Meta (9 page)

  
My powers didn't fail me.

  
I failed me.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

When a patrol car finally brings me home, Derrick is already there waiting. His red puffy eyes tell me that he's been crying, although I'm sure he'd never admit it. Without saying a word, he grabs me and pulls me into a hug. Derrick and I have lived alone with only each other for almost a decade now, and I think this is the first time we've actually hugged since Mom and Dad's funeral. It feels nice.

  
"What happened?" Derrick asks, sniffling.

  
"To be honest, it was all such a blur, I don't even know. A guy tried to rob the store and he shot my manager. Then some meta came in and killed him. Before anyone even knew what was going on, it seemed to be over," I tell him, somewhat honestly.

  
"What is happening Connor? This is the second time this week you've almost been killed and some meta has saved you. That can't be a coincidence," Derrick asks.

  
"I don't know what to tell you, Derrick. I'm as confused about all of this as you are," I say.

  
"I guess it doesn't matter. Right now, I'm just glad that you're safe. I picked up some dinner on the way home since I figured you probably haven't eaten. It's on the kitchen table if you're hungry," Derrick tells me.

  
"Oh. You're a lifesaver. I'm starving. Thanks."

  
It was true. I skipped breakfast this morning obviously since I was late and hadn't had a chance to eat anything before the... robbery. The police offered me food during my questioning, but I was too nauseous to eat then. The nausea had finally passed now though and I was absolutely starving.

  
Derrick retreats to his home office and laptop. The level of metahuman activity within the last few days is absolutely off the chart, and I'm sure the message boards were barely able to keep up with the speculation and cameraphone pictures of everything that has been happening lately. That is fine by me. I could use some time alone.

  
I sit down at the kitchen table and pull over the bag of fast food cheeseburgers Derrick has gotten me. They are cold but I'm too grateful to complain. Unwrapping the first burger, my mouth is already salivating. I bite into it and feel something odd. Like a leaf of lettuce that is just a little too tough. I spit it out into the wrapper.

  
Of course.

  
It's a note. Folded up. I unfold it. All it reads is, "First rooftop. 01:00." There's no signature but it is pretty obvious that there were only a few people "clever" enough to sneak a note into a cheeseburger, and only one that I know personally.

CHAPTER TWELVE

"You know, a text message would have been just as easy," I shout into the darkness on the rooftop where I first encountered Midnight, knowing that he is already there, even if I can't see him.

  
"Text messages can be intercepted," a voice in the darkness says.

  
"Yeah, well notes stuck inside cheeseburgers can be choked on," I say back to the darkness.

  
"You lived," says Midnight, who is now inexplicably standing six inches behind me.

  
"Yeah, but it kinda ruins the rest of the burger, knowing that you've been pawing around in it leaving notes. Is that even sanitary?"

  
"We have more important things to discuss."

  
I'm starting to realize Midnight doesn't have much in the way of a sense of humor.

  
"The incident today wasn't your fault," he says.

  
"Incident? A man died. No, I'm sorry. Two men died. It wasn't just an 'incident'."

  
"You didn't let me finish," Midnight growls. "The incident today wasn't your fault, but the actions and decisions made, prevented you from being in a position to stop it."

  
"A position to stop it? I tried! I tried to get my metabands and I couldn't, okay? And that is what got Gary shot. I have to live with that now. Knowing that not only did I
not
prevent a man's death, I caused it with my stupid decisions. Are you happy now? You were right. I was wrong. I don't know what I'm doing! Okay? Happy?" I yell.

  
I start choking up as the words are leaving my mouth. It's hard to process all of this, and it's not until I've actually said it out loud, that it begins to hit me again. I killed Gary. I might not have pulled the trigger, but my own stupid attempt at being a hero is what set off the robber, and I will never forget that.

  
"Calm down," Midnight says as he puts a gloved hand on my shoulder. This is the first sign of any emotion, other than anger, I've seen from him.

  
"You're new at this. You did the best you could. A lot of other people would have ran out that back door, but you didn't. The robber could have just as easily shot you, and you knew that but made an attempt to get your metabands and help anyway. That's bravery. The type of bravery metabands can't give you," Midnight reassures me.
 

  
This actually does help. It doesn't fix anything, but it helps. "I just don't know what to do. I don't ever want to be responsible for anything like that ever again. This feels horrible," I tell Midnight.

  
"Then you won't. That's a decision you can make."

  
"But how?"

  
"There are two things. The first is: you cannot work at Electrotown."

  
"Don't worry. I can't imagine they'll be opening back up anytime soon after all of this."

  
"No. I mean you cannot work at Electrotown or any place like Electrotown. There are CCTV cameras monitoring that entire store. If I'd known you were taking a job there I would have never allowed it."

  
"I'm not stupid. I teleported into the restroom. Not even Electrotown has cameras in the restroom."

  
"And what happens when they go back to look at that security footage and notice that there's a person who comes out of the restroom that they never saw go in?"

  
Silence. I hadn't thought of that. I hadn't thought I'd ever need to use my powers at Electrotown, though. Or at the very least, I never thought there would be a reason for them to look back at the security cameras.

  
"I didn't know what happened was going to happen," I say.

  
"Of course you didn't, and you never will. That's why you cannot ever, ever take these things for granted."

  
"Dammit. They're going to be pouring over those tapes. They're going to notice that. They already asked me way more questions than they would have because of what happened in the woods the other night. It's already so suspicious that I've been in both these places. Dammit! I'm so stupid!" I say as I begin panicking.

  
"Relax. It's taken care of," Midnight tells me.

  
"What do you mean?"

  
"I mean it's taken care of. The camera covering the employee entrance in the back was already out of order and I damaged the tape from the camera covering the entrance to the restroom. If anyone asks, you came in through the back that day. There's no way to prove otherwise."

  
This is the first bit of good news I've heard in a while. At least since Derrick told me he got me cheeseburgers, even though they had notes stuffed inside them.

  
"Thank you," I tell Midnight, sincerely.

  
"And there are these," he says as he tosses me my metabands.

  
"How did you-" I manage to get out before Midnight interrupts me.

  
"If it was obvious to me where you would have hid these, it might have been obvious to someone else. You can't let these fall into someone else's hands. I thought I'd made that clear to you the other night but I suppose not," he says.

  
"Why does it matter? They're hardcoded to my DNA now anyway you said, no one else can use them," I fire back.

  
"And how were you planning on using them if they aren't in your possession?" he asks.

  
He had me there. I had felt fairly secure in the knowledge, that even if someone ever did find my metabands, there was nothing they'd be able to do with them. Hell, for all they'd know, they were just toy replicas or something. They don't do anything for anyone other than their owners, so there would be no way to tell. But if someone found these and kept them from me, that would put a pretty quick end to my career as a metahuman.

  
"You have to learn how to put them into sleep mode," Midnight tells me in a way that suggests the idea of putting these physical objects into a 'sleep mode' is the most obvious thing in the world. I respond accordingly with a blank stare.

  
"You know what sleep mode is right?" he asks. He seems like he is beginning to lose his patience again.

  
"Yeah, for like a computer. Not for these things," I tell him.

  
"Same idea. These things can go into a mode where they're somewhat inactive but still physically present."

  
"Meaning?"

  
"Meaning, for all intents and purposes, they're on you all the time but they're invisible," he explains.

  
"Whoa. Wait, really?" I ask.

  
"Well, not really. No one actually knows exactly what happens to them. The closest guess is that they temporarily shift slightly out of our reality, or dimension. They're still there, they're still present, but they're not. Do you follow?" he asks. He seems to have confused even himself.

  
"Not at all, but I'm willing to give anything a try. How do I do it?" I ask.

  
"Put them on."

  
I put the metabands around my wrists again. I'd almost forgotten the slight, static electric feel I get when they're on, even de-activated, as they automatically adjust themselves to wrap tightly around my wrists. It's a good feeling.

  
"Now just concentrate on them. Imagine that they're not there. Imagine you can see right through them to your bare arms," Midnight tells me.

  
I concentrate hard. Very hard.

  
"You're concentrating too hard. You need to relax. If you force it too hard, it won't happen," Midnight informs me.

  
"Oh, like a magic eye poster!" I yell excitedly and with that, the metabands around my wrists slowly fade away.

  
"I did it! That was awesome!" I shout.

  
"Good job. Now what will be more impressive, and more important, is bringing them back," Midnight tells me, bringing me back down to Earth a little bit.

  
"Oh. Right. Yeah. That makes sense. Okay. Let me try," I say.

  
Bringing them back feels harder than making them disappear. It's easier to imagine that something isn't there than to imagine that it is. The slight panic in the back of my mind at the idea that I might never be able to bring these things back into existence isn't helping the whole concentration thing much either.

  
I'm halfway through saying the words, "I can't," when the bands appear on my wrist. Like a jump cut in a film, they are just instantly there. They do not slowly materialize around my wrists, or fade in. One second there are no metabands, and the next instant, there they are, fully formed.

  
"Very good," Midnight says.

  
"How did you know I'd be able to do that?" I ask.

  
"It doesn't matter."

  
Of course it matters, but it only matters to me, so Midnight doesn't care. He doesn't care that I know almost nothing about him other than the myths passed down over the years. He doesn't care that I'm increasingly curious about how it is that he knows so much about metahumans and metabands, when he's never had them himself. Actually, he probably does care that I care about that and wishes I wouldn't. It's something he'd consider a distraction.

  
"Now that that problem is taken care of," Midnight begins, "we need to fix the problem of you foolishly deciding to get a job where the entire place is covered wall to wall with security cameras."

  
"I know. I get it. I wasn't counting on becoming a metahuman when I got my eight dollar an hour job stocking shelves with headphones okay?" I say, losing my temper slightly.

  
Midnight just stares at me and says nothing.

  
"Okay. So what are we going to do then?" I ask to break the silence.

  
"That's better," he replies.

  
"I need a job. Derrick's not exactly bringing in a fortune right now and once I turn eighteen, the government money stops. Not having a summer job just isn't an option, metahuman or not."

  
"I agree. In addition, we need you to get into better shape if you're going to be of any use to anyone."

  
"Better shape? What are you talking about? First off, I'm in fine shape."

  
"You got winded climbing the fire escape to the roof tonight."

  
"Oh, you saw that?"

  
Midnight glares at me.

  
"What does it matter? I've got metabands. I could become a three hundred pound couch potato and still run circles around anyone in the world. You even said yourself that my metabands were different somehow. Stronger than the others," I say.

  
"The metabands only multiply what you naturally are capable of," Midnight tells me.

  
"So I'm somewhat naturally capable of flying, and these just enhance that?" I ask sarcastically.