Don't Be a Hero: A Superhero Novel

22: Home, Whatever That Means

No. Gabby didn’t want to be a hero. The nightmares she had were bad enough. “That was all a long time ago,” Niobe said. “Before Kiloton nearly killed her.”

“So she’s a little broken. We all are. You, me, Quanta. Even Senior Sergeant Wallace. She doesn’t need you to protect her from the world. I reckon all she wants is your love and respect.”

She turned the cigarette in her fingers.

“Take it from me,” he said. “She’s no different from half the metas in this city. In her heart, she’s still a hero. She wants to help you. But if you keep pushing her away….” He shrugged.

She stared out the window, where a sliver of the Moon hung above the lights of Neo-Auckland. It was safe up there. No matter what Solomon said, that was what they wanted. Right?

The memories came back to her one by one, every fight, every hurt look in Gabby’s eyes. Every miscommunication. She touched the goggles in her lap, crafted with such care by the woman who loved her. Her beautiful, brilliant Gabby.

Goddamn it. He was right. And he’d never let her forget it.

“When’d you become such a goddamn guru, Carpenter?”

“Us old guys gotta have wisdom,” he said. “How else are we supposed to impress the ladies?”

They were silent for a while, but it was a peaceful silence. She’d been so dumb. But she’d make it up to Gabby. The city had gone quiet again, everyone sleeping safe and sound. At the top of the tallest towers, red lights blinked to warn off aircraft. Aside from the police dirigible hovering near the Old City, the night sky was clear. By now, Quanta and his gang would be in chains. The news would be filled with celebrations, and people across the city would be breathing sighs of relief.

She tried to summon some pride, but it didn’t come. She’d been wrong too often to pat herself on the back. She’d made Gabby cry too many times. And she hadn’t saved Sam yet.

Solomon must have read her thoughts. “We’ve done all we can tonight. Go home, get some rest. Talk to Gabby. Make up with her. That’s what I’ll be doing with my wife. God knows if I don’t spend some quality time with the family, Kate’s gonna string me up by my toes.”

“By your toes, huh? You’re into some weird sex, Carpenter,” she said.

Solomon threw his head back and laughed harder than the feeble joke deserved. She didn’t know whether it was the sleep deprivation or the aftereffects of the adrenaline, but a second later a laugh bubbled up inside her too, and soon they were both cracking up like a pair of drunks. The giggles washed over them, subsided, and then came again for no reason. The harder they tried to stop, the harder they laughed. Christ, it felt good.

Twenty minutes later, they pulled up behind her apartment building. Solomon wiped the tears from his eyes. “I’ll come pick you up tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” She opened the door.

“We’ll find him, mate,” he said.

She glanced back at him and smiled. “Yeah.” She shut the door and waved. He blinked the lights once, then pulled away and headed back towards his house.

She walked up the stairs, put her key in the door of her apartment, and opened it. As soon as she stepped inside, a wave of exhaustion washed over her. Part of her was telling her to get back out there and find Sam. But she knew she couldn’t walk another step without falling asleep on her feet. Besides, the Carpenter was right. In the morning, she had amends to make.

She went to the kitchen and drained two glasses of water, then opened the door to the bedroom. It was dark inside. Gabby would be asleep. Turning on the light would wake her, so Niobe kicked off her shoes in the darkness, dropped her coat to the ground, peeled out of her bodysuit, and snuggled beneath the covers. It was a little cold. She reached over, feeling for Gabby.

She wasn’t there.

Blinking, Niobe sat up in bed and flicked on the bedside lamp. The bedroom was still as a tomb, and the duvet on Gabby’s side was crisp and unwrinkled. There was no light creeping out from under the bathroom door. Gabby was nowhere.

Niobe threw back the covers and padded naked to Gabby’s wardrobe. Her heart felt like lead as she pulled open the doors. All Gabby’s favourite clothes were missing. “No,” Niobe said to the empty room.

She flicked on the light to the bathroom. There should have been two toothbrushes in the cracked mug by the sink. There was only one. “No.”

Niobe came back into the bedroom, and her eyes fell on Gabby’s bedside table. A quarter inch-thick sheaf of paper and a small plastic box sat next to her old clock. Niobe’s legs shook like a rag doll’s as she crossed the room.

She looked at the box first, shaking it as she picked it up. Ammunition. The bullets looked like her charged rounds, but with a sharpened tip and a thick black coating. There was something scribbled on the box lid. Prototype shield-breaker rounds.

She put the ammo box down and turned her attention to the pile of papers. A note was paperclipped to the top page. Trembling, she picked it up and perched herself on the edge of the bed.

N,

I loved you, but you haven’t let me into your world for so long. I can’t take the lies. Not anymore.

The rounds might help against Quanta. This is the last thing I’ll do for you.

I’m sorry.

G

She read the note again and again, until she could picture the delicate curve of every letter even when she closed her eyes. Her throat was tight. A breeze blew against her skin and made her shiver, but she made no move to pull the covers around her.

When she couldn’t bear to look at the note anymore, she picked up the rest of the papers. She recognised her own handwriting on the first page. It was the note she wrote to herself when Quick-fire came by, the note giving Quanta’s real name. Beneath it was clean, white paper, typewritten and annotated with Gabby’s flowing script. Courtesy of the Metahuman Division’s new computer filing system, it recorded every known fact about a certain Morgan Shepherd, wanted throughout Europe, last seen in Madrid in 1962. On the second page was a sketch Gabby had done based on a photograph. The drawing was near-perfect. The boyish Quanta stared out of the page, grinning.

Niobe hurled the pages at the wall. They broke free of the paperclip and flew apart like a snowstorm, slipping under the bed and behind the bedside table. The first sob caught her by surprise, but soon they were tumbling over each other on the way out of her throat. Niobe curled up on the bed and let her tears trickle onto the sheets.

~~~

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