After the funeral, word got around that there was some kind of movie marathon happening in the Lair, and Ella and her friends were already setting it up. The others wanted a distraction from their grief.
Marcus followed.
He always followed. Never said much, unless it was a sarcastic comment back at one of Zac's stupid jokes. Or something obvious that no one else was brave enough to voice.
Mosi always said less than he did. Marcus watched Mosi sometimes, the way his white eyes surveyed the situation, calculating it. Fearne had once said that Mosi's mind was one of the most beautiful and tortured places she'd ever visited. Marcus often wished he could sneak a peek at it.
He walked behind the others who were just as silent as he was, in their own thoughts. The SSS members – some he'd met at breakfast that morning but could not connect with – were trying to lighten the mood with their excitement in showing the new crowd their favorite superhero movies. Usually Marcus would have been ecstatic to sit in front of a television again, and even more excited to touch a computer, but today he didn't feel anything but sadness. It just didn't feel right without Benji, Fearne and his best friend Mosi.
Sometimes Zac joked that Marcus and Mosi were secretly in love. It had often come across Marcus's mind. He didn't understand their friendship, because he never fully understood Mosi. He was always a mystery and perhaps that's what drew Marcus to him. There were moments while they fought in the fitness room at ICE where they both paused, locked in each other's gaze, Marcus trying to read his thoughts but never cracking his hard exterior. And of course, Mosi hardly said a word.
Now the world felt empty, and no amount of movie education the SSS fans could give him would fill that hole.
"Hey."
Marcus snapped back to reality, realizing he was staring at one of the SSS members he hadn't met yet. He was in his mid-twenties, surely. Spanish or Latino with very dark skin, but not as dark as Mosi's. His hair was shaved short, his jaw lined with black stubble, his eyes careful and conniving. He wore thick clothes despite the heat of their location, his elbows on his legs, peering at Marcus curiously.
"What?" Marcus snapped.
"I think they're having trouble starting the movie," he said and cocked his head to the right.
Marcus looked up. Three of the comic book geeks he'd met that morning were arguing over which cable was missing. Marcus used to hang out with these types. He was often regarded as a god in their mind, his talent with technology blowing their Superman socks off. He sighed and sat back, not wanting to use his power anymore.
"They'll fix it," he said.
The guy moved closer to him, making Marcus frown. "You see, I don't think they will." Then he pulled a coaxial cable from his pocket, giving Marcus a sideways smirk. "I just like messing with them."
"You should probably meet Zac then. Messing with people is his specialty."
He looked at Zac and grimaced. "I hate that kid. He annoys the shit out of me."
Marcus breathed a laugh and held out his hand. "I'm Marcus."
"Zokani."
Marcus nodded. "Interesting name."
"I'm from Peru. I don't even think the name is native, but I like it."
"Uh-huh." They watched the three geeks turn the television upside down while the girls shouted at them to switch cables and everyone was growing increasingly frustrated.
"So what's your power?"
Zokani raised an eyebrow at him. "How'd you know?"
"You're different from them. A bit like me, actually."
"I can fly," said Zokani as he ripped the cable from his pocket and threw it at Peetee, who jumped in fright. "You may need this, putty."
Peetee glared at him but didn't say a word. Marcus distinctly noticed that Zokani was a bit of a dick and reminded him of his brother, but then that made him think of ICE, which again reminded him of Mosi and he needed a new distraction.
Fortunately, Zac was his answer.
"Why don't we all just get drunk and play 'Never Have I Ever'?" he shouted to the group.
Imogen and Ryo – the only small children left at the compound, were spending time with their family. Marcus then realized that getting drunk sounded like a pretty good idea until they finally got the movie playing.
Marcus retreated back into his world of sadness, conscious of Zokani's eyes still on him. A girl who looked very similar to Zokani flipped over the sofa and introduced herself as Koko, his sister. Marcus met many more faces as the movie played and tried to forget about Mosi and the others that died, focusing on the story playing out on the screen. But a guy with razor sharp blades coming out of his knuckles and a stupid haircut wasn't enough to make him forget how much he missed his friend.
So he went walking. The SSS compound was huge, with multiple levels, many locked doors and giant, empty rooms. After walking around for almost half an hour, Marcus stumbled upon the unmistakable sound of someone boxing and halted in his tracks.
He peered into a room decked out with gym gear. A boxing ring stood under floodlights in the corner. Mats were stacked beside it. Three punching bags – new ones, not like the tattered old bag they had at ICE – were being used by soldiers. And over on the other side, he spotted Ryo and her brother Yung dressed in black and white martial arts uniforms.
Ryo very rarely participated in their workouts at ICE, but Marcus knew she had been trained before. She also neglected to mention that her brother's superpower was martial arts itself. Marcus watched them from the doorway, amazed at his speed as he challenged his sister, blocking every one of her jabs and unafraid to knock her to the floor. But Ryo had a secret of her own. Every time her brother grew brave enough to strike her, she vanished and appeared behind him, looping her leg around his, prepared to knock him to the ground. But Yung never fell and, like a cobra, lashed out at her before she could trip him up.
This was how their fight went on, and the soldiers boxing on the other mats were soon engrossed in their dance. Marcus's heart ached, wishing Mosi were there to watch them too.
"You can come in," said a man to his left who was unstrapping his wrists. He had an Australian accent, a ripped body and was dripping in sweat. "We don't charge for an audience."
Marcus didn't answer, but stalked inside all the same.
Suddenly the man threw out his arm and stopped him. "There's a catch though," he added. There was a gleam in his eyes that Marcus recognized; the blissful gleam of adrenaline and a good, pumping fight.
"What's that?"
The guy handed him the straps. "There are no audiences. If you're here, you're here to join in."
Marcus surveyed Ryo and Yung once more and felt his heart start to pound in excited anticipation. This is exactly what he needed. He took the gloves.
"Sounds good to me."
"I'm Ace," he said. "Welcome to the Ring."