I Am Phantom (26 page)

         
“I may hate you but I don’t want you dead,” I answered.

          
The second we got off the catwalk Carlyle spun and whipped out a gun. I
ducked just as he fired.

          
Sykes took the bullet in the stomach. I hadn’t realized he was right
behind us.

          
He looked shocked, going between Carlyle and the bullet.

          
Carlyle fired again. Sykes managed to dodge a few but he was sluggish
now. Almost mortal. Another bullet grazed his thigh and he dropped to one knee.

            
The walls around us shuddered and a monstrous groan rattled the catwalk.

          
“The reactors,” Carlyle said.

          
“You shut them down,” I said. He shook his head.

          
“They’re too powerful to just flick off like a light switch. They were
powering down when he detonated.”

           
“Will they blow?”

           
“Sykes planned to set off a chain reaction and take out a good chunk of
the city, along with all of us. The reaction should only be strong enough now
to take out the lab.”

              
I turned away from him for a half second but felt a sharp stab in my
side. My muscles seized and I collapsed.

           
“But we’re leaving before that happens.” Carlyle bent down and tried to
heft me. “Word to the wise: You should never trust a man willing to do anything
to get what he wants.”

     
      
“I never
did,” Sykes said, and lunged at Carlyle. He knocked him over and I hit the
ground hard. He must have hit me with another Taser but already I was regaining
feeling in my limbs.

            
Sykes jumped at Carlyle again, and they both hit the ground. Sykes
rolled off the edge and managed to catch the lip before he fell.

           
Get up,
I told myself.
Get up now. Now!
Just as Carlyle held
the gun up to Sykes’ head I lashed out. My foot caught his wrist and snapped
it. The gun went flying.

 
           
Far, far behind us, deep in the darkness of the back of the lab,
something exploded. It was distant at first, but grew louder by the second.
Carlyle looked behind him, terrified. He began backing away, towards the lab’s
exit.

           
“I’ll find you again, Phantom.”

             
Then he ran.

             
I looked down at Sykes, still hanging by his fingertips. Flames from the
floor licked at his feet.

          
“You’re welcome, Drake,” Sykes said.

          
His eyes clouded as though in peaceful bliss. His face was half lit by
flames and the other in darkness and then his expression changed to that of
someone who had reached the end of his life and did not find what he was
expecting.

          
He fell.

          
I watched his body hit the ground and the flames close in. I wanted to
leave, to let him burn and blow up with the rest of Project Midnight.

          
But…

          
There was still something left of him, however small. I had seen it in
his face for only a moment. And no matter how much he’d done and how much I
hated him and what he stood for, I couldn’t watch him die. He would face
justice, but not this way.

           
I leapt down after.

          
The heat was almost unbearable. I’m sure without my suit I would have
roasted alive.

          
Sykes’ ripped and scarred chest still moved up and down. I hefted him up
and started dragging him towards the exit. Almost nothing remained of the lab,
and what did was slowly being devoured by flames.

           
It was all being destroyed, Project Midnight. It was what I wanted.

           
Wasn’t it? The man I was carrying was me in the worst way. But still I
pitied him. Call it naivety or ignorance, but I wanted to believe there was
something good in him still, no matter how deep it was buried, no matter how
much he had done, just as I had tried to do with Carlyle. Was I an idiot for
trying to save him, too?

           
We had nearly reached the door.

            
Then the reactors blew.

            
Painful bliss surrounded me. A thousand flaming snakes slithered across
my skin. I couldn’t even scream.

                 
But my eyes still worked, and I watched a fantastic light, growing
brighter, illuminating the last of Project Midnight and decimating it.

                 
Maybe my body was tossed from the wreckage. Maybe I survived. I’m not
sure. I think I was dead.

Chapter
Seventeen

Pride
and Reconciliation

I
was swimming in an inky black fog. No matter how fast I pushed my arms forward
I never seemed to go anywhere. There was nothing below me, or beside me, or
behind me. Nothing anywhere, really.

And
then, faintly, like coming from the other side of a wall, I heard sound, mushy
and muffled like it, too, had to wade through the foggy soup of my mind.

“I’m here with Queensbury
University student, Matt Warner, one of the many heroes from the past couple of
days as a result of the attacks on the school. Following the attacks, suspect
Lucius Sykes went to a supposedly abandoned refinery and blew it up,
endangering hundreds of lives in the immediate area. Fires raged after the
explosion and Matt Warner used his incredible and portable machine to divert
the flames away from nearby neighborhoods. Sykes remains have yet to be found.”

 
Matt, your machine saved so many people. How
did you think to use it to avert this disaster?”

“Um…Because I’m not an
idiot?”

“…I see. And I’ve heard you
are a part of an elite science program who is given special privileges to build
and experiment. How did you know your machine would work well enough to stop
the blazes?”

“Because I built it.”

“That he did!”
A boisterous voice sounding an awful lot
like Mr. Warner said, followed by the sound of someone clapping someone else on
the back.
“My boy’s a genius! Can’t say
it comes from me, but who knew science stuff could be so cool, am I right?”

“That
guy is such a tool,” Cody said.

“Thank you, Matt,”
the newswoman said loudly over Mr.
Warner’s incessant babbling.
“Matt is not
the only hero here. Reports continue to stream in of extraordinary feats of heroism,
like Queensbury’s own Phantom, mostly credited with stopping the escaped
convict Lucius Sykes, who was believed killed in the explosion but who’s
remains have yet to be found. Though initially Phantom’s actions were condemned
and even feared, he has since grown into something of a homegrown hero.
Phantom’s current whereabouts are unknown, but some fear he may be dead.”

The
soft hospital sheets tingled as though flames still seared my skin. Which meant—

I
opened my eyes.

—I
wasn’t dead just yet.

It
was morning, I think. I was in a sunlit hospital room. There was hardly any
antiseptic stench, or maybe I was used to it. Shadows of people and voices
passed in the hallway outside, shuffling past one another. But this was a calm
bustle, nothing like the frantic rush of bodies there had been when Cody was
here and the dead and injured had continued to pile up.

I
flicked my eyes left and saw an explosion of color beside me. Three balloons
with puppies on them, more cards than I thought I had friends and candy
everywhere, overflowing the tiny table.

To
the right, the news continued to play on a TV hanging from the ceiling. Cody,
still dressed in a hospital gown, and Melanie, sat next to each other. Cody’s
remaining hand was firmly clasped with hers and both were looking at the
screen, which was now showing scenes of the destroyed oil refinery.

When
they zoomed in, showing the charred remains of the lab and the bodies, Cody
grimaced and Melanie put a hand silently to her mouth.

“It
wasn’t that bad,” I lied.

Both
jumped as though they had been electrocuted.

“Drake!”
Melanie leapt up and pushed Cody over to me. I hadn’t noticed he was sitting in
a wheelchair. The horrible moment in his hospital room came rushing back when I
saw the wrapped stumps of what remained of his right limbs.

“You—”Cody
said, holding back a grin. “—you are absolutely crazy, but you did it.”

“You’re
really, really, really lucky, Drake,” Melanie said.

“So
the lab?”

“Gone,”
Cody said. “Matt’s machine is still holding the rest of the fires at bay but I
think the worst is over.”

I
almost relaxed when another though hit me. “Sykes!” At any moment I expected
him to walk in the door or pop out of the closet. “Is he—”

“He’s
gone,” Cody said. “They never found his body but there’s no way he could have survived.
You barely did and you had the suit on.”

“And
Liz? She’s not—”

“Safe,”
Cody said. “She’s sleeping right now. She didn’t leave your side since you
arrived. Melanie made her leave. She looked like she was about to collapse from
exhaustion.”

I
couldn’t help grinning wryly. That sounded like stubborn Liz all right.

Melanie
was looking at me with a mixture of disbelief and admiration.

“What?”
I said.

“I
still can’t believe what you did,” She said. “From what I heard Sykes would
have killed a lot more people if you hadn’t been there.”

“Reality
check: I could barely keep up with him.” I had a brief flashback of the longing
in Sykes’ eyes, the pain that looked as though it could only be relieved by
death. “He practically killed himself.”

Cody
shook his head. “Wow.”

“And
I couldn’t have done it without any of you guys. I owe everything to you three.”
I glanced back at the TV. “Even Matt’s ego.”

“We’ll
call it his brain,” Cody said. Then added thoughtfully, “But mostly his ego.”

“At
least he and his dad appear to be on better terms,” Melanie said. The TV was
now replaying videos of me, as Phantom, driving across the city and scaling
buildings. They were videos I hadn’t even known had been taken.

The
sounds from the hall grew louder as the door opened and a nurse poked her head
in. “Mr. Richards? It’s time for you to be back in bed for your afternoon
dosage. Mr. Sinclair, glad to see you’re awake. I’ll alert the doctor.”

“Duty
calls,” Cody said. There was no disguising the note of bitterness in his voice.
He pecked Melanie on the cheek. As Melanie rolled him to the nurse I clasped
his wheelchair as it passed. I tried to say I’m sorry, but I knew he didn’t
want to hear that. We simply looked at each other, both remnants of Sykes’
violent history. Finally we bumped fists and then the nurse wheeled him out.

“How’s
he doing?” I asked as soon as Melanie rejoined me.

“He’s
great. He’s going to heal just fine—”
  

“That’s
not what I mean. How is he really?” Her face faltered just a bit. I could tell
she wanted to lie, for my sake, but truth won out.

“He’s
coping really well for what happened.” A small smile tugged her lips. “He’s
incredible like that. Always looking on the bright side. But…they said with
people like this—with such incredible loss, and the shock—they put him
on suicide watch—just in case, you know?”

I
nodded. What else could I say?

“I
don’t think I could ever—after what happened I just had to make it right.
Maybe I kind of did that with Sykes. Maybe it served no purpose.”

“Drake,
there are thousands of people in this city who owe you their lives. If you
helped at least one person then I’m sure that’s enough. I know Cody would
agree.”

We
sat silently, agreeing, I think, until the doctor came in.

“Well,
well, well, Mr. Sinclair, our miracle case.” He swept up a clipboard tacked to
the side of my bed and flipped a few pages back and forth.

“I
have to say, I don’t think we’ve ever had anybody survive an inferno and pull
through like you did. You’re not even burned!”

“An
inferno?” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Melanie make the most covert of
nods.

He
looked quizzically at me. “Of course. Your report says you were on a late night
jog around that refinery that blew up. I’m amazed you’re still in one piece, to
be honest.”

That
had to be the flimsiest cover story ever, but I was going to stick to it.

“So,
I’m all good?” I ventured. The doctor continued to flip through the pages,
muttering things like ‘incredible’ and ‘amazing’. Things I already knew about
myself, thanks.

“Is
everything okay?” I asked again.
 

He
finally looked up.

“What?
Yes! More than okay, actually. You’ll be cleared to leave here in a couple of
days, I expect.” He returned to the notes. “Marvelous. Your red blood cell
count is extremely high, and your platelets, and your lung capacity, this is
your physical, right?”

“I
think so.”

“Not
an Olympic athletes’? You are in incredible shape, Mr. Sinclair.” He gave me a
light pat on the arm. “Keep up the good work.”

“That
was weird,” I muttered as soon as the door closed again. But the cover story
made me think of something else. “Melanie, how did I get here without anybody
knowing I was Phantom?”

“You
can thank me for that.”

I
hadn’t heard Ryans come in. I moved, more out of reflex than anything, and my
sore muscles seized up and I collapsed back into the bed. “Ouch.”

“At
ease, Sinclair,” Ryans said. I saw one side of his mouth twitch up. That was
probably his equivalent of a smile. “They told me you’ll be sore for a little
while longer.” He finally stopped giving me an unnerving stare, glanced at
Melanie and flicked his thumb towards the door.

“You.
Out.”

Melanie
hesitated for a second before she got up and left. Ryans pushed the door shut.
He walked to my bedside, took a pack of candy, opened it, munched on it while
staring at the TV above my head.

I
risked a look and saw still shots of the torched lab followed by more clips of
Phantom. Seriously? More videos of me? Did I have a stalker?

“Amazing
what people can survive,” he said, crumpling up the wrapper. “A man manages to
survive a catastrophic explosion with hardly a scratch on him. And yet the
truth…that may be even more incredible.”

“Well
that’s what happened. I was jogging near that refinery when it blew up. I don’t
remember anything after that. Sorry.”

“You
didn’t even know that’s what you were here for until a minute ago.” He paused
again. “So…Phantom.”

Me
and my fat, stupid, mouth. Of course only now, after the fact, did I see the
downside of revealing my vigilante identity to the chief of police.

“Who’s
that?” I managed weakly.

Ryans
did not look the least bit amused. “I carried your body from the remains of
that lab. Let’s not play games.”

I
heaved a defeated sigh. “Look, I know you want to arrest me, so just get it
over with. It wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve done to me.”

“What
was the worst?”

I
cocked an eyebrow. “You
shot
me,
Ryans. After I saved you.”

“Yes.
Yes, I did. I was protecting my family.”

“From
me!
 
A—”

“A
know-nothing vigilante without any real training, wandering around with tech he
shouldn’t have and with God knows what kind of mission.” Ryans went around the
bed and turned off the TV but remained standing near the window, like he did
when I was in his office, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

“August
starts. A new school year, more trouble for me. The crime rate shows no sign of
stopping and my force is spread thin enough already. And then Sykes escapes and
on top of that I have a black-hooded hoodlum running around. He doesn’t have a
clue—”

“Yes
I did—”

“What
he was doing.” Ryans paused. “And yet…incredibly…he was doing some good.”

I
froze on the verge of smarting off again. Had I heard right? Had Ryans just
said something nice about me?

“We
started to gain a little ground and the tide turned. My city became safer. But
there was still one enemy he knew nothing about. Project Midnight was far more
dangerous than any drug dealer or back streets crook. He got lucky

“But
despite his good deeds that wasn’t good enough for me. Sykes’ net of influence
was wide and who knew how long it was until he got Phantom on his payroll. Phantom
had to be stopped. I had no idea what sick agenda he might have had.” Pain
suddenly covered his face. A mixture of regret and anguish. He turned away from
me again.

“Too
late did I see he could have helped me more, then maybe those kids—” he
stopped. His stature hardened to that of stone pillar. The muscles in his face
shook just the slightest bit but I don’t think he noticed. When he started
talking again his tone was heavier. Each word seemed forced from him.

“And
then he saved me, but even then I still didn’t trust him. What I had once done
never left me. I didn’t know…” He sighed heavily. “I’m not trying to justify
what I did, especially not to you. I was young, I was impressionable, but I’m
sorry now, so very sorry.”

At
this he finally looked at me. “And then I pulled up to the lab, and saw your
limp body and the people around who babbled that you had saved them from Sykes
and I at last knew you were not my enemy. You were not the same as that
monster.”