Fire Hazard: Cape High Book Eight (Cape High Series 8) (4 page)

"Uncle Flint!" she calls, starting for them.  A hand grabs her wrist and she looks at Tank.  "What?"

"Who's that?" Tank asks.

"My Uncle Flint," she says.  "Would you let go already?  I want to meet the new guy!"

"No, I don't think so," Tank says, hauling her closer.  She lets him, because her attention is on the teen who's staring straight at her.  The wind blows his hair up, and for a moment she thinks it looks like a lighted match.  The thought makes no sense, though, since his hair is black.

"Jimmi?" Flint asks.

"Let's go," the teen says, getting in the passenger side.  Flint hesitates, looking at Jimmi with a strange expression before taking off.

"What was that?" Tank demands, turning her so he's glowering at her.  "Out to make a new friend?  We were following him just a moment ago!"

"He's one of us, Tank!" she protests, pulling away.

"He will NEVER be one of us," Tank snarls.  "Get in the truck.  We're leaving."

"But--"

"Get in the truck, Jimmi!" he snaps.

***

"You could have introduced yourself," Flint says as he drives us back to his place.

"With her growling boyfriend right behind her?" I ask, snorting.  "No thanks.  They followed me for half an hour without introducing themselves. I really doubt they want me to."

"That boyfriend of hers," Flint says as we pull into the driveway, "is he a tank?"

"Don't know," I admit, "I haven't spent enough time with Trent to know for sure."  I get out, grabbing the groceries from the back and heading into the house.  "I'm not exactly the type that can pick up on whether someone's a cape or not," I admit as I start putting things away in the empty fridge.  He hadn't been kidding--he obviously doesn't cook.  "The boyfriend is going to make things harder," I say mildly as I sort out the things I want.  I'm starving, and something simple sounds decent.  A burger will do.

"He avoids us," Flint says, dropping down on a lay-z-boy and flipping the television on.  I suddenly feel like a housewife, but honestly it's not that new of a feeling.  "I think he knows Alonso's a super."

"Does he know he's Voltdrain?" I ask.  Honestly I'd never heard of Voltdrain until Nico brought him up, but that fact sort of shocks me, as well.

"No clue, it's not like he comes to the family barbecues."

"Barbecues?" I say, washing my hands and getting the burgers ready.  "I like barbecue.  Do you do dry rub or wet rub in this area?"  He looks at me as if I'm speaking a foreign language.  "Never mind, I'll ask someone that actually cooks."

"Your appearance is really throwing me off right now," he points out as I toss the burgers into a skillet.  "The whole cooking talk is really... off."

"I cook for all the zoo kids," I say, getting a salad ready and whisking up my own dressing.  "I'm second in command, or so they tell me."  I pull out the condiments, tossing together an easy combination topping for the burgers. 

"The zoo kids?" he asks.  I'm feeling the most comfortable I've felt all day, I think as I flip the burgers and glance over at him.  "That story--I know that one.  They're the kids that were kept as display for a depraved norm.  Some of them for--"

"Over a year.  I was at a year, almost," I say casually, waiting for his response.  "They stuck us in glass boxes and fed us through little holes.  There weren't any doors.  The bathrooms were in a corner in the back.  We had to come up with our own ways of having privacy for that.  It was really boring," I summed it up too easily.  There are a lot worse words than boring that apply to that year.

"I see," he says quietly.  "Why didn't you burn your way out?"

"There was only so much oxygen in my box," I say flatly.  I knocked myself out so many times in the middle of the night, trying to burn through the glass.  It was never enough.

He looks pale, I think as I put the burgers together and carry plates out to the front room.  I hand him one and sit down on the couch with my own, not mentioning the dining room table covered with junk.  It's good to eat.  I finish off my meal without a word, completely ignoring the unspoken tension in the room.  I feel it, don't get me wrong, but I have no reason to respond to it.  It had happened, we'd been let free.  Now I have new problems to deal with.

"Do you... want to talk about it?" he asks after finishing his own food.

"Nope, but we all do once a week," I tell him, standing and taking his plate and mine into the kitchen.  "America's Son comes and talks with us."  I glance at my watch.  "Right about now, actually.  He's a pastor, so he's pretty good at helping the rest of the group work through their issues."

"What about you?" he asks quietly.

"I don't have any," I say.  "It happened.  I got over it.  Life goes on."  My phone rings, and I sigh as I put down the dishes and pick it up.  "Yo," I say.

"It's time for our session," Ken says with a little smile in his voice.  "Want to do it over the phone or should I come over?"

"Phone's fine," I say.  I halfway expected this to happen, but arguing with an S class tank--

I stop, realizing belatedly.  "The boyfriend's not a tank," I tell Flint bluntly.

"How do you know?"

"Because I spend half an hour with the biggest tank on earth every week. There's a definite natural reaction to a tank.  He doesn't get it."

***

This kid, Flint thinks, isn't natural, especially not for a fire type.  He's cool-headed and stable, even discussing a tragic past with a bland expression and an attitude that says he was never bothered by it.  He can hear the teen talking with America's Son in the other room--they're talking about cooking, it sounds like, with America's Son doing the questioning.  This is his weekly therapy session?

Then America's Son asks something strange.  "How is it, not being surrounded by the zoo kids?"

Vinny goes quiet for a long moment.  "I feel... a bit lonely," he says quietly, "off."

"Don't worry, Vin, you'll find someone you can take care of down there," America's Son says gently.  "In the meanwhile, I want you to do me a favor, okay?"

"Yeah?  What?"

"Jack says he's been promised your debut when you get back.  I don't like the idea of it happening without you two practicing first.  Unfortunately, you're in different states.  So when you come up with a new move you have to Skype us and show, okay?"

"Fine," Flint hears the boy say.  He stops listening as he hears someone pull up into his driveway.  Idly he gets up, heading to the window and watching as the bike Vinny had brought with him is unloaded into his driveway.

"Hey, Vinny?  Your bike is here," he calls out.

"Coming!"  A few seconds later the boy comes out, looking almost excited.  He heads right past Flint and out the door, to where Century is standing next to the bike.

"You didn't tell me that it was electric," Century says in a mild tone.  "Although, considering your technopath principal, I should have realized.  Either way, here's your bike, the license is on it, here's your title, and here are your keys," he says, handing each of them to me.  "Now you need to get your bike license."

"Oh, right."

"Tomorrow you can go for the test," he says, “I’ve already made the arrangements.  It’ll be after school.”

Looks like he'll have to drive the kid to school tomorrow.  Running might make the kid stand out too much.

***

I can't sleep.  Flint's place is too quiet, I think, rolling off of the bed and heading into the front room.  Flint is gone. He's doing night duty, or something, leaving me all alone in the house.  I unlock the door and step outside, looking up at the night sky in only my boxers.  It's cooler than it was this morning, but still a bit muggy.  I don't mind, I decide as I look at the roof of the two story house.  I look around, then cross the street in front of the house to get a running start, jumping onto the roof.

That's better, I think, as I lie down and stare up at the stars.  It’s good to feel the wind on my skin, playing with my hair, knowing that there are no walls around me.  It's a lot better.  Still lonely, I admit after a few minutes of looking up at the moon.

I keep thinking of Jimena.  No, not in a crush sort of way, or anything, just... she's stuck in my mind.  Probably because I'm here to save her, but I just walked away, leaving her with the pawsy boyfriend.  Guilt?  Yeah, probably.  Well, maybe.  She got herself into this, right?  She's a cape, she has a say in who she's dating, who she's hanging out with.  The only reason I'm here is because the adults in her life don't agree with all that.  That sort of makes me the bad guy to her, right?  Nobody likes being dragged out of a situation that they chose.

Do they?

"Sup?"  I jerk, looking blankly at the black clad super floating over my head.  For a second I just stare at him, until he lands on the roof and sits down next to me. 

"You flew halfway across the country just to say 'sup'?" I ask Max.

"No, I flew halfway across the country to yell at you for promising Jack your debut over a stupid motorcycle," he says, making himself comfortable right next to me.  "Nice night."

"It's too quiet," I say.  "My host is out saving the world, so it's just me in this big house."

"Aww, poor Vinny, want me to sleep over?" Max taunts.  "I'll change into my jammies and we can watch Bond movies until morning."

"That would be funny if I didn't actually have to watch them," I drawl.  "What do you want, Max?"

"You're vulnerable," he says simply.  "Without the rest of the zoo kids surrounding you, we can actually talk.  If Trent could fly and didn't have a curfew, he'd probably be here right now, doing exactly what I'm doing."

"Why?" I ask blankly, feeling even more stunned by that idea than I was by Max just showing up.

"Because you're going to have to talk to us when you're alone," he says, propping his head on his hands and looking at the moon.  "I don't get you, Vinny," he says.  "You've got the ability to become one of the perfect photo-op heroes, but you don't seem to give a crap.  You could do anything you wanted as a leader of the zoo kids, but all you do is make sure they're fed and watered."

"They aren't puppies, Max," I point out.

"My question is... what do we have to do to get you living again, man?" he asks, turning and looking me straight in the eyes.  "For some of you it's obvious, they're hurt and they're only starting to recover, but you... I don't even know," he says, sounding frustrated.  "It's like there's a part of you that is, put bluntly, dead.  And don't tell me I'm wrong, I've been watching you for months now.  You're probably going to become one of the ones I fight regularly."

"I think you're dreaming," I tell him, turning away.  "You want to see something in me that's never been there, Max.  Just because all the other capes have quirks--"

"It's not that," he says.  "I don't know what it is, honestly," he admits.  "You don't seem to have any dreams--any desires.  All you focus on is cooking!  Cooking is fine--it's great, okay?  But there's more to life than just cooking, Vin.  There are a lot of things. Are you honestly
friends
with any of the zoo kids, or are you just their second in command?"

"We're more than friends," I say, gritting my teeth, “we're family."

"Fine, but sometimes you need a friend more than you need your family," he says, "which is why we're going to send someone out to you whenever we can--"

"We?  Is Nico behind this?" I demand.

"No, I am.  And we'll only be sending apartment kids at first."

"Why?"

"Because I think you need to know that you can rely on us, not just be the guy that's relied on."

"You're a super villain," I point out, "have you forgotten that?"

"Titles don't matter for the Cape High kids," Max says.  Then he lets out a groan, falling back on the roof again and making himself comfortable.  "I'm already here, I'm not going back home in the same night," he declares.  "I'll go raid your clothes," he declares, dropping down from the roof and heading into the house.

"Max--you jerk," I mutter, giving up far too easily.  Looks like he hadn't been joking about the sleepover.  Man, here I thought the zoo kids were weird--turns out the apartment kids are just as strange.

"That's him," Tank says, scowling at the teenager lying on the roof.  They had been searching Jimmi’s neighborhood all night to find the guy.  "He was staring at my girl."  He glances at the older guy standing next to him, the one that everyone actually listens to in the Glowstick Gang.  "We gotta teach him a lesson, Speed."

"He doesn't look like much," Speed says, scowling.  "Was Jimmi pissed about him staring?"

"Does it matter? 
I
was!"

"Yeah, but--"

"We're taking him down, now, Speed.  We just need to get him down from there."

Speed scowls, looking at Tank for a long moment.  The guy's obsession with the super girl is starting to grate on his nerves.  It's amazing that she's still around, honestly, because she's way too good for an idiot like Tank.  She's just a moron, he adds dryly. 
He
would kick Tank to the curb, himself, if he could.  Unfortunately, Tank’s creepy grandfather is the one that provides the special glow-stick tubes.  They need those tubes. 

"
Fine,
" Speed says.  He steps into the street, holding his usual metal pipe in his hand.  Half of the group steps out of the shadows, surrounding the house.

"Hey!  You!" Speed calls up to the teen above them.  "We need to talk."  There should be panic, he thinks idly as the guy slowly sits up, yawning loudly.  There’s a large group of guys surrounding the house in the middle of the night, lit eerily by the glow-sticks hanging from their necks.  But all this kid does is look at them with a bored expression.

"Man, I was just about to get to sleep," he says.  "Nice pipe, you a plumber?"

"You were staring at my boy's girl.  We're going to fix that problem now," Speed says, wondering why he suddenly feels a little nervous.  "Get down here."

"Come up here," the teen says.  "But you might want to make it quick, Max is going to find my clothes sooner or later."  Then, to Speed's complete shock, he yawns again and lies down.

"Take down the house," Speed orders the others.  They start forward, only to go completely still as the front door opens and a guy wearing a pair of knit pants and carrying a bag of marshmallows steps out.  He looks at them all blankly for a moment, but not nearly as blankly as they look at him.

"Vinny?  You didn't tell me there were visitors," the newcomer says.  "I would have brought more marshmallows."

"Dude, if you think I'm going to roast marshmallows for you, you've got another thought coming," the guy from the roof calls down to him.

"I even found sticks, man!"

"I'll tell you what you can do with your sticks--"

"Don't just stand there, take him down!" Tank bellows.  The gang rushes forward, only to get slammed to the ground so hard that Speed hears things crack.  He's guiltily glad that he hadn't listened to Tank.

"Dude, Max, let them up," the kid on the roof says, moving to the edge and looking down at them.  "I want to make friends here, not enemies."

"Oh, right," Max says.  The guys on the concrete let out groans and a few of them slowly get to their feet.  "Sorry."

"You guys are supers, right?  That's why he's dating the girl with the glowing eyes," the one called Vinny says, standing on the edge of the roof and jumping down.  He lands easily.  He’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and earrings that glow in the dark.   "I think supers should stick together, don't you, Max?" he asks his pal.

"How do we know you're a super?" Tank demands stupidly.  Tank needs his head bashed in, Speed thinks viciously.  As if it weren't obvious by the jump.

"This is my interview, right?  I show my powers and I get to join the gang--without you trying to take out my uncle's place.  He wouldn't appreciate that on my watch," Vinny says.  "Bear with me, I'm still learning," he adds as Max walks over to his side, getting a marshmallow out of the bag and a stick.  For a moment Vinny gives Max a dark look.

"What?  It's the perfect time for a s'more," Max says.

"Shuddup, Max," Vinny says.  The Max guy makes Speed more nervous than Vinny does, for obvious reasons.  Then, just as he's decided Max is the threat, Vinny's hair lights on fire.  The teen holds his hands out, clenching them as they light on fire as well.  He looks like a demon, Speed thinks as he takes a step back unconsciously, and he's staring straight at him.  "Whaddaya think?" he asks.  "Good enough?"

Good enough?  This is another honest-to-God super, Speed thinks in shock.  He would make the second real super in the group--with him they could do ANYTHING!

"I'm not impressed," Tank snarls.

"Dude, give up your girlfriend now, you've got no chance," Speed mutters under his breath before stepping forward.  "So do both of you want in?" he asks, looking at Max.

"Max has to head home," Vinny says, letting the flames die and holding out a hand to Speed.  "He's got school."

"School?  You actually go to school?" Speed asks Max.

"Yeah, my girlfriend insists," Max says, munching on marshmallows he'd roasted behind Vinny's back--literally.

***

I think this is going pretty well.  Well, other than Max using me as a fireplace.  I reach out, grabbing his stick of marshmallows from him and eating the last one.  "Well, I got school tomorrow, too," I say.  "So... do any of you go to school?  It really sucks being the new guy."

"Tank does," Speed says, “because Jimmi insists."

Okay, maybe not as well as I'd hoped, I think as I look at the muscle-bound teenager in question.  "Something’s off.  If these guys are capes I'll throw mine in," Max whispers silently as he takes the stick back.  He’s right, I think.  Century had said something along the same lines--there are too many of them, for one.  Maybe just the two in front of me are really capes.  I’m not sure, really.

"Doesn't matter," I whisper back just as silently.  "The one I'm after really is, and these guys have her."

"I ain't being friends with this girlfriend stealer!" Tank snaps.

"I'm not out to steal your girl," I say, looking him straight in the eyes.  I'm not, either.  That they want me to get her out of the gang is different from me wanting to date her.  The last crush I had was stupid enough.  I'm not going to repeat it.  I still wince whenever I see goggles, okay?  "I was watching her because it's obvious she's one of us."

The tall guy that's in control gives Tank a dark look.  "He's one of us," he snaps.  "Get over it."  Tank gives me a dark, hate-filled look, and I stare back at him blandly. 

"He's going to be a pain," Max whispers.  "Hey, light up again, I'm still hungry," he says a bit louder.  I give him a dark look, and then reluctantly light my hand up so he can roast his marshmallow.

"Don't you think you should take your powers a little more seriously?" the tall guy asks.

"Why?" Max asks.  "I do all sorts of stupid stuff with mine."

"And buses," I drawl, grabbing his stick when the marshmallows are perfectly brown.  If I’m the reason they’re toasted, I’m going to eat them!

"Don't make me throw a bus at you, man," he says, grabbing the stick back and eating the last one before I get the chance.

"Well... y'know, Max has a long flight in the morning, and I have to look good for my first day. So... talk to you tomorrow?" I ask the tall guy.  "Wait, what's your name?"

"He's Speed," the boyfriend says, "I'm Tank."

"How original," Max says.  "Can I guess--that's Illusion, that's Telekinesis, and that's, what would it be?" he asks me.

"Shape-shifter," I provide cheerfully.

"Right!"

They're all giving us dirty looks, so I shrug.  "Sorry, he's got a terrible sense of humor," I say.

"What's your name?" Tank asks.

"It should be flames, right?" Max asks.

"Nah, it'd be Pyro," I tell him.  I have GOT to stop giving these guys crap--I blame it on Max.  I think there's a ton of things I could blame on Max if I let myself.

"I like it," Speed says.  "Nice to meet you, Pyro.  And you?" he asks Max.

"Maximum," Max says.

"Like the super villain?  Isn't that ripping off his name?" Tank asks.

"It would be," Max says.  "I think I'm going to call the bed," he decides as he heads inside.  "You can take the couch, Vin!"

"Like hell I will," I say, chasing after him.  They're still staring at us stupidly as we close the door in their faces--and burst out laughing.

***

The house is in one piece, Flint thinks as he lands in front, going through the door.  The kitchen is a bit of a mess, and smells like burnt marshmallows--and strewn over the front room are two teenage boys, sound asleep.  He glances at Vinny, then heads to the other, who's sprawled across the floor and sleeping on a throw pillow.  He looks familiar, Flint thinks idly.

"Wake up," he says loudly, "time to get dressed for school."

"Five more minutes," the kid on the floor mutters, rolling onto his side and nuzzling into the pillow.

"Century said he was bringing in one of you, not the whole gang," Flint complains.  "When did he fly you in?"

"Max flies himself in," Vinny mutters, still half asleep.  He reluctantly opens his eyes, looking at Flint in his uniform.  "Red and yellow, how traditional," he says blandly before getting off the couch and stepping over Max.  "I'm taking a shower.  You're going to be late for school, Max."

"Don't wanna."

"Which means late to see your girlfriend," Vinny adds, "Zoe might find a new man."

"That will happen over his dead body!" Max declares, getting up in an instant.  "Nice to meet you. Gotta go," he adds to Flint, disappearing in a rush that sends paper flying through the room.

"
His
dead body?" Flint repeats a bit blankly before dropping on the couch and flipping on the news.

***

"So it's over at three, right?" Flint asks me as he pulls up to the curb of the school.  "We're going to get your license afterwards, so don't be late."

"I got it," I tell him as I get out and sling my bag over my shoulder.  "And Max shouldn't be over tonight... although there might be someone else, I can't swear," I admit.

"They really like you, huh?"

"I didn't realize that group did," I say quietly, still a bit stunned over the fact that I'd just hung out with Maximum half a country away from home.  "Three o'clock," I say, rather than going into it.  "Don't scratch my baby if you have to move her," I add before heading towards the school.

In all the movies this is where you're supposed to feel really awkward, maybe meet the girl you're going to crush on, or the guy you're going to fight with, whatever.  I have no expectations for any of that, honestly.  I'm just a wiry looking punk Italian kid from Missouri in a school full of Texans.  Sounds weird, huh?  Doesn't matter, I don't plan on being here very long at all.

Someone grabs my arm and I look over a bit blankly.  "Speed says you're one of us," Jimena says, grinning widely at me.  She's shorter than I am, with short purple-black hair and sunglasses that don't hide the glowing orange eyes at this distance.  "They're thinking of letting you join the gang!"

Like I want to be part of that gang, I think dryly.  "Cool," I say, giving her a slight grin.

"I'm Jimmi, by the way," she says, holding out a ringed hand.  I shake it, since she offered, and discreetly pull out of her grasp.  I'm getting some dark looks from all around--and Tank isn't even there to give them.  I catch a hesitant look cross her face, though, and wonder what I did wrong.  "So are you from around here?" she asks, covering it up quickly.

"Nah, I'm from Missouri," I say.  It's too late to hide the fact that I know Maximum.  "I've come to stay with my uncle for a little while--get some pointers on my... skills."

"The fire?" she whispers.

"No, the cooking," I drawl.

She starts laughing.  "If you've come to Uncle Flint to learn to cook you're going to be really disappointed," she says.

"So they told you I was at his place?" I ask.

"Yeah, and that you were with a Maximum impersonator," she says.  "Really, if you're from there, wouldn't it be stupid pretending to be him?" she whispers urgently.  "He's seriously dangerous, right?"

I think about Max. I think about all the sparring I've caught sight of during first hour at school.  "Yeah, I suppose it would be," I say thoughtfully.

"Aren't you worried about him?" she asks.  "He's your friend, right?"

"I'm not worried at all," I say.  "He's tough."

"Yeah, but Maximum--"

"If Max went up against Maximum... it'd be really boring," I tell her silently, thinking--"Well, no, that's a lie.  There'd be a lot of mic hogging, a few new craters, and way too many buses involved," I decide.  She looks at me blankly and then frowns.

"You're making fun of me!" she declares.

"Teasing you," I correct, pulling out the piece of paper they'd given me.  "Um... where's locker 117?" I ask.  "Not that I have any books to put in it."