24
I dropped the Rubik’s Cube, lunged forward, and grabbed the microphone on the table. “Hermit! Mr. Sage! Fiera! Can you hear me? Come in! Come in now!”
“Ouch!” Hermit’s tinny voice echoed back to me. “There’s no need to shout, Carmen. I can hear you just fine. What’s the matter?”
“It’s a trap. Malefica set up this whole thing. She wants to capture all of you, not just Striker. Get out! Get out now!”
“What? What is she babbling about this time?” Fiera said.
“Are you sure, Carmen?” Mr. Sage asked. “Everything seems to be quiet. Hermit’s just gotten a possible location for Striker.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Leave! Right now! Before it’s too late!”
“Okay. You heard her. Let’s go.”
“But what about Striker?” Fiera asked.
“We’ll have to come back later. We can’t risk it if Malefica’s expecting us.”
Mr. Sage turned. Suddenly, a brilliant blue light flashed in front of the camera. Mr. Sage stumbled back.
“Run,” he said in a weak voice. “While you still can—”
The superhero went down on his knees and flopped over on his back. The camera on his suit pointed straight up. I had a lovely view of the iced-over, thick, metal pipes that hung down from the ceiling, but nothing else. Scuffles, loud crashes, and bangs cracked and shrieked through the microphone. Fiera let out a string of curses. Hermit shouted something unintelligible. The blue light flashed over Mr. Sage two more times. And then . . .
Silence.
Complete, utter, chilling silence.
“Mr. Sage? Mr. Sage?! Fiera?! Hermit?!” I shouted into the microphone. “Answer me!”
No one responded. I opened my mouth to yell at the superheroes again when I heard something. I listened.
Click-click-clack.
The sound grew louder and louder and louder. My heart sank. That sound had echoed through my nightmares many times.
A long, dark shadow fell over Mr. Sage. A flash of red blocked my view for a moment. The figure pulled back, and Malefica stared into the camera. Her green eyes bored into the lens.
“I can’t see you, Miss Cole, but I know you’re watching. Pity you couldn’t be here in person to witness the end of the Fearless Five. It’s going to make for a hell of a good story.” Malefica laughed in triumph.
A bitter taste filled my mouth. A tight, hard knot formed in my stomach. My inner voice wailed.
“Then again, I have you to thank for my victory, don’t I? Have you figured it out yet? Probably not. Few people can rarely see the big picture. Let me fill you in. I owe you that much.” Malefica leaned closer to the camera, like she was sharing an important secret with her best friend. Me. “I’ve been after the Fearless Five for years. But all my plans to eliminate them always backfired. Until now. I knew your reputation for unmasking superheroes. It’s the reason I hired you to work at The Exposé. You did your job beautifully, until Tornado’s oh-so-tragic suicide. I, of course, wanted you to unmask the rest of the Fearless Five, but you had a change of heart. Pity what guilt does to a person. Of course, I’ve never had a problem with it.
“I had to find some way to get you back on track, some way to motivate you. That’s why I kidnapped you and let Frost threaten to turn you into his latest science project. It worked like the proverbial charm, and you went back to your old Nancy Drew ways. I knew your snooping around would attract the attention of the Fearless Five and that they’d take you in to protect you from me. With Frost’s tracking drug, you led me right to Striker. Then, came the tricky part of my plan. How to get you to lead the rest of the Fearless Five into my trap?”
I closed my eyes. I felt physically ill.
“The answer was obvious. I had to let you unmask me. I couldn’t make it too easy, of course, or you might suspect something. So how to do it? Again, the answer was obvious. Any beat reporter worth her salt comes to know a great deal about the people she covers. How they think, what’s important to them. What do rich people care about? What would a society beat reporter write stories about? Money, expensive baubles, pricey trinkets. I tossed a few breadcrumbs your way, namely the Bulluci sandals, and left a paper trail you could easily follow. I knew you’d figure it out sooner or later. You didn’t disappoint me, which is why I’m going to spare your pathetic life.”
Malefica smiled. “Aren’t you going to say something? Tell me how I’m going to pay for this? Threaten me with bodily harm? Vow to get your revenge come hell or high water?”
Tears trickled down my cheeks. I’d thought I was so clever, figuring out Malefica’s real identity. I was nothing but a colossal fool.
“Guess not. Pity. One more thing, Miss Cole. Don’t bother trying to expose my real identity to the world now. No one will believe you.”
“Why not?” I whispered.
“Because as of this morning, you were officially fired from The Exposé. Something to do with your mentally fragile state—and the fact that you’d broken into my office, threatened me, and stole some petty cash. Lies, of course, but very believable ones, with police reports and other documentation to back them up. Well, I guess this concludes our business. Enjoy the rest of your evening. I know I will.”
Malefica blew me a kiss and reached toward the camera. Her hand covered the lens. Something ripped and snapped.
Then, the screen went black.
I sat there, stunned. Malefica had been using me the entire time. All this time, I’d thought I was the one in control, but Malefica had been pulling my strings like I was a child’s puppet. Now, the Fearless Five were going to pay the ultimate price for my stupidity and arrogance. If they hadn’t already. Sam and the others were going to die.
I buried my head in my hands and sobbed.
Hot tears dripped down my face into my hands and then slid down my arms. A few of the salty drops splattered onto the computer keyboard.
“Ouch!”
I lurched back from the keyboard and rubbed the spot on my elbow where the computer had zapped me. Water and electricity do not mix. I should have remembered that from my story on the Electric Eelinator.
“Stupid computer. I’m trying to have a breakdown here,” I muttered.
But the shock jolted me out of my sobbing fit. I took deep breaths and wiped away the rest of my tears. Now was not the time to cry. The Fearless Five were in danger because of me. I had to do something to help them. And not just because they were righteous superheroes. I’d come to think of them as my friends these last few weeks. Even Fiera. And Striker . . . well, he was something more entirely. Much, much more.
But what? What could I possibly do? I could call the police, but they wouldn’t believe me, not without Chief Newman around to vouch for me. Morgana Madison had made sure of that. Anyway, Bigtime’s finest would be no match for the Triad. They’d be slaughtered like newborn lambs. I couldn’t handle any more blood on my hands.
I picked up my discarded Rubik’s Cube. The only people capable of rescuing the Fearless Five were other superheroes. But I didn’t know any superhero who would help me after what I’d done to the brotherhood. And I couldn’t exactly go through the yellow pages and call them up. Where was the Serious Samurai when you needed him?
I let out a long breath. It was up to me now. There was no one else.
Oh, I had no illusions about myself. Not anymore. I was definitely not a superhero. I didn’t have superstrength. I couldn’t form fireballs with my hands. I couldn’t read other people’s minds. I didn’t have anything to rely on, except myself. A ball of fear knotted in my throat. I didn’t think that I was strong enough, that I would be enough.
Malefica’s cackle of triumph echoed through my head.
The ubervillain had threatened me, manipulated me, used me like a tissue, and then tossed me aside. I wasn’t anybody’s patsy. Not anymore. I slammed the cube down onto the table.
I wasn’t a superhero, but I was seriously pissed off. Malefica was going to pay for what she’d done to me and the Fearless Five. She’d made one major mistake and miscalculation. Everybody knew you didn’t piss off a Southern woman. We might look all sweet and nice and innocent, but every single one of us had a memory an elephant would envy and a mean streak to match. I was no exception. I never forgot, and I very rarely forgave.
“I am woman, hear me roar, Malefica,” I said. “I’m coming to get you, bitch.”