Raised me into what?"

    A criminal?

    A terrorist?

    A murderer?

    "Into a man," whispered Hawke, his words gentle. "One with a constant father in his life."

    Those words echoed in his head.

    "You would not have lived the life of an orphan."

    Gilded words.

    Yet covered in thorns.

    That path had the song of a siren. It sounded nice. It sounded lovely. But the grass on the other side was always greener. That life might''ve been easier, but would Zach have the same morals in his heart? That life might''ve been safer, but he wouldn''t have been the leader of Unit Twelve. That meant he would''ve never met Hikaru.

    Or Drake.

    Or Sevati.

    Or Brielle.

    Or Jacob.

    An easier, safer life was not worth giving them up.