Super Villain Academy 2: Polar Opposites (12 page)

“We’ve been so worried,” she said as she embraced Jeff in an awkward, stiff-armed hug.

He looked down at the top of her head as if he could see through to the inner workings of her brain to figure out where the sudden concern came from and how she got back from her international travels so fast.

“Polar!” Frank sprang through the front door, looking like a party host welcoming guests to the luau. He clapped Jeff on the arm and ignored Sarah’s sneer at the use of the villainy nickname. “We were beginning to wonder if we’d have to go in to retrieve you ourselves, son.”

Jeff squinted at his parents. “What’s going on?”

Sarah managed to look insulted by Jeff’s suspicion. “I already told you, we were worried.”

“Have you even begun to look for Oci?” Jeff crossed his arms in front of him.

“What does that have to do with it?” Sarah’s familiar scowl was a strange comfort to Jeff.

“Well, I’m having a hard time understanding how you guys can give a rat’s ass about an abduction we witnessed, yet you call in the Calvary,” he hooked his thumb in Don’s direction, “when a news camera traps me in a parking structure.”

“Watch your language!” Sarah snipped.

“Son,” Frank started.

“Don’t chill me, Dad.” Jeff rolled his shoulders to shake off the fingers of cool air wrapping around his arms and stroking his cheeks.

“Of course not,” Frank said. “You’re our son. We worry. That can’t come as a surprise.”

Jeff looked from one parent to the next, remembering how his dad had mounted a search when Jeff had gone into hiding because he’d been so confused about his dueling heritage and who he was supposed to be. He remembered the impressive show of force they’d mustered from both sides of the super front—most astounding because it was pre-balancing—in order to bust him out of Mystic’s possession. Yet, something didn’t ring sincere in his dad’s explanation. Dad was an ex-villain, though; maybe he couldn’t help that saccharine tone that made your mind scream, “Fake!”

Frank must have recognized the acceptance in Jeff’s expression, because he swung away with his hand stuck out.

“You must be Don. Thank you for getting Polar…er, Jeff. I couldn’t find an available super that isn’t still on the police’s most wanted list.” Frank pumped Don’s hand enthusiastically.

Jeff noticed that the appreciation didn’t extend to his dad’s eyes. He chuckled when he realized his dad didn’t like Mr. Smarmtastic any better than he did. Suddenly framed by a frown, Frank’s gaze shifted to Jeff when he heard him chuckle. Making up a quick excuse, Jeff stammered, “Oh, I… uh… never thought about the villains being on wanted lists before.”

Don leered at Sarah, still shaking hands with Frank as if they were having a thumb war. “I’m always there for my girl.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, and shifted all her weight to one foot.

“If you need the kid to hide out for a couple days, I could arrange something,” Don offered. He pulled his hand from Frank’s grip and wiped it on his thigh. Then pinning Sarah in his sites he said, “I could put you and the kid up for the time being. I’d make you real comfortable.”

Sarah grimaced. “No, Don, that will not be necessary. That will never be necessary.”

He shrugged. “Very well then. Keep your nose clean, kid.” He clapped Jeff on the arm, sending him stumbling sideways.

The three watched Don drive away. Staring at the departing import, Sarah said, “Sorry about that, Frank. He’s the only one who answered my request for help.”

“I thought good guys were supposed to be good,” Jeff said. Then immediately thought of his mother’s freezer burned personality and wished he could take back the comment.

“They just fight for good, Jeff,” Sarah said. “Well, fought. Now everyone fights for right. They don’t have to be likeable, though.”

“Well Don Juan there sure has that one sewn up.” Jeff turned and walked toward the house. “What’s for dinner?”

Chapter 20

“You’re quite the showboater,” Set drawled.

Jeff tossed a packet of papers onto a card table. “Yeah, that’s me. I just love to be in the limelight.”

“What’s this?” Set shifted the top piece of paper to look at the next sheet.

“Mystic’s phone records,” Jeff said.

Set’s left eyebrow arched high on his forehead. “How did you manage that? Are Daddy and Mommy finally helping?”

Jeff rolled his eyes, but wasn’t sure if it was because the question annoyed him or because his parents annoyed him. “Well, I don’t have a clue if they are finally helping or not. They supposedly are, but I haven’t heard anything, and I’m not gonna sit around waiting.”

“So, how’d you get these?” Set asked with what Jeff suspected might be a hint of respect in his voice.

“Source,” Jeff said. He reached over and fanned out the pile across the table.

“I understand you have sources,” Set growled. “I’m wondering if they are reliable or not.”

Puzzled, Jeff asked, “Huh?”

“Who are your sources?”

“Source is my sources,” Jeff said.

Set glowered.

“You don’t remember Source, do you?” Jeff asked.

Set shook his head, looking suspicious.

“Skinny kid, glasses. Total nerd, really,” Jeff said. “He was abducted a couple months before me from SVA. White hats took him and converted him. Not that
that
matters now, but… well, anyway, he’s super smart and knows how to do stuff like this.”

Set shrugged. “That’s good then. Anything interesting in here?”

Jeff shook his head. “I don’t think so. Source pulled the most recent activity, plus the activity around the time of the abduction, and also a few months before it. We were hoping to find some sort of change or a number that was used a lot, but I haven’t been able to spot anything, though I’ve really only glanced over it.”

“Leave it here and I’ll study it,” Set said.

Jeff wasn’t sure he appreciated his tone of voice, as if Set managed to include, “because you’re far too stupid to work this out on your own,” without saying it aloud. Rubbing a hand over his face, Jeff decided not to fight. “Fine. What have you been up to?”

“I pretended to be a scout offering Mystic a high profile job,” Set said. “I called her mom and made some excuse about losing Mystic’s contact info. She gave me what she had. The email address was no longer valid. All social media accounts had been removed. I was pretty excited when the phone number was still valid, but it was answered by an ex-roommate who gave me another number. That was answered by someone else, who referred me to another number, etc, etc, until I finally got a disconnected number.”

“That blows,” Jeff said, burying his knuckles in his tired eye sockets. He sighed and leaned against the wall. “What’s next?”

“There were a couple places mentioned during my many conversations that I’m going to check out.”

Jeff yawned.

Set held his blink closed slightly longer than normal. His eyes fluttered open and his pleasant tone sounded forced. “You look exhausted. Go home. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

It had been a long, stressful day. Jeff nodded. “It’s late.” He didn’t mention that Mother was likely going to have a conniption fit if she caught him sneaking in through his window.

On the way home, thoughts jumbled together in Jeff’s head. Why hadn’t they gotten a ransom request from Mystic? Images from the melee downtown tangled through his thoughts. He relived his cowardly crouching in the parking structure, only to have the day Oceanus was stolen twine up into it. He suspected his snarled thoughts were his guilt over not having saved Oci combined with having to cower over grease stains.

Every time he thought about Oci’s situation, he felt there was a big huge clue he was missing; something obnoxiously obvious. However, that didn’t make sense. Trained supers were working to find her. How could they have missed something obvious? Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was jumping up and down, waving its hands, trying to get his attention.

“Hey, buddy!”

Jeff blinked. He sat at a red light. His eyes darted upward to confirm it was still red, before he looked around to see who was yelling. A guy with wrinkled and stained clothes stood on a sidewalk outside a 24-hour diner, waving at him.

“Yeah, you! Aren’t you the kid the police are looking for?”

Jeff forced his expression to remain neutral. “No.”

“You sure look like him.”

He shook his head and called out, “That dude’s bigger than me, with longer hair.”

The guy whipped around to stare through the plate glass window of the diner. Jeff glanced at the television sitting on a shelf high above the counter. There, for all to see, was a picture of him in what Source would call his Incredible Hulk pose; arms curled forward, muscles flexed, veins popping out of his neck, mouth open in a scream. It wasn’t the most flattering look in the world.

The light turned green, and Jeff stomped on the accelerator. At the same time, the guy whipped around and yelled, “It is you!”

Pedestrians turned as Jeff squealed past. In his rearview mirror, he saw the guy hobbling up the sidewalk, yelling and waving his arms widely. Jeff didn’t breathe again until he turned several corners and knew no one was following him.

He spun the dial of his radio until he found a news station. As he suspected, the top story was the riot, and, as he feared, the top related story was the search for him.

Police are looking for a young male, 16—20 years in age, approximately 6’2”, brown hair. Last seen wearing a red t-shirt and blue jeans. A picture of the subject can be found on our website. If you have seen him, police ask that you call Ransom Police Dept’s investigative unit at 208-555-1212. Do not engage. He may be dangerous.

“6’2”? Give a guy the credit he deserves. 6’4”, morons,” Jeff barked at the radio. “At least they got the dangerous part right.”

He pulled to the curb in front of his house and cut the engine. He did his best Spiderman impression up the trellis and through his bedroom window. He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his shirt, and had just unbuttoned his jeans when he heard footsteps in the hall approaching his door. He dove under the covers of his bed and pulled the comforter up under his chin.

There was a light knock on his door just before it cracked open.

“Jeff, honey?” Sarah whispered. “You awake?”

Jeff debated a fake stretch and yawn, but decided to continue to pretend to be asleep.

“Jeff?” she whispered again, slightly louder. After a few moments, she pulled the door closed.

Jeff let out a long sigh. If Mother had known he’d been gone, she wouldn’t have let him sleep. He’d dodged at least one bullet in a day full of them. Without getting out of bed, Jeff kicked off his jeans and curled up under the comforter again. Sleep soon followed.

Chapter 21

“Get up, bro,” Sandra leaned against the doorframe.

Jeff squinted in the morning light. “Go away!”

“Cops are here,” Sandra said as casually as if she were announcing that Mother made pancakes.

“What?” Jeff pushed to a sitting position and rubbed sleep grit from his eyes.

“Someone recognized you and told them where to find you,” Sandra shrugged. “Could have been anyone, really. Neighbors don’t like you. There are plenty of supers who hate the balancing. So many possibilities.”

“Thanks for your concern.” Jeff flung the covers back and swung out of bed.

“Yo! More than I want to see!”

“Feel free to leave.” Jeff ran his fingers through his dirty hair and sniffed his shoulder and cringed. “Tell them I have to freshen up.”

“Take your time. I think Dad’s chillin’ ’em.” She pulled his door closed.

“Sweet.” Jeff picked up a pair of jeans from the beanbag in the corner and pulled a fresh shirt from a drawer.

In the bathroom, he jumped into the shower and washed himself and his hair in record time. When he was dressed, his ran a hand through his towel dried hair and shook it until it fell the way he liked it, then jogged downstairs.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Officers,” Jeff said as he entered the living room. He smelled the telltale ocean scent of his dad’s superpower in action and did his best to keep most of his body out of contact with it as he leaned in to shake hands with each policeman.

He sat on the loveseat next to his dad. “What’s this about?”

“Weren’t you aware that the police have been looking for you?” the troll like officer whose stomach rolled over his belt buckle asked.

“No, sir!” Jeff widened his eyes in mock horror. “Why?”

Both officers seemed to relax. The tall one with the broad chest spoke in a rumbling voice almost as deep as Jeff’s. “You were downtown during the riot yesterday, weren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” As Jeff pumped his polite vibes full force toward the policemen, he watched their muscles visibly loosen. Smile lines appeared around their eyes. The short officer settled back into the couch and crossed a leg over his knee like they were watching a football game together. “That was one crazy scene.”

“Why were you down there in the first place?” Tall Cop asked. He grinned like he anticipated an exciting explanation and he slipped his notebook into his front pocket.

Jeff realized his dad had stopped chilling their guests. That was a huge compliment to Jeff’s skill that his dad trusted him on his own. “Actually, it was a complete fluke that I ended up down there at all. I was shopping for a birthday present for my mom when things escalated. I was a block or so away, and was going to leave, but then I heard a lady screaming. I ran over and saw a kid being trampled in the crowd, and the mother was just getting pushed around as she tried to get to her. I knew I stood a much better chance, being so tall and all, so I waded in to get the little girl out. Got kicked a couple times.” Jeff showed the officers a bruise on the inside of his bicep. “Thought I was gonna end up hamburger meat.”

“Some people reported a strange occurrence shortly before the crowd scattered. They thought you might have had something to do with it,” Tall Cop said.

Jeff continued to pump ‘good boy’ vibes across the room, but the tall cop seemed a little more resistant than short cop, who was polishing his belt buckle with his shirt. “What? That weird magnetic-like thing that happened?”