Firefight (The Reckoners 2)

She closed her eyes as she spoke, and I felt a chill. I had felt like she’d described. Who hasn’t? Listening to her, it seemed perfectly logical to me that an Epic should do what they do. That horrified me.

“But you’ve changed,” I told Megan. “You’ve resisted.”

“For a few days,” she said. “It’s hard, David. Really, really hard. Like going without water.”

“You said it’s easier when you’re near me.”

She opened her eyes and glanced over at me. “Yeah.”

“So there’s a secret to beating it.”

“Not necessarily. A lot of things relating to Epics don’t make any sense.”

“Everyone says that,” I replied, standing and walking to my desk. “We say it so much, I wonder if we just take it for granted. Here, look at this.” I dug out my research on Epic weaknesses.

“What’s this?” Megan said, standing up as well. She walked over and leaned down next to me, her head so close to mine. “You going all-out nerd on me again, Knees?”

“I’ve been finding connections between Epics and their weaknesses,” I said, pointing at my notes on Mitosis, then Sourcefield. “We say the weaknesses are random, right? Well, there are some large coincidences related to these two.”

Megan read. “His own music?” she asked. “Huh.”

“What about Steelheart?” I asked, excited. “His powers were negated by people who didn’t fear him. You knew him—is there something in his past you can connect to his weakness?”

“It’s not like we went to dinner parties together,” Megan said dryly. “Most people in the city, even the higher-ups, didn’t even know about me. All they knew was ‘Firefight,’ my dimensional double.”

“Your … what?”

“Long story,” Megan said, distracted as she looked over my notes on Sourcefield. “Steelheart wanted to keep everything about me as secret as possible. So he kept his distance from the real me, so as not to draw attention. Sparks, he kept his distance from pretty much everyone.”

“There’s a connection here,” I said, flicking the papers with one hand. “There’s a connection to all of it, Megan. Maybe even a reason.”

I expected her to object, like both Prof and Tia had. Instead, she nodded.

“You agree?” I asked.

“This was done to me,” Megan said. “Against my will. I became an Epic. I’d sure like to know if there was more meaning to it all. So yeah, I’m willing to believe.” She still stared at the page. “More than willing, maybe.”

It was hard not to notice how near to me she was standing, her cheek almost brushing my own. The urge to reach out and pull her even closer was so powerful that, in that moment, I thought I understood how she must feel being drawn to use her abilities.

“If there is a connection to the weakness,” I said, to distract myself, “there might be a secret to overcoming the influence of the powers. We can get you out of this, Megan.”

“Maybe,” she said, then shook her head. “So help me, if this is related to ‘the power of love’ or some similar kind of bull, I’m going to strangle somebody.…” Her face was right next to mine. So close.

“The power of w-what?” I stammered.

“Don’t read too much into that.”

“Oh.”

She smiled. So, figuring it couldn’t hurt—the worst she could do was shoot me—I leaned forward to kiss her. This time, remarkably, she didn’t pull away.

It felt fantastic. I didn’t have much experience, and I’d heard these things were supposed to be awkward, but this time—for once in my life—nothing went wrong. She pressed her lips against mine, head tilted to the side, and wrapped her arms around me, warm and inviting. It felt like … like …

Like something fantastic I didn’t ever want to end. And wasn’t going to try to explain, lest I somehow screw it up.

A little voice in the back of my head did buzz a warning, though. Dude. You’re making out with an Epic.

I turned that piece of me off. How easy it was to not worry about consequences in that moment, just as Megan had said. I barely heard the knock come at my door.

I did notice, however, when that door started to open.

34

MEGAN broke from me and I spun around. Tia—distractedly looking at the tablet in her hands—pushed the door open. She looked up, then right at me.

I went cold.

“Hey,” Tia said. “I want to send Val to plant some supplies for the hit on Newton. We can have her drop you off, and you can go place that camera for me. Would you mind? I’d rather not wait.”

“Uh … sure.” I resisted the urge to look around for Megan. She’d been standing just beside me.

Tia nodded, then hesitated. “Did I startle you?”

I looked down at the stack of papers I’d dropped, without noticing it, during the kiss. “Just feeling clumsy today, I guess,” I said.

“Be ready in five,” she said, setting a small box on my side table—the remote camera. She glanced at me again, then left.

Sparks! I hurried over and shut the door, then looked back at the room. “Megan?” I asked softly.

“Ow.” The voice came from under the bed.

I walked over and looked down. Megan had apparently thrown herself to the ground and rolled expertly under the bed. It was pretty cramped down there.

“Nice,” I said to her.

“I feel like a teenager,” she complained, “dodging my boyfriend’s mother.”

“I feel like a teenager too,” I said. “Because I am one.”

“Don’t remind me,” she grumbled, climbing out and rubbing her forehead, which she’d scraped on something under the bed. “You’re like five years younger than I am.”

“Five … Megan, how old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“I turned nineteen right before we left Newcago,” I said. “You’ve got one year on me.”

“Like I said. You’re practically a baby.” She held out her hand and let me pull her to her feet.

“We could go talk to Tia,” I said as she stood. “Prof’s not here, and Tia’s more likely to listen to you. I’ve been working on them, explaining that you didn’t kill Sam. I think she’ll give you a chance to speak for yourself.”

Megan frowned and looked away. “Not right now.”

“But—”

“I don’t want to face her, David. It’s tough enough dealing with all of this right now without worrying about Tia.”

I puffed out a breath. “Fine. But we’re going to have to sneak you out somehow.”

“Walk down the hallway, distract anyone you run into, and clear me a path. I’ll hide in the sub again.”

“I guess.” I walked to the door slowly.

“David,” Megan said.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

“Coming down here was crazy,” she said.

“Completely crazy,” I agreed.

“Well, thanks for being crazy with me. I kind of need a friend.” She grimaced. “Sparks. I hate admitting things like that. Don’t tell anyone I said it?”

I smiled. “I’ll be quiet as a buttered snail sneaking through a Frenchman’s kitchen.”

I grabbed my rifle from beside the door, slung it over my shoulder, and struck out into the hallway. It was empty. From the looks of the storage closet, Mizzy and Val had finished unloading the boxes; hopefully they weren’t annoyed at me for ditching them. I slipped all the way down the hallway and entered the sitting room, the lavish chamber that connected to the submarine dock.

No signs of anyone in here. I turned around.

Val was standing behind me.

“Gah!” I exclaimed.

“Looks like we’re going right out again,” she said.

“Uh … yeah.”

Val passed me wordlessly, moving toward the door to the docking room. I needed to give Megan an opening. If Val went inside, there’d be no chance of Megan sneaking into the sub without her noticing.

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nbsp; “Wait!” I yelled. “I need to grab the spyril.”

“Go get it then,” she said.