Marrow (32 page)

“Oh…” I nodded slowly. “Okay…”

If you agree to this, I will be inside your mind until you die,
said Gaia.
This will be non-negotiable. As this is a lifetime commitment, I understand if you need more time to think it over—

“I’ll do it,” I said. As Gaia’s words finally sank in, I found myself trembling again. Flex. Sapphire. Whisp.

My dad.

I could save all of them.

Gaia interlocked its gangly fingers.
You are sure of this?

I nodded, biting my lip. “Yes, but…I do have a question.”

What is that?

“What happened to all of the powers that you and Fantom absorbed?”

Those powers were released the moment my vessel was fractured and my mind was separated from Fantom’s,
said Gaia.
Those powers will have undoubtedly returned to the humans they once belonged to. Such powers have a strange sense of familiarity like that. They always drift back to what they consider home.

That was good to know. I couldn’t have handled having all those stolen powers inside of me. But still…that wasn’t enough.

“Do I have to accept your power?” I asked.

Gaia cocked its perfectly round head.
I’m afraid I don’t understand your question.

“Like…I know I need your power to save my friends and all,” I said. “But when I save them…can you take the power away from me? I don’t want it.”

The power is a part of me,
said Gaia.
I can hide it in a dormant part of your brain where it will be extremely difficult to reach, but it will still be a part of you. If you dig hard enough, there will be nothing I can do to keep you from accessing it.

“Okay…” I said, nodding solemnly. “Do that. As soon as I save my friends, hide your power from me.”

As you wish.
Are you ready then?

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

Gaia extended an elongated arm, pressing a thin finger against an invisible wall. A pool of swirling blackness opened, accompanied by an intense howling wind. An array of neon colors seared into the nothingness as the vortex expanded. In mere seconds, the shadowy neon maelstrom was as tall as Gaia.

“No…” said Fantom, scraping the invisible floor with his emaciated fingers. “Don’t…leave…me…”

I struggled to pull my gaze from Fantom. “What will happen to him?”

Unfortunately, due to Fantom’s dependency on me, I have become the most integral part of his brain. Once my subconscious detaches from his, he will die.

I finally ripped my eyes away. Staring into the swirling abyss, I nodded. “Let’s go.”

Gaia took my hand, its seemingly jointless fingers wrapping around mine. Together we stepped into the darkness.

Marrow…

I was flying—soaring through a vast nothingness. Slicing through the shadows…

“Marrow…”

The wind was attacking me from all sides—a fierce, biting wind. Cold…merciless…

“Marrow!”

The darkness vanished as I opened my eyelids. Flex was hunched over me, his dreadlocks whipping aimlessly around his face. His eyes were huge, swallowed in panic.

“Flex?”

We were back in the broken Cronus Chamber which was hardly a safe place with the gaping hole I had kicked in the glass. The shattered section was a raging vacuum, violently trying to suck us out into the open atmosphere. I realized that the only thing holding me down was Flex, clutching my collar while he continued to grip the rim of the Cronus cannon.

But something was different. Even though the Tartarus was hurtling downward, I felt remarkably aware of every detail around me. Every jagged edge of the shattered hole. Every loose object floating in our descent. Everything was sharper. Crisper. Clearer. I felt a throb of life from every human and creature aboard the Tartarus.

I had never felt so alive in my entire life.

“You’re alive!”
said Flex. “How the heck are you alive?”

“Long story,” I said. “There’s no time to explain.”

Flex lifted an eyebrow. “Huh? Explain what?”

I opened my mouth but hesitated.

Flex hadn’t said that at all. His mouth hadn’t moved. He
thought
it. I was reading his mind.

But seriously, though. There was no time to explain. My gaze darted past Flex to the bleeding evening sky rushing past us. Who knew how close we were to hitting the ground?

I pulled myself free of Flex’s grip, staggering upright. The wind immediately threatened to rip me off my feet, but I could already feel the new power emanating from my being. With just a simple thought, I pinned my feet to the ground.

“Are you insane?” asked Flex. “What are you doing?”

At a time like this, I figured that the best explanations were the unspoken ones. Concentrating on the invisible force holding my feet down, I redirected it to my soles. Taking a deep breath, I steadily lifted myself off the ground.

Flex’s jaw dropped.

“I’m gonna save our butts,” I said.

With that, I let myself get sucked out of the Cronus Chamber, telekinetically pushing myself from the broken glass edges.

If I thought the wind was intense before, nothing could have prepared me for this. The air was sucked right out of my lungs. The wind ripped and clawed at my skin. I toppled and flailed through the air like a broken kite.

Don’t focus on your surroundings,
a familiar chorus of voices entered my head.
Focus on within.

“Gaia?” I said. “Is that you?”

Of course it’s me,
said Gaia.
How many other extraterrestrial life forms do you have living inside your head?

“I thought you weren’t going to help me.”

Yes, well, I would be disappointed to see you die again before I even began my research.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t like that either.”

I closed my eyes and struggled to tune out the thrashing wind. Inhaling through my nose, I scraped within myself for power.

Somehow, I sensed a golden flicker inside of me. A spark. Then it exploded.

The wind halted.

No. Not the wind. I opened my eyes.

I 
had halted. I was floating perfectly still in midair. My gaze lowered to the Tartarus and the Gaia Comet, spiraling as it plummeted. From a distance, it looked like a funky rock baked inside a donut made out of glass bubbles. Which doesn’t really make any sense, but whatever, that’s what it looked like.

The jagged silver edges of Cosmo City were not far below.

All it took was a thought. Suddenly, I was zipping downward, body straight and arms tucked to my side. All of the intricate details of the Tartarus infrastructure became clear. I pushed my arms forward as I plunged, but not for the sake of looking like Superman. My fingers extended and I reached to the Tartarus, struggling to make some telekinetic connection.

I felt it.

The sudden jarring force seemed to rip at my veins. My fingers contorted, and my back arched, as I fought to pull back. I screamed through gritted teeth. My momentum slowed but only slightly. The Tartarus groaned as I pulled but showed no sign of stopping, pulling me down with it instead.

Dangit. How did Fantom make this look so easy?

I needed a different angle. Maybe that would help. Rocketing back down, I closed in on the Tartarus again. But instead of maintaining the same speed, I whizzed faster. There was no time to go around. I weaved through the tight infrastructure of the Tartarus, dodging a labyrinth of sphere chambers and glass passageways.

The city was only a couple hundred feet below us. I could see the cars moving below. Several of them had stopped in the middle of the street—no doubt, to watch the comet with a built-on research facility falling from the sky. Fortunately, we had missed the spires of the tallest skyscrapers. But at the angle we were falling, we could easily wipe out a chunk of the city and smash down several skyscrapers from the base. There was no way I could stop this thing in midair. Not this close to the ground. But if I could redirect it…

My gaze averted to the not-so-distant coastline. I could barely make out the sandy line of beaches.

I pushed. The metal infrastructure wailed under the sudden pressure, slowing ever so slightly. The force drove me downward. I clenched my teeth, bracing myself against an invisible force beneath my feet and pushed harder. Even though I was pushing with my mind, the exertion somehow felt every bit as physical as pushing with my body. Fingernails clawed through my veins. The Tartarus lurched. The metal surface crumpled beneath it. The glass below cracked and shattered. I angled my trajectory slightly, redirecting my focus to the coast. Metal screeched as the Tartarus tilted. Its descent swayed and curved.

My feet hit the ground.

Surprisingly, my body didn’t buckle on impact. Instead, the street was demolished beneath me. Rock and asphalt spewed upward as I slid down the street at a harsh angle, digging myself into a deeper hole. My feet burned. The Tartarus was screaming at this point, its gigantic form casting a foreboding shadow.

The shadow swept past me as the Tartarus angled down on the coast. It disappeared behind the building-laden horizon. A volcano of sand and water erupted into the air. The splash sounded like a tidal wave and the earth shook, rattling me especially since I was buried halfway in it.

And then silence. Pure, beautiful, terrifying silence.

The asphalt crater was scalding as I tried to climb out of it. I could feel the heat wafting up and distorting the air around me. Fortunately, my jumpsuit handled the burning surfaces extraordinarily well. I staggered out of the hole. A perimeter of cars surrounded me. People slowly exited their vehicles, hundreds of eyes pinned on me. And then the voices swarmed, echoing through my skull.

—look at that—Oh my gosh!—in the name of—who is that kid?—the Tartarus—Holy crap!—was that thing?—sweet mother of—is anyone hurt?—hit the beach—what happened—the size of that hole—!

I thought my brain was going to burst out of my ears. I bent over, my head in my hands, pressing my fingers against my temples.

“Stop it!” I screamed

The voices were cut short, as if a door had been slammed shut in my head.

I didn’t pay attention to the startled looks I was receiving now. I had only one focus. Running to the end of the street, I was greeted by a long mound of dirt and wild brush. A sign with chipped, peeling paint was perched at the very top.

Welcome to Cosmo Beach

I was too impatient to use the flight of wooden stairs ascending the mound a short distance away. Instead I scurried up the mound in front of me, scraping past the dry dirt that crumbled beneath my feet. As I stumbled to the top, the setting sun melted across the Tartarus, jutting out of a sprawling sand crater at a slant. The spheres glowed orange, casting white distortions of light in the sand. Several hatches were open and people were reeling and wobbling out. One police officer crawled onto his hands and knees and kissed the sand as he made contact with solid ground.

You did it,
said Gaia.
I am not sensing a single casualty from the impact.

I couldn’t even form words, giving a sigh of exasperated relief instead.

Would you like me to hide my power from your mind now? I should warn you that it will be a physical shock to your body having so much power withdrawn like that.

“Do it,” I said.

As you wish. You may want to brace yourself—

Everything went black.

It all started when I woke up in Cosmo City General Hospital, surrounded by friends—Flex, Whisp, and Sapphire who kissed me right on the lips before I could even mentally process that kissing was a thing we did now. That, in and of itself, might have been enough to send my poor, fragile heart into cardiac arrest. Sapphire finally parted her lips from mine, and I was sure I was redder than the average Corvette.

“Wow,” I said. “I need to wake up in the hospital more often.”

“Please don’t,” said Sapphire.

“I second the ‘please don’t’ request,” said Whisp.

“Yeah, hotshot,” said Flex smiling. “Make this a regular occurrence and I’ll give you a
real
reason to wake up in the hospital, you narcissistic little glory-turd.”

“Lick my pits, you feet-smelling butt-monkey,” I said.

Flex playfully punched my shoulder and shook his head. “Man, I missed your ugly face.”

Sapphire just rolled her eyes. “Boys.”

And that’s when I noticed a fourth head in my cramped hospital room, and I wondered how I hadn’t noticed him there before. I mean, aside from the fact that he’s a skinny little weasel who would disappear if he turned sideways.

He still had a swollen black eye from our last fight.

“Marrow,” he said.

“Nero,” I said. “You’re alive.”

“Yeah, well, you punch like a girl.” And then Nero winced. “I mean…what I meant to say was…what you did—Fantom and the Tartarus and everything—was pretty cool.”

“Thanks.”

Nero scratched his head and glanced at the floor and shuffled his feet awkwardly. He appeared to have reached his one-vague-compliment quota for the day.

“You were communicating to us through Morse code while you were in a coma,” I said. “That’s pretty cool too.”

Nero smiled—like a
real
smile, not his stupid trademarked smirk. “Thanks.”

I glanced past Nero, scouring the corners of my cramped hospital room. Nero had popped out of nowhere, and I kind of hoped that someone else would pop out of nowhere as well, even though he was roughly the size of seven Neros.

But my dad wasn’t there. I don’t know why I hoped he would be.

***

When your life is perpetually weird, things feel infinitely weirder when your life achieves a state of normality. For an aspiring teenage Superhero with an alien living inside his brain, my life felt astronomically normal and non-life-threatening, and it was freaking me out.

Like the fact that I was not only living like a slob at Flex’s apartment, but I was playing video games with him, and it was awesome.

“Falcon Punch!” Flex exclaimed as Captain Falcon punched me in my cute, pink jiggly-puffy face.

“C’mon, Jiggly Puff!” I said. “Get your Pokémon butt off the floor and—yes! YES! Eat my magic star wand, you fiend!”

I whacked Captain Falcon in the face, and he plunged over the edge of Yoshi’s Island.

“
Noooooooooo!
” said Flex—a long, awkward wail like Darth Vader’s infamous “
Nooooooooooo!
” but several octaves higher. “Dang it. How do you always beat me?”

“Beginner’s luck?” I said.

“Whatever. Rematch. You’re going down this time. And to make it especially embarrassing, I’m playing as Princess Peach. Victory
and
the distribution of public humiliation will be mine.”

“Bring it. I’m playing as Kirby.”

“What is it with you and all these cute, fat, little pink blob people?”

“C’mon, you know Kirby’s the best.”

“I know that you have an obsession with cute, fat, little pink blob people. That’s all.”

The next arena opened and we proceeded to beat the snot out of each other to absurdly peppy battle music.

“Heard from your dad?” asked Flex, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably.

“No.” I tried to play it cool, like I didn’t care, but it had been three weeks since I got out of the hospital and my dad was just as much an absentee parent as he had been for the last fourteen years.

“Oracle invited us over for dinner,” said Flex, quickly changing the subject.

“Sweet,” I said.

“You say that now. But little do you know, she’s can’t cook. Heck, she’s a worse cook than me. And I’m a terrible cook.”

“You
are
a terrible cook,” I said. “Like that time you tried to make mac n’ cheese by cooking Kraft singles on top of noodles?”

Flex laughed, even as Kirby roundhouse kicked Princess Peach in the face. “Okay, maybe Oracle isn’t
that
bad.”

***

Everyone was dressed in black. It was a harsh contrast to the rich green surrounding us. Soaked from a fresh night’s rain, the willow trees all appeared to bow over Nightmare’s grave. His mahogany casket glowed under the warmth of the rising sun.

Sapphire gripped my hand tighter. It surprised me how emotional she was over the death of someone she never knew. Then again, I didn’t really know him either. Yeah, we’d spent a few days of torture interrogation together. Yeah, he was the only friend my dad had had in years. Yeah, he had died saving my life. But I didn’t know the guy. Then again, you didn’t need to really know somebody like Nightmare to know what he stood for.

Havoc—with an arm in a sling—stood at the foot of Nightmare’s grave, separate from the people on either side. Crowds of people who never knew Nightmare. But they knew exactly what he had done for us. What he had done for all of Cosmo City.

“What is a hero?” said Havoc. “I think a lot of us forget the answer to that question, what with a society that makes fancy celebrities of Superheroes, lifting them up on pedestals—Superheroes who get million-dollar endorsement deals and their faces plastered all over commercials. We start to think, ‘Oh, well the face that’s on TV the most must be the greatest hero.’ He becomes the hero that we worship. But then a man like Nightmare comes along. We don’t know who he is. We don’t know what he’s done. But he’s saved hundreds of lives. Maybe thousands of lives if you consider the impact of what he’s done. And he does it without recognition. He selflessly seals that heroic act with his own blood.

“Honestly, I shouldn’t even be the one telling y’all this. Spine knew Nightmare way better than I ever did, but he wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of public speaking. Everyone keeps asking me if I was friends with Nightmare. I mean, why else would I join him in his fight against Fantom? To tell you the truth, I had never met the guy. He knew who I was, though. He knew my power. He actually came to me asking for help. And he did it by telling me the truth about what was really happening. And you know what? A part of me nearly called the cops on him. But I didn’t. There was something about him—an earnestness in his eyes—that I couldn’t ignore. That, and I wanted to believe. I
wanted
to believe that decades of Superheroes weren’t falling into corruption. I
wanted
to believe that a FIST sidekick intern wouldn’t turn on his own classmate. I
wanted
to believe that a woman who we look to for leadership and guidance wouldn’t turn her back on peace and rationality.”

Oracle, in a black dress and shawl, smiled from across the grave. A tear slipped from her milky white eye.

“And so I fought with him,” said Havoc. “And now here I am, speaking at the funeral of a man whose heroism I am unworthy to express. Nightmare isn’t just a hero. He is a symbol. He is proof that there will always be good out there to outweigh the evil. As much as evil tries to make itself known to the world, the good is always there, silently fighting back.”

Havoc cast a knowing glance my way and smirked.

“And if some of that good just happens to be loud and makes a scene in the process, the world will be all the better because of it.”

As the funeral ceremony ended, I found myself detached, wandering away from the crowds. Even though Fantom was defeated, it didn’t change the fact that Nightmare was still dead. It was like a lasting reminder that our victory wasn’t whole. Maybe every victory was tainted like that.

“Whatcha doing out here?”

I turned to find Flex behind me. Like the rest of us, he was decked out in a black suit and tie, and he had even shaved off his scruff. It would have seemed horribly out of place, but his tie was extremely loose, and his top button was undone, adding a healthy dose of casualness.

“Avoiding human contact,” I said with a weak smile. “You?”

Flex reached into his suit jacket pocket and removed a letter. “This is for you.”

Grabbing the letter, I turned it over in my hands. It had the official FIST seal stamped on it. “What is this?”

“This is the official document stating that you are no longer my sidekick,” said Flex.

“What?” I said, snapping my gaze up from the letter. “Why?”

“Well that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Before I knew that Fantom was a homicidal maniac. Is this for real, Flex? This isn’t funny.”

Flex chuckled, unable to hide his grin anymore. “Unfortunately, it is for real. But not because of that. I had a better reason for filing for a sidekick change.”

Flex raised his arm and pointed past me.

“I know he’d never ask for it, but I think that guy needs a good sidekick like you more than I do.”

I turned, following his index finger to Nightmare’s grave…and the figure now kneeling over his casket.

My father.

Seeing him in a suit and tie was even more shocking with his beard neatly trimmed and his wild black mane of hair forced into a part. His big hands were clasped together, his eyes lowered in solemn reverie.

“So wait,” I said. “If you filed for a replacement, who’s your new—?”

Nero stepped from behind the nearest tree, grinning.

“Sorry for stealing your trainer, Bonehead,” said Nero. “No hard feelings?”

As my initial shock faded, I smiled. “No hard feelings.”

“Okay, okay, girls,” said Flex. “This is touching and all, but Marrow needs to go talk to his new trainer now.”

“Wait,” I said. “What am I supposed to say?”

“I always prefer ‘hello,’” said Nero.

“Ooh, hello,” said Flex, nodding enthusiastically. “Hello’s good.”

Together, Flex and Nero shoved me forward. I staggered out into the open, stumbling to an awkward halt. As I glanced back, Nero shooed me forward while Flex mouthed the word “hello,” winked, and gave me two thumbs up. I swallowed hard against the knot in my esophagus and shuffled towards the grave.

What do I say what do I say what do I say? Sure, hello was a good start, but I was going to need a whole lot more than one lousy word to take back all the horrible things I’d said to him at Oracle’s house. I still remembered the hurt look on his face. That horrible, heartbreaking image was permanently etched in my memory. It made me sick just thinking about it. What if he hated me now?

I stopped several feet behind him. I was afraid to come any closer. I didn’t have try to get his attention. My soft footsteps on the grass were enough. He glanced up, meeting my eyes for only a brief moment before averting his gaze.

The hurt was still there. I could see it carved in the hard edges of his face.

I lowered my head, focusing on my feet instead. I was too ashamed to look at his face.

“I know you probably don’t want to see me,” I said. My voice cracked and I struggled to clear my throat. “I am so sorry. I’m sorry about all the horrible things I said to you.”

A teardrop fell from my stinging eyes, landing on my shoe.

“And I’m sorry about Nightmare,” I said. “He died trying to save me. It’s my fault that he’s dead. I’m so sorry about everything—”

Two huge arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. I glanced up. My father’s shoulders heaved as he wept into my hair.

“You…you’re not mad at me?” I said, my voice trembling.

My father shook his head, tears streaming down the ridges of his face. “I’m not mad,” he said. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Dad...”

I didn’t have to tap into my bone structure to hug him harder than I could ever hug any human being.

***

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Whisp. “You’ve never played catch before?”

“I don’t get the point of it,” said Nero. “All you’re doing is throwing a ball.”

“That
is
the point! Here, I’m going to throw it to you. Are you ready?”

Whisp didn’t even wait for a response. He chucked the ball in a smooth arch across the beach. Nero didn’t move. He didn’t even blink as it came to a gravity-defying halt only inches away from his face.

“There,” said Nero. “You happy? I caught it.”

“No,” Whisp groaned, rolling his head back. “You’re supposed to catch it with your mitt.”