"How's he holding up?"
I looked over from my spot in the armchair by the fireplace to see Hunter poking his head around the living room door. Rylan was asleep on the couch, exhausted and sore following his superhero battle, but he had made it out in one unbroken piece.
Rylan looked so innocent in sleep, his lips pouted, fingers limp and hanging off the cushions. Leaning forward, I lightly ran my hand through his rumpled hair. Rylan twitched but didn't wake. "He's fine," I said. "Achy... but fine."
Hunter coughed, forcing my eyes away from the sleeping boy on my couch. "Umm... I actually meant Connor...."
I shook my head in disbelief. "Of course you did." Pressing a finger to my lips, I waved Hunter toward the kitchen door. "Come on, I don't want to wake him."
Once in the kitchen, Hunter immediately tore into a bag of Italian bread sitting on the counter and rummaged around the fridge for ingredients to make a sandwich. He loaded three slices of bread with turkey, roast beef, pickles, both cheddar and mozzarella cheeses, and a big glob of mayonnaise. After taking a bite, Hunter's eyes rolled back in his head. This was one of those moments that reminded me how Hunter and my brother had become friends. Sure, superpowers were a good bonding agent, but an obsession with food and a blatant disregard for others' personal property was better.
Leaning next to him on the kitchen island, I asked the question that haunted me since the television flickered in Mrs. Amherst's study hall.
"Hunter, what was that thing?" In all my years living in Morriston, I had never seen anything like the robot man. Supers tended to favor spandex suits with bright colors—the more outlandish, the better—not full body armor.
Hunter tore off another bite of his sandwich. "I don't know."
"Do you think it's going to come back?"
This time, he offered me a bite. Noticing the pickle juice and mayo dripping from the bread, I declined. "I don't know." He paused, eyes raking over my face. "Did you tell Connor?"
I stiffened. "Tell Connor what?"
Hunter shrugged. "Sarah texted me. She told me you want to find someone to help him."
"Oh. Of course she did." Not that I could blame her. But fantasizing about pulling a super out of retirement to help my brother was one thing. Successfully finding that certain super was the real issue.
Hanging my head, I started picking at my fingernails. Now I regretted not taking Hunter's sandwich. I needed something to hold onto. "No. I haven't told him yet. I—I will, but I'm just—"
"Worried it won't work? It's a good idea, Abby. Word of advice though, figure it out sooner rather than later. Dude's messed up enough as it is."
"Who's messed up?"
Our heads snapped to the doorway as Connor strutted in the room and began fixing a sandwich nearly identical to Hunter's. He scowled while forcefully spreading mayonnaise, splattering the cabinets with little white dots.
"Uhh... Rylan?" Hunter said his name like it was a question. I elbowed him in the ribs, and he instantly started filling his mouth with food.
"Oh yeah," Connor said. "I saw him in there. Almost pushed him off my couch."
"Connor!"
"But I didn't." Connor brandished his mayo knife near the tip of my nose. "Because I'm nice. It's his own fault though. If I were fighting that thing today, there's no way in hell I'd let it hurt me that easily."
By now, Hunter had finished his snack and wrapped an arm around my brother's shoulders. "Don't blame Rylan, dude, he's still new at this."
"You're siding with him?" Connor shrugged Hunter off and began slapping even more food on his sandwich. Ketchup and onions and ground meat and... syrup? "I'm surprised you have the time to deal with some rookie. I know how busy you are."
"C'mon, Connor, don't be like that. I'm not taking sides. Hey!" Hunter grinned, gesturing outside. "I'm free now. You want to go somewhere? Catch up?"
"Nope. Sorry." Connor scooped up his plate, leaving a mess of crumbs behind, and nudged open the kitchen door with his foot. "I'm too... busy."
When a door finally slammed upstairs, Hunter puffed out his cheeks and loudly exhaled. A single curl of hair flopped across his forehead.
"Do whatever you can to help him. Let me know if you need anything." His blue eyes, usually so vibrant, looked sad. "And Abby? Hurry."
*******
I reentered the living room an hour later to find Rylan yawning, curling his legs up to his chest, and burying his head in the couch cushions. Before he could fall asleep again, I plopped down beside him, trying not to jostle him too much. "Hey, boy genius." I ruffled his hair. "I need help."
"With what?" Rylan mumbled from beneath a pillow.
"Research."
Rylan groaned, shaking off the last few dregs of slumber, and sat up. "For what?"
"Hunter was here while you were sleeping. He thinks I should go through with helping Connor." I looked to the ceiling where my brother hid in his bedroom. "As quickly as possible. So I need a name, a vague description, a favorite color, anything that will help me track someone down."
"Oh, is that all? Maybe we should let Sarah organize that bake sale. It might yield better results." Rylan gingerly poked a bruise on his shoulder, wincing. He leaned against my side and nodded at the laptop propped up on my knees. "All right. Let's do it."
But I found my confidence waning, crashing into a brick wall and exploding in a puff of smoke as I watched the icon swirl in the center of my screen, loading. Find a person whose name I didn't even know? Sure, let me get right on that. Allow me to also prove the existence of aliens while I was at it. This was a seemingly impossible task, and while Rylan and I had accomplished those before, this one was different. A name, an age, a gender? I had none of those. And supers were different in the real world than they were on camera. I knew that first hand. These people were retired now; they obviously wanted nothing to do with saving others. Would they be willing to help a kid they didn't even know?
The cursor in the empty search bar blinked in time with the grandfather clock down the hall, mocking me. Tick tock. You're blocked. Tick tock. You're blocked. I hesitated, finally realizing that there was only one good place to start. Slowly, I typed the address of city hall's website.
When the page loaded, my stomach dropped. There, front and center, was a picture of my father. It was an older one—his hair only showed a few streaks of gray—but he still wore his usual crisp black suit and favorite red and gold tie. And he still smiled that clean, professionally bleached smile.
When was this picture taken? Before my mother died? It was definitely taken long before he checked into rehab.
Looking at him felt like a punch to the gut, and I was shocked his picture was still on the website at all. Even though the city hadn't appointed a new mayor yet, I assumed they would have extinguished any memory of Benjamin Hamilton from the internet.
Rylan tugged the laptop toward him and navigated to a new page labeled "Supers of Yesterday & Today!" which claimed to list every hero currently or previously active in Morriston. This was a start. Rylan scrolled down a bit. The first photo on the page: Red Comet. Someone had placed a big black question mark over his mask. I found myself once again glancing at the ceiling under Connor's room.
Beneath Red Comet's picture was a photo of Iron Phantom looking ridiculously bored at a press conference. Part of me wondered if Isaac was the one who snapped the picture. Iron Phantom's eyes were scrunched up, his mouth hanging wide open with a piece of gum stuck to his tongue.
"Ugh. I need to demand they change that." Rylan scrolled further down, past Hunter's photo, all the way to the bottom of the page. "Wait, that's it? Where's everyone else?"
"Look." I jabbed a finger at a large block of text on the screen. "'We are sorry for any inconvenience, but due to privacy rights of veteran heroes in the City of Morriston, only supers' pseudonyms will be provided in our online database. If you seek additional information, such as height, weight, specific powers, or photographs for research purposes only, we encourage you to visit us in the Edward Morriston City Library and speak with one of our friendly representatives.' Well crap."
"What's wrong?"
"If they're not willing to put that info online, then it's not going to be laying around in the library where just anyone could find it. Meaning, it will be on a floor with private access."
"Okay..." Rylan rubbed his chin. "I can teleport us in..."
"Without asking anyone? There are too many security cameras. It would look suspicious." I'd never been on the private floor of the City Library, but my dad had. It housed all kinds of city and state documents that were almost impossible to view without government identification or an extensive recommendation from a university professor. To get a key to enter, you needed to clear your research with a librarian who gave you the third degree before deciding whether or not you were "worthy." The whole thing was a giant hassle, which was why many people didn't attempt it. Villain or otherwise.
I heaved a sigh, watching Rylan pick at one of the many fresh scabs dotting his forearms. "Any other ideas?"
"Besides organizing a bake sale and a phone-a-thon?" He smiled a little. "Just one."
"Which is?"
"Against my better judgement, I let Hunter organize a meet and greet for Iron Phantom tomorrow. I was contemplating cancelling it, but now I'm thinking I might change the location instead."
"To the library?" A plan began to take shape in my mind. Iron Phantom could get us into the private access wing. One smile, a witty joke, and some eyelash batting and those librarians would be putty in his gloved hands. And even if he couldn't talk his way in, his presence would create enough of a distraction while I snuck in there myself.
"You're sure?" I asked Rylan. "You can do that?"
"Abigail, I am the city's most" —he cringed— "the city's most popular superhero. I'm learning I can do just about anything."
*******
Never—and I mean never—did I think I would be standing in an endless line to meet and greet my boyfriend, wearing a graphic T-shirt with his face on it. This was a new low.
"I bet he smells amazing!" The girl in front of me gushed to her friend. They both looked around thirteen, maybe fourteen on a good day. The first girl's name was Jillian; the second was Sandy. And I only knew that because of the homemade poster they were carrying that read Jillian and Sandy heart Iron Phantom! I smirked at their black Iron Phantom shirts, matching their black hair, nails, and boots. Fangirl alert. I felt like I was betraying Sarah by thinking this, but these girls could give her a run for her money.
"I guarantee he smells even better than Red Comet," Jillian started telling the group of girls in front of her and Sandy. "I met him once and he smelled okay, but I bet Iron Phantom smells a million times better. Right, Sandy?"
Sandy clapped her hands over her mouth and giggled. Frankly, I was surprised either of them were still standing after getting a whiff of my brother.
Think of the plan, I reminded myself. You're doing this for Connor.
"The plan" was a loose outline at best. Rylan and I had cobbled it together this morning, not positive it would work. Iron Phantom would swipe a key to the private wing of the library from one of the librarians while they were too busy fawning over him during the meet and greet, which he would pass off to me once I reached the front of the line. My job was to blend in as much as possible until then. Hence my Iron Phantom-inspired attire.
Once I got the key, I would be sneaking upstairs alone. We both agreed that it would be weird for a super like Iron Phantom to get caught looking up information about other supers. Especially considering his so-called "villainous" past.
The biggest problem was that, assuming I managed to get into the private access wing, I had no clue what kind of book I was looking for. Rylan was working on it, but I didn't know how much progress he was making.
"And his voice!" Jillian was still ranting, this time to a group of teenage boys that seemed like they couldn't care less. "It's beautiful! Sometimes I wish I could tear out his vocal cords and eat them, so maybe I can sound half as gorgeous as he does."
Aaaand on that note...
I pulled out my phone to text Rylan to hurry up, but I didn't get the chance. Two doors behind the library's front desk opened with a loud squeak and Iron Phantom, followed by a horde of guards and library personnel, funneled into the room.
The crowd went wild. Some were cheering. Most were just sobbing. How did Sarah do it all those years? How did I put up with it?
As the first fans rushed Iron Phantom's autograph table, I couldn't stop thinking about how beyond weird the whole thing was. It took me long enough to get used to Connor's fame, but now people were gushing over Rylan. No one ever gushed over Rylan except me. Did he feel as uncomfortable about this as I did?
I watched him give the fan in front of his table a shaky smile.
Definitely uncomfortable.
The meet and greet line shuffled a few steps forward and I moved to keep up, clinging to my spot while simultaneously glancing at my watch. I was about thirty people back in line, and phase one of our plan was due to start any minute.
After an enthusiastic group of young boys chaperoned by equally as enthusiastic parents stepped away with Iron Phantom autographs, Rylan held up his hand. In an instant, two librarians were on top of him, offering coffee and freshly baked muffins and a bowl filled to the brim with brightly wrapped candies.
"Thank you, Judy," I heard Iron Phantom's deep voice rumble to the librarian closest to him. He winked at her, his brown eyes disguised by a pair of electric green contact lenses. Judy never stood a chance. The old woman's freakout started with a gasp and a jolt. It ended with a spilled cup of coffee and a dictionary crushing her big toe.
Iron Phantom pretended not to notice the mess Judy made as he started signing another round of autographs. But when she bent down to mop up the spill, I saw Rylan's hand dip beneath the table toward the ring of keys that hung off each librarian's belt.
After another minute, Judy retreated to the front desk, but her eyes kept drifting back to Iron Phantom. Everyone's eyes seemed to do that, I noticed. Like just maybe something about him had changed from the last time they looked and they didn't want to miss out.
Iron Phantom winked at Judy a second time. Another mug of coffee crashed to the floor.
The line moved forward a few paces, and now only Jillian and Sandy stood between us.
"Oh my God! You're awesome! It's so awesome to meet you!" both girls shouted.
I tried not to count how many times they said the word awesome (nineteen) or dramatically flipped their bangs out of their eyes (eight) or asked Iron Phantom what kind of cologne he wore (five), but I failed big time.
"Bye, IP!"
When they ran out the door, I took one final step forward, bumping my hips on the edge of the table. Rylan glanced up at me, his green eyes not daring to linger too long, then reached for a poster to sign.
"Nice shirt," he said. His voice was an octave lower than usual, almost unrecognizable.
I pulled at the hem of my T-shirt. I'd thought about drawing a mustache on Iron Phantom's face, but that seemed a bit extreme. "Thanks. My boyfriend bought it for me."
"Lucky guy." He folded the poster and slid it across the table to me. I slipped it in my purse, easily pocketing the key he'd hidden inside.
Rylan leaned forward before I could back away from the table. His eyes darted to the guards monitoring the fans as he spoke in a hushed voice.
"Section B-five, row seven. It's a yellow binder, no cover page. Keep your head down. Don't look at the cameras. No one will notice a thing."
I nodded as I stepped aside to make way for the next group of fans. "Nice meeting you, Iron Phantom." Rolling Judy's key between my fingers, I hurried through the stacks to the staircase in the back corner.
The door to the private access wing was placed next to shelves labeled "Morriston Building Permits and Lawn Maintenance Requirements/Restrictions." Riveting. No wonder the entrance to the forbidden floor was back here—temptation to visit such a dull section would be pretty non-existent.
I jiggled the key into the lock, repeatedly glancing over my shoulder to assure myself I was alone. Screams echoed from the meet and greet line, but this part of the library remained silent.
A few flakes of paint fluttered to the ground as the door opened with a creak. Bright red walls and carpeted steps led the way to a soft flickering glow and the quiet buzz of a computer. Rusty lanterns lined the walls.
I ducked inside, shutting the door softly behind me.
The room upstairs didn't quite live up to its fame. It was small, only six shelves lit by two dusty Tiffany lamps on a desk. An old computer hummed on a second desk beneath a diamond-paned window.
I got to work as fast as I could, finding the seventh row on the fifth shelf as Rylan had instructed. I ran my fingers over the spines of the books, brushing dust to the floor, searching for a yellow binder. If this worked, Connor seriously owed me a box of fudgy cookies or something.
I wrenched the heavy binder off the shelf when I found it, dropping it on the table. Rylan had half an hour of his meet and greet left. Tons of time. Hopefully.
The rings of the binder were filled with laminated photographs of every Morriston super that I'd grown up learning about—and many I didn't even remember. A page or two detailing the heroes' abilities and lives followed their pictures. Most of them, it appeared, had moved out of Morriston after they retired. Rylan's childhood crush, Poof, was apparently farming billy goats in South Carolina, not that anyone was certain, considering she could become invisible.
Not only had many Morriston supers moved away, but some from other cities had lived here for a time. A hero named Eclipse, who could harness the sun's energy, had moved to Morriston from Portland for a few years in the early 2000s before disappearing into Canada. I studied her picture, staring at the shock of bright purple hair draped artfully over her eyes, and wondered why I'd never heard of her before now. She would have made a good mentor for Connor if she were still around. Eclipse looked like a total badass who wouldn't put up with any of Connor's shit, which was more than I could say for a lot of the other heroes filling the pages. Many of them looked a little too nice, with their bright grins and eyes winking at the camera—approachable to the point of being a pushover. That was likely why I didn't recognize them. Some were heroes for only a few months. Barely long enough to make a real impact in Morriston.
My spirits started to sink as I flipped to the next page in the binder—but then my fingers stilled.
A photograph of a man stared up at me.
He was mostly in shadow; I could only pick out the curve of his nose as it protruded from beneath his mask. But he was different than Poof, different than Eclipse. Because I knew this man. Everyone in Morriston did. Eagle Eye, with his feathered cape, had been stopping crime for as long as I'd been alive. Longer, even. He was essentially the equivalent of Red Comet—they both excelled at flying fast and making girls and middle-aged women scream. Eagle Eye was one of Morriston's first superheroes. One of their favorite superheroes.
Until he disappeared without a trace.
I snapped the binder shut. Three years. No one in Morriston had seen Eagle Eye in three years, since he retired and vanished into the clouds above the city center, dragging an armful of criminals with him into the sky. Or so the story went. Connor had grown up, like many kids, worshipping Eagle Eye, and then once he learned he could fly... game over. Connor had been obsessed.
Eagle Eye was exactly the person I was looking for, perhaps the only person who knew what Connor had lost when the nanobots entered his body. He was perfect, and I was slightly ashamed that I hadn't thought of him sooner.
But he was gone, nothing more than a name, a bedtime story, a gallant photograph in a book.
Or was he?
I had no proof that Eagle Eye was living in Morriston undetected, but I had no proof that he had moved away either. And until I knew for sure, I still had a chance. Connor still had a chance.
I would find him. One way or another, I would find Eagle Eye or I would find out what happened to him.
I stuffed the binder back on the shelf, bounding down the steps two at a time, praying I could pull this off.
Because I knew if I couldn't, then I could risk hurting my brother even further.
*******
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Also, here's a friendly reminder that hardcover, paperback, and ebook copies of the first book in this series, The Supervillain and Me, are available for purchase through the links on my profile. If you're not financially able to buy the book (totally understandable!) remember that you can always request a copy for free at your local library. Additionally, copies of my BRAND NEW BOOK, The Good for Nothings, are also available for purchase and library requests. The Good for Nothings is full of space heists, snark (basically Guardians of the Galaxy meets Pirates of the Caribbean), grumpy aliens, and baking robots, and I hope you love it as much as I do. Visit the links in my profile to learn more!