Super Powereds: Year 2 (31 page)

58.

“Where is the fucking exit from this place?” Sasha yelled, her voice echoing outward across the marble headstones. She kicked a patch of grass and sent dirt flying into the air. They’d been stuck in the same room for nearly ten minutes and her original demeanor was positively divine compared to the funk she’d degenerated into.

“I’m sure we’ll find it,” Vince assured her. He examined another headstone, reading the inscription, checking to see if it had any give and feeling around for hidden compartments.

“Like you’re even trying.”

“I promise you, I am doing my best to get us free from this place.”

“Oh, wow, you promise? Now if only you weren’t a lying fuckwad who’d spent a year deceiving me that would mean something. Too bad.”

Vince held his tongue yet again and moved on to another grave. Sasha was right: he had lied to her. He’d lied to everyone, and regardless of what his reasons were, he had to accept the consequences. He just wished the consequences would let it be for a few minutes.

Sasha was in no mood to let up, unfortunately. This was her first real time alone with Vince since the revelation, and at long last her stewing anger had an appropriate outlet. “I bet you already found the exit when we got here, you’ve just been keeping it secret.”

“You’ve looked almost everywhere I’ve looked,” Vince pointed out.

“Right, because you’d never do something like conceal the truth so others couldn’t find it.”

“Sasha, I don’t disagree that I lied to you about what I was before we met. That doesn’t mean everything I’ve told you is a lie, and it doesn’t mean that I want to stay in this fake graveyard while you yell at me all night.”

“And why should I believe that? You spent a year lying to keep me near, what makes this any different?”

“Because whoever you are tonight isn’t the girl I fell in love with. You’re angry, you’re loud, and you seem to lack empathy for anything outside of yourself. Now, I’ll take responsibility for what I did and I’ll not stop apologizing if you want to hear it, but that doesn’t mean I want to be around you like this. Trust me: no one wants to get away from here more than me.” Vince stared at her, watching Sasha’s throat bob up and down as her face flexed through a variety of emotions too quick and too complex for Vince to make out.

“Fuck this, I’m getting out of here,” Sasha said at last. She’d regained most of her composure, but some of the fire seemed to have gone out of her voice.

“How?”

“How else, jackass? I’m going to tear this whole place apart until I find the door. Shouldn’t take more than a minute.”

Vince jumped up from his position of perching over a headstone. “You can’t! Remember the signs at the front? They said every room had cameras for surveillance.”

“Who cares?” Sasha knew she was being obstinate just for the sake of it, but she couldn’t help herself.

“If anyone who watches that video goes to Lander or is even associated with the college you could be reported. You’d be gone before Christmas.”

Sasha looked at him; all he wore on his face was concern. Vince had come as close to calling her a bitch as someone like him was capable of, yet he still cared that she was putting herself in danger. For some reason, that made her already knotted stomach twist in a horrifying new direction.

“Worth the risk.” Sasha took a step back and prepared to start her rampage through the graves. Vince’s strong hand closed around her arm, not squeezing but still holding her firm.

“What about Jill’s secret? Or Camille’s? Rich, Chad, Alex, all of them are your friends and you’re putting them at risk. We came here together, we all moved as a group. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out if you’re a Super we might be, too.”

Sasha pulled a little and found Vince’s grip unyielding.

“I don’t want you to do something stupid and endanger yourself, but given our past, I don’t think I have the right to stop you. However, this isn’t just about you. What you do right now can seriously impact the people who trust you. So even if this sucks for a while, just try and bear with it. Please.”

You’re so centered on Vince lying to you and the betrayal you feel over that, have you ever stopped to really ask yourself why he did it?

“You’re such a bastard.” Sasha didn’t turn around; she kept her eyes trained on the dark edges of the room. Everything seemed a little blurrier than before, and Sasha felt something warm on her cheek. “You can’t even let me hate you properly.”

“I’m sorry.” Vince let go of her arm but didn’t make any other motions. She was clearly facing away from him on purpose; he didn’t want to move until she was ready to be seen.

“Of course you’re sorry. You’re always sorry for things you even think you did wrong. I want you to tell me something: why did you lie?”

“Excuses don’t matter, I still did it.”

“I’m the one who got deceived. I get to decide what matters and what doesn’t.” Sasha pretended to run a hand through the side of her hair so she could wipe away the tears with her wrist. It wasn’t a very fluid motion, and she doubted it fooled him, but it was the best she could do.

“I guess that’s fair. We weren’t supposed to tell anyone for our own safety. We didn’t know how people would react. We had a hunch it would put us in danger, at the very least.”

“I’m not asking why you lied to everyone. I’m asking why you lied to me. After everything we shared, after all that time together, did you really think you couldn’t risk your secret with me?”

Vince hesitated, contemplating what to say next. He’d asked himself that question so many times over the past few months, and imagined just as many variations of what he would tell Sasha if given the opportunity currently before him. In the end, he went with the only thing that had ever seemed acceptable to answer with: the truth. “I would have taken the chance and trusted you; I really believe I would have. But it wasn’t my risk to take.”

“You were worried about the others.”

“I was. Letting this out changed everything. It’s made us pariahs and targets. For the rest of our lives we’ll be known as the first batch of freaks, the ones who changed everything. We’ll never get normal lives, not even what passes for normal in the world of Supers. I couldn’t gamble everyone’s future on my faith in anyone, not even the girl I loved. It wouldn’t have been right. Not that what I did was right, either. I had a hard choice and I made it. I’m sorry it hurt you.”

“Me, too,” Sasha said. “Look, let’s just work together and get out of here, okay?”

“Okay,” Vince agreed.

“I’ll check the tombstones on the left, you do the ones on the right. Sooner or later we’ll crack this thing,” Sasha instructed. She headed off toward some graves, doing her best to wipe away the remaining tears as covertly as possible. Vince noticed, of course, but he didn’t say anything; instead he went back to work.

Though they were still trapped in a spooky graveyard room in the middle of a maze, it was curiously peaceful now that all the yelling had dispersed.

59.

The world of Nick’s mind was ridiculously detailed. Mary could hardly believe the intricate design of the tile floor, or the way the occasional table would bear scratches and scuffs, or how every person she encountered was wholly unique. It was evident they weren’t real people, of course; no matter how well-crafted the cigar-puffing men or scantily-clad waitresses were, they still grew hazy at the edges, identifying them as mere chunks of Nick’s mind rather than flesh and blood. Because of that blurring effect, Mary was instantly able to recognize Nick when she found him, which was fortunate because she likely would have missed him otherwise.

Despite the glimpses she’d had into his thoughts, Mary had always imagined the Nick she knew was just a slight variation on the real one. Surely he didn’t wear those silly sunglasses or act as purposefully confounding when he was away from Lander, but she assumed many of his other habits and fashions remained the same. As her eyes fell across the well-dressed young man raking in chips at the poker table, Mary realized just how wrong that assumption had been. His hair was styled in an expert manner, the suit that whispered across his form had clearly been crafted specifically for him, but most distinctive of all was his face. The Nick she knew generally wore a look of affable ignorance, as if he was merely wandering through the world and chuckling at the things that fell across his path. This Nick didn’t conceal his intellect; his eyes roved the world in front of him and devoured every detail they could find. There were no emotions, not even fake ones, decorating his visage. He gave away nothing and took in everything: that was the essence of Nicholas Campbell.

Mary approached slowly, taking the seat of a man who stalked away with a sad look and presumably lighter pockets. The dealer looked at her with a curious glance, and Mary suddenly realized she didn’t have any money to enter the game. The dealer motioned for her to leave and she began to slide off the chair’s vinyl red cushion.

“She stays.” Nick’s voice wasn’t a command, nor was it a request. He spoke like he was calmly discussing geography or math, things that were simply fact. There was no room for denial in his tone; what he said simply was.

“Thank you,” Mary replied, readjusting in her seat.

“No problem.” Nick motioned in the air and a waitress materialized at his side. She carried a clear glass with a brown liquid inside, which she placed next to Nick while collecting the empty ones he’d presumably already drained. Mary noticed the girl had long blonde hair and a familiar facial structure, but declined from mentioning it.

“So your power lets you come into my brain now, huh?”

Mary tilted her head in surprise. “You already know where we are?”

“I didn’t originally. The owl was a good hint.” Nick pointed to the ceiling where Mary could see a snowy white bird sailing between the chandeliers. She recognized it immediately; that species had frequented her forest since before she’d moved to it.

“How did that get here?”

“My guess is that you accidently pulled some of your world into mine when you made the trip. I didn’t start noticing the inconsistencies around here until a few minutes ago, so maybe you crossing over broke whatever part of Rich’s ability keeps us unaware that we’re in an illusion.”

“Seems closer to a dream.”

“Or a carefully controlled coma if we’re splitting hairs. Anyway, the point is, I could sense something that didn’t belong, and that’s when I started getting a feeling none of this was right.”

“You have to admit, this is kind of neat.”

“Of course you’d think that,” Nick scowled. “You’re not the one with a stranger traipsing around in your head.”

“Nothing we can do about it until he frees us.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Nick turned his attention back to the cards just as a pair of hulking male figures appeared behind Mary’s chair. “See, this is place is a perfect replica of my casino, which means the things around here were pulled from my brain rather than constructed by Rich. Knowing that, I can’t just let you wander about. My friends here will show you to the mandatory hospitality suite until we’re both back in the real world.”

“Come on, Nick, aren’t you being silly?”

“I’ve made it comfortable and lavish, so try to take it as a courtesy. I can’t stop you from digging through my thoughts but I’ll be damned if I’ll have you peering through keyholes into the deeper parts of my mind.”

A rough hand settled on Mary’s shoulder. It wasn’t forceful, but it was there to send a clear message.

“If you’d asked nicely I would have promised to just sit here with you. I’m a little insulted by the goon squad; I think it’s time for them to leave.” Mary sent a blast of telekinetic energy toward each thug, enough to drive them into and through the walls. Since they weren’t real she didn’t bother with holding back, which made it all the more surprising when neither of them moved an inch.

“Oh, Mary, did you really think your powers would work in here? This is my mind, after all.”

Mary tried again, and again, and again as the security agent on the right gently pulled her from the table and began to escort her toward a set of stairs leading downward.

“Why not just let me stay with you?” Mary called over her shoulder.

“Nothing personal, but I don’t trust you. Besides, I have things to do,” Nick replied, rising from the table and turning his back on the stack of chips resting on the green felt. “A man rarely gets lucid access to a world his own brain has created. This is an opportunity I don’t intend to squander.”

Mary struggled slightly against her muscular escorts, but found neither of them loosened their grips in the slightest. She wasn’t surprised. Nick had already made the truth evident: this was his world, she was merely visiting it. The most she could do was speculate whether he’d been serious about the luxury of her cell and hope Rich released them in short order. Plus think of all the ways she was going to painfully pay him back for this when they got free.

60.

“Ig and Ook?” The two suited figures continued down the hall, each one resting a hand on Mary’s closest shoulder. The hallway was sparse, nothing but stone on every surface, only interrupted by the occasional door. With each one Mary would tense in anticipation, expecting them to hurl her inside and complete her incarceration. So far they had merely kept walking, the final door of her journey not yet having appeared before them.

“Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum?” No reaction. Mary was amusing herself by trying to guess the names of her guards. She realized it was possible they were new creations cobbled together just for this purpose, beings who had no real names, but then again it wasn’t like she had anything else to do. She’d already tried reading their minds and moving things with her telekinesis. So far Nick’s words had held true; as long as she was in his mind, her powers didn’t exist. Except they did, in that they were what allowed her to be here in the first place. It was a bit confusing and had begun to give Mary a headache, hence why so moved onto the simpler game of name guessing.