Hero Reborn (Keepers of Justice, Book 3) (25 page)

When you’re ready
, Cindy says to me. I try to clear my head, thinking about nothing but the president, then I nod to Cindy. She’s going to control us all to fall asleep at once. I feel myself drift off.

We fall to the
floor, in the president’s house. Not the White House, but maybe his house before he became president. He and his wife are standing before a TV screen, playing one of those dance games. Their backs face us.

Samson motions everyone except
for me to hide. They climb into closets and behind furniture. I’m left standing behind the president and his wife. These are my biological parents. When I was little and used to think about meeting them, I thought I’d feel some sort of connection. I do feel something, but it’s small. I think that no matter what, I’ll never see them as my parents.

As
if he feels me staring, the president turns around. So does the First Lady. I don’t look like them. I mean, I guess I have the same green-colored eyes as her…and my nose kind of looks like the president’s.

Taking one look at the lanky guy standing before them, his
mouth drops. “Henry?”

“H
-huh? I thought my name was Adam.” The look on his face makes my arms stretch and slide to the floor. I quickly retract them.

He gasps. “Adam?” The First Lady’s
hands fly to her mouth.

I crack my knuckles.
I didn’t think it’d be this hard. “Actually, it’s Andrew.” I wave lamely. “I guess I’m your son.” I wave to her, too. “Hi, Mrs. Ashford.”

She shakes her head like she
doesn’t believe what she sees. They look at one another, then at me. I take in a deep breath. “The first thing you need to understand is that this isn’t a dream. Well, it kinda is. I’ve entered it. I’m sorry, but I have something very important to tell you. You’re going to remember this when you wake up and I need you to trust me. Can you, Mr. President?”

“You look…you’re nearly identical to my brother Henry who passed away before you were born. Who told you you’re my son?” he asks.

“I figured it out on my own. I’ve been in some of your dreams.”

“Excuse me?”

“Please, we can’t talk about this now. You have to hear me out. People are dying and no one’s got a clue what to do.”

The president’s eyes narrow. “Because of what you people have done.”

“No.” I step closer to him. “Mr. President, I know you and everyone thinks the Keepers of Justice are behind the virus, but we’re not. You need to trust me. The Keepers wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

I pull a vial out of the back pocket of my jeans. It’s not real. Samson gave it to me before we entered this dream. It won’t work on the president
in the dream, but it might be enough proof to convince him to listen to me. “This is an antidote. The Keepers have been working on it for days. It can cure the virus and save the humans.”

H
e eyes it.

“The government has known and trusted the Keepers for twenty years. Do you honestly think they would do something like this? They were set up by the ShadowBlades. Remember them? The most powerful villains in the world? Everyone thinks they’re dead. But they’re not and they
want to kill off all the humans.”

He looks at his wife,
whose forehead is wrinkled.

“Please,” I say. “You’ve got to believe me. For years I’ve resented you because I never understood why you gave me away, but I understand it now. You wanted to spare me a life of scrutiny. Thanks for that, by the way. I’ve had a great life in the League.”

He hesitates before saying, “Thank you. I’m glad to hear that. I’ve been watching over you for years. The Keepers of Justice are good people. I was shocked to discover they were behind the virus.”

“Because it’s not them.”

His eyes dip to the vial. “If that’s a cure, why haven’t you administered it to the infected humans?”

“Because the leader of the ShadowBlades is preventing us from doing so,” Samson says, stepping out from behind a couch. One by one, the others leave their hiding places. They’re all in costume—not Keeper ones. I’m not, because the president needs to see my face.

He gapes at all nine of them. “What’s—what’s going on here?” He grabs his wife’s hand and they back up against the wall. Samson and Cindy start to explain everything—what Vlayne’s done and how we plan to fix it. The president and First Lady seem completely lost, but as they look at me, I can tell they’re starting to believe him. Kale was right. Having me here changes everything.

“You’re saying this…this villain is controlling my mind?” he asks.

“Yes,” Cindy answers. “You as well as the human population.”

He stares at the floor
, trembling a bit.

“We’ve come up with a solution,” Samson
says. “However, it’s unorthodox, but we believe it’s the only way to save the humans.”

He slowly brings his gaze to Samson. “What’s the solution?”

“We…” Cindy gestures to the telepaths. “Will use our telepathy to remove Vlayne’s hold and replace it with our own. We don’t normally do this, but we need to keep Vlayne’s control off you.”

They explain
that he’s the central brain and the rest of the normies follow him. He mutters something under his breath.

“By removing Vlayne’s hold,” Samson says, “The people
will no longer be under her control and are free to accept the antidote. Once they are cured, they will be immune to any virus the ShadowBlades may release in the future.”

“We need your permission to place a hold on your mind,” Cindy says. “We won’t control you. We only need to protect you from Vlayne.”

The president tilts his head to the side, contemplating. “I understand.” He takes his wife’s hand again. “I’ll do anything for my people. What about other countries?”

“They are controlled to follow you as well,” Samson says.

The president thinks for a second. “You have my permission to do whatever it takes to save my fellow Americans and the rest of the world.”

Samson heads to President
Ashford and holds out his hand. The pres wavers before shaking it. “Thank you,” he says.

“Protecting the humans is the Keepers of Justice’s number one concern.”

The president lifts his hand toward me and slowly pats the top of my head. “Thank you for taking care of my son.”

His wife hugs me.
It sucks she’s not experiencing this, since it’s not her dream.

“It was our pleasure,” Samson says. “He’s growing up to be a brave, mature young man.”

The pres smiles. “You don’t know how happy I am to see and talk to you, Adam.”

“It’s Andrew,” I tell him. “Sorry. I mean, my parents…I mean they named me Andrew.” Geez, this is hard.

“Yes, Andrew.” He pulls me into an awkward hug. “Thank you for all of this.”

Cindy explains what she and the rest of the telepaths are going to do. Once they’re sure Vlayne’s block is gone and theirs is strong, we’re going to leave
the dream and our leaders are going to meet up with the president in the real world and hand him the antidote.

She
instructs me to stand in the center of the room, and the telepaths form a circle around me, holding hands. We shut our eyes. Like before, I feel all their energies, but this time they’re stronger as they enter me. I feel like I’m floating in the air.

This goes on for what feels like hours
when it’s probably only a few minutes. The energy leaves me. “Did it work?” I ask.

A grin forms on her face.

Kale’s face shines with excitement. “Vlayne’s gone?”

“Vlayne’s gone.”

Kale raises his fists in the air. He slaps my and X’s hands. “We’re so badass!”

“Language, Kale,” Samson says. He cocks his head toward the president. “We’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you.” He messes my hair like he’s a fun uncle instead of a dad. His wife steps forward and gives me another hug.

The place gets blurry.
We shoot out of the dream.

My first “meeting” with my biological parents
(well, father, since the real Mrs. Ashford wasn’t there) went okay. Weird, yeah, but okay. I’m not sure if I want to meet them and their kids—my siblings—in real life yet. I don’t think I’m ready. But I’m pretty sure I’m going to want to one day.

We’re in the living room, gathering vials of antidotes into sacks. Speed and the other scientists synthesized billions. I don’t know how the sacks work, but whatever you place inside seems to disappear, even though it’s still in there. When you’re ready to use one, you pull it out. Like Marry Poppins’ bag.

A few hours ago, Samson and Cindy met with the president and he accepted the cure. When they got back, they told us that less than a second after he took it, he was
healthier than he’s been in years.

When all the vials are packed, Samson calls for attention. “It’s important to make sure each and every human receives the cure, but it’s as equally important that the ShadowBlades do not get their hands on it. If they do, Vlayne will heal her boyfriend and will release the fatal virus. That would leave many humans to die, because we won’t be able to get to them all in time.”

“So what do we do?” Kale asks.

“
You
aren’t doing anything. I, your mother, Regina, Shifter, Stone, and some of our agents in other countries, will race against the clock to present the humans with the antidote. As we do this, we’ll be vigilant and look out for the ShadowBlades who will most definitely be roaming the streets.”

X crosses his arms over his chest. “I want to be part of this.”

“Me, too,” Kale says.

I raise my
hand in agreement. “You need all the help you can get.”

“I can run very fast,” Speed adds. “And give the humans the cure faster than anyone else. And it’ll be harder for the Blades to catch me.”

“And I can shift into my cat form,” Furball says. “No one would detect me.”

“Thank you,” Cindy says. “Your bravery is commendable. But it’s not necessary. We have many contacts around the world who will help us distribute the antidotes.”

“Mom—”

“No. I won’t have you kids risking your lives.”

“We can do this,” Kale says. The rest of us talk at once, and the room buzzes with our voices.

Samson runs his hands down his face. He then lifts
them to quiet us down. “We won’t allow it.”

“We might not be Elites,” I say. “But we’re Keepers of Justice, and Keepers protect the
normies. You need us. Even if we only manage to heal twenty, it’s still something.”

“Even with all your contacts,” Furball says, “there are billions of people out there. You guys won’t be able to get to everyone in time.”

Kale’s parents talk telepathically. It looks like they’re arguing.

X picks up a sack, slings it over his shoulder, and heads for the door. “I don’t care if I’m risking my life. I’m doing this.”

“Ray, wait,” Samson says.

We join him at the door. We spread our legs out and fold our arms over
our chests.

“Please, Dad, Mom.”

“We’re wasting time,” X mumbles.

Samson
sighs. “All right, we’ll allow you to go.” He instructs us to get into costumes. “Remember,” Samson says before we leave. “Try your hardest not to allow a ShadowBlade to steal the cure from you. Don’t trust anyone.” He explains exactly how we can tell if someone really has the virus, or is just pretending. Their faces would be red and puffy. Eyes red, too, with tiny dots inside. Their tongues should be covered in blisters. And of course they would be coughing up and puking blood. He says it’s hard for anyone to fake those symptoms. Cindy and Kale put telepathic blocks on us so no one could play mind tricks.

Samson
also tells us that if we’re being attacked, we should save ourselves. But we don’t care about us, only the humans.

Samson and Cindy’s faces are pale with worry. I know they’re concerned for our safety. But we’re superheroes. And
this is what superheroes do.

***

We’ve been on the streets for about twenty minutes. Kale wanted to go from house to house handing out the vials, but X said it’d be easier to start off with a group, like a hospital. We went to one nearby. Now we’re off to another a few blocks away.

Furball,
in her panther form, leaps ahead to scout the area. As we round a corner, something jumps on top of X and he crashes to the ground.

It’s a big guy, dressed in a red, orang
e, and yellow costume. A Blade.

The sack!
Kale yells. Oh, no. He snatched it from X. I’m about to run after him, when something slams into me and hurls me a few feet back. It’s another Blade, lifting his hands to shoot something at me. Shards of glass! I stretch and bend myself in different directions to avoid them. He’s firing them like he’s a pitching machine in a batting cage. His arms aren’t tiring out.