Powered (18 page)

I slammed him across the room, breaking an end table with his head. He hasn’t commented on my sanity, or lack thereof, again.

I’m checking my rankings when the elevator door opens. I barely have time to marvel at how I currently rank ten thousand out of the forty million players worldwide, when Evan collides into me on the couch, knocking the controller out of my hand.

“What the hell?” I groan, pushing at his hands in an effort to retrieve my controller. He swats me away and summons the MOD screen from its retracted place in the ceiling. Only now do I notice his rapid breathing, racing heart, and the accelerated hum of his power.

“What’s going on?”

His mouth opens and closes, but he’s so frantic he can’t say anything. He just swings his arms wildly at the screen and motions for me to watch. It reminds me of a cartoon character who tries to run but their feet spin without going anywhere. The MOD descends and lights up. It
lights up.
My heart leaps into my throat. I grab Evan’s arm.

The King City purple crown logo fills the entire screen. And then the best thing ever happens.

My dad’s face appears.

“Citizens of King City, this is your president.” The room blurs around me as I focus on only the screen, not daring to take my eyes off him for an instant out of fear that I will miss an important detail.

Fine creases line his eyes and his jaw is a little more rigid than usual, but overall, my dad looks normal. Normal and definitely not dead.

“Look what he’s wearing,” Evan says, nudging my ribs. Dad isn’t dressed in his Hero suit, or even his more official President attire, he’s just wearing a basic black button-up long-sleeve shirt. A shirt like that says—
There isn’t a thing to see here people, move along.
I didn’t even know he owned a shirt like that.

“I would like to thank everyone for one hundred percent cooperation in the lockdown for these difficult seven days,” Dad says. He keeps talking, but I can’t hear it because I’m trying to add up the days spent with Evan on my fingers. I thought it was three, maybe four days? But seven? I only remember showering once. Ew.

“I will now tell you the circumstance of the lockdown. First of all, this lockdown only affects us and the humans are in no harm. Those of you with Heroes in the family may be wondering why your Hero wasn’t called to duty. Heroes, don’t worry, you haven’t been demoted.” He smiles. A genuine smile to anyone who may be looking, but I know he forced that smile. His teeth didn’t even separate and my dad’s real smile is wide and open-mouthed. Maybe he realizes that making a joke during a time like this isn’t very smart. I bet all Heroes who were stuck at home acted like Crimson did—like an insane person better suited for a padded room instead of facing a villain.

Dad continues, “Central was infiltrated with four villains. Only two of which were known villains. The other two were active members of Super society and only decided to show their true colors after the senseless murder of Pepper Locke. Their credentials have been wiped from the system and security is back in full force.”

With Dad’s last few words I notice something odd, and Evan does too apparently, by the way he says, “What the …” under his breath. Dad’s eyes are moving ever so slightly to the left and right as he speaks.

He’s reading the words he’s saying.

Dad has never read an announcement in his life. That’s something humans do because their brains suck when in front of a camera. I turn to Evan, taking my eyes off the screen for the first time. He shrugs. “Maybe … ah, shit. I don’t know.”

For once I could hug Evan for not making some stupid excuse for why things are happening the way they are. For once, he’s recognizing that something is wrong.

“Your orders are to remain in lockdown with your families until further notice. This is in effect worldwide, not just for Central. Please know that you are in no harm, and this is just for safety. These villains do not want to cause death and destruction—they are after one specific thing. We do not negotiate with villains. They will not get what they want.”

Stars fill my vision and I gasp for breath, gulping at air as I realize I must have forgotten to breathe. Evan ignores my near death and leans forward, focusing on the screen. Dad’s eyes are definitely reading something on the other side of the camera.

“I would like to announce that every Super in Central has been accounted for and is practicing lockdown in their residence. If you are concerned about your loved ones in other homes, please take solace in knowing that they are okay.” His eyes look directly at the camera now. “Every single one of you.”

“What about me?” I blurt out, temporarily forgetting he can’t hear me. “I’m not at home. You don’t know that I’m safe! Did you forget about your own
daughter
?” Evan’s rubix-cube coffee table crumbles into pieces as I slam it across the room. I yell to my dad’s face, “You’re lying!”

Evan tries to grab my arm but I pull away. “What else is he lying about?” My eyes flare with rage as Evan clamps a hand over my mouth and shoves me into the couch.

He says one worth through clenched teeth: “Listen.”

Dad’s voice fills the air again. “Your MODs will be turned on at the end of this transmission. Please await further instructions on when the lockdown will be lifted. Thank you, citizens of King City and Supers across the world.” Dad nods curtly and the screen goes black.

I shove Evan’s hand off me, grateful that he forced me to listen to the last part of dad’s message, but not grateful enough to let him know that. I leap over the back of the couch, sprinting to where my MOD has been sitting useless on the end table. It turns on just as promised. I laugh.

“I think maybe you need a padded cell,” Evan says from across the room as he picks up multi-colored cubes and puts them back into the large toy he uses as a coffee table.

“Sorry about that.” I kick a few pieces of it back in his direction. “At least you can put it back in the right order now.”

“The ice queen apologizes,” Evan mutters. “That’s a first.”

I ignore that. My MOD powers up as usual, a sequence of colors and logos and words that was so familiar to me for several years and now it feels like an eternity since I’ve seen it. With anxiety and excitement competing for space in my mind, I open my messages … and find nothing.

“Do you have any new messages?” I ask Evan. Maybe they aren’t working just yet.

He shakes his head without checking his MOD. “Dunno why I would.”

“Could you at least check?” I snap. He couldn’t be more nonchalant about something so serious.

His hand reaches in his pocket but then he stops. “You know what? No.” He crosses his arms. “I’m not checking. And I’m sick of you telling me what to do.”

I’m about to give him a piece of my mind when his pocket starts to ring. The look of defeat on his face is freaking priceless as he reaches into his pocket and accepts the call. A hologram appears in the air between us, showing a woman with long sandy hair and high cheekbones.

“How are you holding up, son?”

He rubs the back of his neck and gives me a quick glance. “I’m fine. How are you, Mom?”

“I’m wonderful. You know my penchant for freeze-dried dinner and zero communication with my scrapbooking club. Who needs friendship and home-cooked meals, anyhow?”

“It’ll be over soon,” he says. A border collie jumps into her lap and she pets his head. “Hey boy,” Evan coos to the dog, whose ears perk up but quickly sag when he doesn’t see the source of Evan’s voice.

“Look there,” his mom says, pointing at the air where Evan’s hologram must be. “Do you see Nano? He’s right there. Evan, wave.”

He waves but the dog still doesn’t see him.

“I’ll let you get back to becoming a mad scientist. I’m going to call your aunts and check up on them. Take care of yourself, Nano.”

I smile at his nickname and wait until they’ve said their goodbyes before I comment. “Nano?”

“I was really big into nano-technology as a kid,” he says. “I invented tons of useless crap and she’s kept all of it at her house. You know how parents are.”

I nod. None of my childhood things are still in the house. But I wasn’t exactly inventing things as a kid. I was learning nine types of martial arts and getting a high school diploma at the age of eleven. I’m not even sure where I put that diploma but it isn’t hanging on the wall.

Now isn’t the time to drudge up memories of my childhood and ponder about what life would have been like with a mother like Evan’s instead of a strict, law-making and enforcing father. I flip on my MOD, mentally noting that it could use another layer of duct tape. I scroll for dad’s name on my contacts and press the call button. My father has some explaining to do.

Evan raises an eyebrow as my MOD lets out an unexpected error message: access denied. no call permissions granted to this user.

Annoyance and apprehension flicker through me as I try making the call again, only to be met with the same computerized voice denying my right to call my dad. “Maybe it’s broken. What’s your number?” I ask Evan.

He snaps the last piece of his coffee table back into place and rattles off his number as I take care to type in each digit correctly. I send the call and his MOD lights up instantly. “He’s blocking me on purpose.” My words are whispered, their softness the total opposite of what I feel. My fist clamps around my broken, taped-together, worthless MOD—clenching tighter with each second as the device slowly cracks into pieces in my hand. I inhale a deep breath and let the particles fall to the floor.

“You need to call him.”

“Yeah that’s not happening.” Evan ducks into the kitchen and I storm off after him, only to realize he left to grab a broom and dustpan to clean up the mess I just created. I stand with my hands on my hips as he sweeps the former MOD and disposes of it.

“Call him, Evan. Now.”

As if siding with me, his MOD beeps and he takes it out of his pocket, quickly reading a message and dismissing it before I can read it over his shoulder. “I can’t call the president. Especially during a lockdown. I’d be fired.”

“You won’t be fired when he finds out it’s me.” I snatch for his MOD but he holds it above my head. That’s hardly a deterrent, as all I need to do is swing my leg behind his knees and knock him to the floor. Which I do one second later.

He tucks and rolls and is back on his feet in the next second. “You’re not using my MOD, Maci.”

His condescending tone makes me cringe. I match my tone with his, “Then you will use it.” He shakes his head, his jaw tight and his shoulder muscles bulging from under his black t-shirt. He has never looked hotter than he does right now. But I still want to bash him so hard in the face that he’ll never be handsome again.

“Call him.” The air crackles with the rising level of my power as it grows to match my anger. “Call him or I swear to god, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” His voice echoes throughout the pie-shaped room as I stand paralyzed, unable to comprehend that he just yelled at me. Evan. Mister Super Calm and Always Nice guy. I leave his question unanswered as he continues to yell. “Will you just stop? For one second, will you please just pull your self-centered head out of your selfish ass and be a decent human being?”

My jaw drops to the floor.

He yanks a lab coat off the hook by the door and shrugs it on. “I’m done babysitting you. I’m going back to work.”

White-hot rage boils up inside of me. My muscles twitch with the urge to smash every single thing in this room. I could do it faster than he could stop me. He can’t just insult me like that. He doesn’t even know me. “How dare you speak to me that way,” I hiss. “You are not a Hero. You’re just an isolated loser who plays with high-tech toys all day.”

He shrugs. “Breaking my shit and demanding that I do things your way may work in Central, but it won’t work on me anymore. You won’t get far in life by demanding that everyone obey you and throwing a fit when they don’t.” He opens the door and glances back at me. “And you still can’t fathom why everyone thinks you’re evil. Maybe you aren’t as clever as you think you are.”

A fourth uniformed man drops to the ground, dead from a bullet wound to the head. I hear footsteps from my right and spin around just in time to thrust my knives through another man’s chest. Blood splatters across my vision and I run to clear it away, taking out another person who dares to cross my path.

Filled with an annihilating rage, I stab and shoot and kill until my hands are sweaty as they grip the Xbox controller. There’s something to be said for committing horrible acts of violence in video games when you can’t do it in real life. I can see why Max likes it so much.

Hours have passed with no word from Evan. Glancing at the elevator has become a habit I can’t break. I don’t want to see him after how much he humiliated me, yet every time I look toward the cylindrical glass elevator shaft and don’t see him walking out of it, I get a little disappointed. It’s one thing to have felt totally alone at home a week ago—it’s another to actually
be
totally alone.

I tap away on the controller, clenching my teeth together until the sore spot on my skull aches. Stupid Evan with his stupid golden hair that’s always messy in a sexy way and his stupid voice that’s always raspy in a sexy way and his stupid mind reading ring invention that I can’t seem to take off my finger.