Blaze of Glory (4 page)

“Do you keep in touch?” The tea was getting lukewarm. I reached over and refreshed it with a dash of fresh tea from the Brown Betty.

“We chat. He’s come a long way since you left; you’d hardly recognize the kid. Wandered for a bit on the wild side and then figured out that he’d make more money enforcing the laws than waiting to get caught.” He winced, shifting his weight from side to side. “Bad hip,” David offered by way of explanation. “Been on the waiting list for a replacement for months.”

“I’m sorry.” The last of the shortbread cookies disappeared into my mouth. “You should have called me. I could have used my connections…”

“Bah.” He waved a hand in the air. “You were busy being a superhero. That’s what you do. No time for the civilians.”

“David…” I gripped the mug with whitened knuckles. “It’s all a game.”

He frowned, an air of confusion around him. “What do you mean?”

“It’s all fixed, David.” The weight on my chest lifted just a bit. “The fights, the battles, it’s all arranged. Think of that fake wrestling, taken to a new extreme.”

His dark eyes scanned my face, probably searching to see if I was joking. “You’re serious.”

“Totally.” I drained my mug. “It was all set up, everything from the start.”

“No.” David shifted again in the seat, cursing under his breath. “That’s not possible. We watched you and the others…” He stopped, studying a tear in the ancient carpet under us.

A small niggling thought finally broke free at the back of my head, charging through the headache pain and to the forefront. “Oh, my God.” A piece of the puzzle fell into place. The fights between the superheroes and supervillains ranked high in the television ratings. Every station raced to cover us, tossing everything off the air to beam our battles around the globe. If you had a television or a computer you could see the constant fighting between good and evil, super versus super.

I knew they were all prearranged. David didn’t. Anyone not on the inside wouldn’t know. And if I were from another planet, another world, what would I think if I looked towards our little green and blue globe and tuned into the local news?

“What?” David studied my face. “Are you okay? You seem so pale.”

“Do you have any painkillers?” I tapped the side of my head. “I know it sounds clichéd, but I just flew in from NYC and boy, am I tired.”

Chuckling, he got to his feet. “Got a bottle back here. Might actually be yours.”

As he shuffled away into the back room I leaned forward and put my head between my legs, just in case I fainted before he got back. It wasn’t likely, but with the revelation bursting around the pain I was definitely in need of something, and I knew David didn’t keep booze on the premises.

“Here you go.” A hand appeared under my face, clutching a pair of white tablets. “Are you okay, Jo?”

“Not really.” Dry-swallowing the pair, I reached for the Brown Betty and poured the last few dribbles into my mug. “David, what’s been going on with the aliens?”

He stared at me, his forehead furrowed as he settled back into the chair. “What? You were there. You know what happened.”

“Yes, but I want to know what you saw.” I tapped the side of my head. “Humor me, please.” The edges of my vision began to clear.

“Well, the ship arrived and this one guy got out. Cleaned the clocks of the heroes who went to take him on, took out the villains who showed up…took out Metal Mike.” He glanced at me, shaking his head. “I liked him. You made a good team.”

“Yes, yes we did.” I tamped down the pain. “Then what?”

“Then it happened all over the world.” One hand gestured at the ceiling where the exposed ductwork and thick wooden timbers were still visible. “Big fat green oranges dropping down over Paris, Moscow…” David scowled. “I think they’re still the bad guys, right? The Russians?”

“Depends on the day.” The pain had begun to diminish, now only a dull thudding behind my eyes. “And everyone sent out their best, right?”

“Sure.” The elderly man sounded surprised. “The EU sent out Lovely Liv and Maggie Red.” Lowering his head, he continued. “They didn’t last long. Then Erik the Viking showed up and Tunnel Tim.”

“And they all went down.” I glanced over at a stack of hardcover art books waiting to be filed, the daily paper sitting atop the mess. Grabbing it, I began to flip through the pages, studying the pseudo-analysis being tossed out by all and sundry. “Nothing here at all.” The crackpot conspiracies were all over the place, from the alien invaders being part of the New-World-Order to the idea that the aliens were our ancient ancestors reclaiming their homeland. And, of course, nothing that came close to what I feared was the truth.

“Ah!” David’s cry brought me back out of the paper. He held up a cell phone. “Jessie’s on his way. Says he’d love to meet the famous Surf and see what he can do for her.” David laughed. “He’s still the same smartass you remember. Never forgave you for not coming back when you made it big, you know.”

I winced. The last thing I wanted to hear was my stage name. “Just call me Jo, okay?”

He held up his hands. “Hey, I never liked that one for you, really. Not very sexy, you know?”

My eyes were aching as I put the paper back down and rubbed my fingers on my jeans to get rid of the black newsprint. “I’m sorry, I’m just…” My attention went to the empty tray. “I don’t mean to be a bad guest, but is there a chance of getting anything else to eat? I could barely afford to get the streetcar here.”

The elderly man got to his feet so fast I worried that he’d break his hip in front of me. “What sort of manners do I have. Let me go in the back and see if I have anything in the mini-fridge—or would you like some pizza?”

My mouth began to water. “Isn’t it a bit early?”

“Pshaw! The Two-For-One three doors down have their ovens going already. And they love an early order to justify warming them up.” He pointed at the near-empty teapot. “You get a second pot going and I’ll put in the order. Double pepperoni and mushrooms, yes?”

I nodded, relishing the welcoming embrace of the cushions. As David disappeared into the rear of the store, I refilled the kettle with some bottled water and set it on the hot plate.

Coming home hadn’t been part of the plan. Any plan. Not in my wildest dreams had I ever envisioned returning to Toronto, not as a super and not as a regular person. I had kissed all that off when a mugger had slammed a brick into the side of my head one late night on my way home.

I must have closed my eyes and drifted off for a few minutes because the next thing I knew the kettle was whistling for attention. Before I could get it David had grabbed it off the hot plate.

“You are tired. Let’s get you stretched out here for a few minutes.” A short fat footstool materialized from out of one of the aisles, along with a crocheted afghan in southwestern colors, of all things. One went under my feet and the other tucked around my shoulders in seconds, almost as fast as Lightning Jack would have done it. “Pizza will be here in ten minutes. You rest. You’ve had one hell of a day.”

I opened my mouth to dispute it and then stopped. “Yeah, I have.” Shifting to one side, I tucked the afghan in around me. “Please don’t let anyone know I’m here.”

David let out a huff of indignation. “As if. This was your home before; it’s your home now.” He looked upward. “Apartment’s still there if you need it.”

“Hmm.” My eyes were heavy. “I’ll think about it.” Right after I figured out how I was going to save the world and my own life.

I must have dozed off again because the next thing I remember was having my senses assaulted with the delicious scent of melted cheese and dough. Struggling to sit up straight in the chair, I took the paper plate, which was bending under the weight of two huge slices of pizza, from David. A refreshed mug of tea sat on the table beside me.

“Jessie’s almost here. Be another ten minutes. He’s looking for some decent parking.”

“Downtown?” I mumbled through a thick pepperoni slice. “He’s a fool.”

“As usual. But you know him, always looking to save a dime.” He daintily chewed on a crust. “So, how’s he going to help you out?”

“Hopefully by doing some of that computer magic he’s so good at.” The pizza tasted better than the pizza in New York that Mike had had delivered whenever he had a craving for what he called “real” pizza. “I’ll explain it when he gets here.”

“Good idea. Now eat.” One aged hand pointed at the large cardboard box on the floor. “I’m an old man and I can’t eat all of this by myself.” He watched me intently as I grabbed another slice and maneuvered it onto the damp plate. “I saw some more news at the pizza place. Everyone’s got a television up for people to watch while they wait.”

I froze, a long string of melted cheese stretching from my mouth to the plate. “How bad?”

“Well…” David leaned back, rubbing his chin. “Right now it’s at a sort of standstill. The United Nations has called a special meeting to get everyone together—that is whoever doesn’t mind meeting under the shadow of that huge fat ship. There’s been no fighting for a few hours.”

“Nothing?”

“Well, the U.S. military lobbed a few shells at the one sitting over Seattle and they bounced off, doing more damage when they fell back to the ground than the aliens did. A few strafing runs by aircraft, but it doesn’t look like anyone is really doing more than just posturing for the press. Not after seeing so many heroes fall.” He took another sip of the cooling tea. “Funny thing is the alien guys, they’re not advancing. Not attacking the cities, not attacking the airplanes, no demands, no nothing. The fellows went back inside the ships after the fighting stopped—which is a good thing, I guess.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Explains a lot.”

The man slumped into his chair. “You going to explain this all?”

“I’ve got a theory. But first I have to get Jessie working on something, otherwise it’s not going to matter what I think.”

As if on cue a rapping came at the front door of the bookstore, bringing us both to our feet. David pointed at my chair, shaking his head.

“I’ll get it. Best not to tempt fate by having too many people see you.”

I responded by finishing off the pizza slice in my hand as he walked out of sight.

Out of curiosity I raised my free hand and collected a few of the waves floating around—the books, the table, even the Brown Betty. Clenching my teeth, I focused the electrical energy onto my fingertips, a new trick I had been working on with Mike’s direction.

“But I like the gloves,” I had protested, stealing the Sunday comics from his side of the table.

“Sure, they make it easier to do stuff if you’ve got them on.” He glanced over the business section. “But what if you don’t have them on?”

“Like when?” I snorted. “We’re always given time to suit up before a performance.”

“Yeah. But what if…” His dark chocolate hand reached around the paper to grab the last croissant off the plate, showing off his wristband. “I’m just saying.”

I felt a shiver down my spine, staring at the thin metal band, the recessed number pad and button almost out of sight. Mike never made a threat, never mentioned it, but it hung between us like a warped Damocles’ sword. My eyes narrowed. “You know something I don’t know?”

He lowered the paper an inch, meeting my stare. “I know lots of things you don’t know, girl. I’m your Guardian.” His tone was low and serious. “Don’t forget that.” The paper made a shuffling sound as he raised it up again, hiding his face. “Just think about it. Be a nice trick for the audience, hmm?”

A blue spark leapt from my index finger to my thumb. Only a small one, hardly enough to do much more than shock a person with the intensity of someone shuffling his feet along the carpet, but it was a start.

“Jo?” A man appeared in the narrow hallway. “Jo Tanis?” He stretched out his hand as I got to my feet and tossed the afghan to one side.

“Jessie?” When I had last seen Jessie Kellup he had been a gangly young man just starting into adulthood, falling over himself as he tried to figure out girls and computers and why they weren’t more alike. Now he was a tall strapping man in his twenties, ten years younger than me, with a flaming head of red hair that women would die to run their fingers through.

I didn’t know I had been holding my breath until he smiled, his hand still hanging in the air. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes I am.” I grinned, discovering that he, indeed, had a fine manly grip. “I’m sorry to drag you away from work.”

“Nah. Nothing going on there that I can’t do at home anyway.” He sat in the empty chair beside the tea set, placing his knapsack on the ground. After loosening his dark blue silk tie, he shuffled off his blazer. “Besides, a day out of the office is something I never pass up.”

“Thanks for coming.” I pulled the scrunchie from my hair, letting it fall loose. “Don’t mind me, have a bit of a killer headache.” I wrinkled my nose. “Not exactly ready for my photo shoot.”

“I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through.” Jessie nodded. “I’m just glad you’re still alive.”

“Yeah. So am I.” I glanced at David. “Can we use the upstairs? I’d rather you open the shop back up again and go about your day as normal. Don’t want to seem suspicious.”

“Sure.” David frowned. “Should I be preparing for trouble?”

“Maybe.” I got to my feet, finished off the tea and replaced the mug on the tray. “Let’s just say that the way things are right now I don’t want anyone to know I’m here. And you’re one of the only links to me, so…”

“Got it.” The elderly man tapped the side of his nose. “The stairs are where they always were and the room’s yours. Didn’t change a thing.”

“You figured I’d be back?” I shot over my shoulder as I walked towards the rickety old steps, Jessie a few paces behind.

“Be prepared,” David replied.

“You were never a Boy Scout.” The stairs were as noisy as I remembered them to be, a great security feature. Keep your fancy alarm systems. Give me a good set of creaking wood planks that’ll be impossible to stop from making noise.

“I always wanted to come up here.” Jessie chuckled as he followed me into the small apartment. “He never rented it out after you left, you know. Kept it until we saw you that first time on the television, then joked about making it into a museum. Charge admission to see where the famous Surf started out.”