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The night sky is aglow from the bright orange debris falling from space. The impact countdown has already started. The guards don’t pursue her, and Emma picks up speed, driving as fast as she can toward the location she memorized on the map.
Outside the shield, Emma sees the glow of fires spreading from the fallen meteors and other debris. When she opens the window, she’s hit with the smell of charred wood; the forests surrounding the city must be catching fire. The streets are empty; everyone in New Bright City is already hunkered down in their shelters. Wind whips through Emma’s short hair, and with the wind, glowing embers and bits of ash are flying everywhere.
Emma breathes in the hot air as she speeds through the empty streets, racing out of the city in record time. She shudders as she drives through the shield; it feels gross, like wading through pudding, but it’s over in a second.
She plows through the Unmaintained lands; the streets here are pockmarked with small craters; a few are still aflame. Emma can see the traces of what once was a satellite: a chrome piece that could be a solar panel, a huge chunk of metal that could be a radio antenna. The sky is filled with white-hot streaks as the meteors continue to fall, bringing with them hundreds of years of humanity’s space debris. These pieces—some as small as her fist, some as big as the car she’s driving—are causing spectacular damage falling to Earth.
Emma shakes her head, driving as fast as she can out of the city.
A huge, flaming mass comes hurtling toward her, and Emma screams, jerking the car wildly to the right, narrowly avoiding it. She turns to see the mass hit the road behind her.
Emma keeps going.
Outside the city, the effects of the impact are worse. Here in the open fields and the Unmaintained lands it’s been dry for ages, creating the perfect tinder for even a stray spark. An entire field is ablaze, and what looks like an official North American Collective farm, entire fields of wheat and corn and soybeans, all gone in an instant.
She heads north, following the old, cracked road, that is repaired just enough to be drivable, but still looks as if it’s unmaintained. It must be maintained only enough for Kingston’s people to drive out here.
Streaks of blazing fire rain down upon the forest and the mountains surrounding them. The world is on fire. She can hear shouting in the distance, but the flames are taller than she is. The entire field ahead of her is ablaze; the grass is long gone, smoking and charred pieces float about, and she can’t tell where the ground ends and the sky begins. She doesn’t have Abby’s armor or Bells’ shapeshifting ability or Jess’ ability to find a safe route; she doesn’t have any powers at all. But she can do this. She can find her friends.
Emma coughs, exhaling smoke as she sees a shape in the fire. That must be it; it’s the only building for miles, an ugly squat square thing with a reinforced door. The facility looks flimsy, made from plywood and scrap in a clumsy attempt to blend in with the rest of the pre-Collective buildings that were gutted by the Disasters but still stand. It’s clearly an outlier, something built recently for a sinister purpose.
Emma shakes; her hands drum on the wheel as she recognizes her friends’ voices. Abby’s cries out in a hoarse voice. Bells shouts as if he’s struggling with a heavy weight. Jess gives steady assurances even as her voice wavers.
Emma looks up at the sky, unsure how much time she has. An unnaturally bright star seems to be growing exponentially, and Emma gulps. This must be it.
It’s one thing to calculate a trajectory and see the solution in numbers and coordinates on a screen, and another to see the result of countless calculations and predictions in person: meteors hurling toward Earth. The damage from the first wave of debris is already evident in the pockmarked field, huge craters in the earth, the entire field gone up in flames. Emma can feel the heat in the air, and it seems to pulsate, thicken, take on a life of its own.
The building is still standing, but it seems to be locked.
Crash. Another piece of debris takes off the entire roof of the building, and now the whole thing is on fire.
Screams.
Flames grow taller and taller, lick the edge of the building.
Emma takes a deep breath. She has no one to help her, no one behind her, no powers to think of, but she’s not going to let that stand in the way of helping her friends.
“I just have to cross the field,” Emma mutters.
A few seconds are all she needs. She spots a path; bare bits smolder where the flames aren’t as intense. She can avoid the fires; it’ll be like a game, except this is very real and losing would mean certain death.
On the other side are her friends. They need her help. They need her.
“I’m on my way.” Emma jams her foot on the pedal, going at full speed.
The little convertible launches forward. It’s just momentum and wheels and determination now, and Emma and the car fly through the fire, past the flames and the danger and toward the waiting darkness.
She pushes open the door and jumps out of the car, tumbling forward into the smoldering grass. She can smell burnt hair—her own—and singed rubber and fabric. She rolls into a little ball, watching the vehicle gain mass and momentum.
The car charges through the doors of the facility and bursts through the metal like a hot knife through butter. The building never stood a chance.
The wind picks up, and Emma knows there are hot embers landing in her hair, on her shoulders. She runs forward, right into the open gap in the burning building.
She takes off her jacket, uses it to cover her mouth and nose, but still coughs as she pushes through the smoke. It’s hard to see, but there’s a glimmer of metal and chains somewhere through the flames.
Fire. Fire all around her, blazing unnaturally in all sorts of colors. Metals in the air, corroded paint in the buildings burning; this facility is filled with toxins that give the fire new life, the flames taking on colors. Most prominent is dark violet. Purple has always been her favorite color; it’s alarming now to see it so menacing, so ready to destroy. Emma remembers the properties of tantalum; it burns purple. It must be everywhere here at this compound. Tantalum suppresses powers. So, if it’s everywhere, her friends won’t be able to do anything to get out.
Emma charges forward.
The air is heavy, and the fire outside seems distant, just background noise. But the fire is the least of their worries; P019 isn’t over, and there are more meteors to come. Emma looks up, and the night sky is unnaturally bright as the star that isn’t a star hurtles toward them. “Bells! Abby! Jess!” Emma yells.
“Em!” Bells sounds both relieved and terrified.
“How did you know we were here?” Jess coughs.
Emma waves the heavy smoke away and finally can see them all clearly; they’re all standing; a set of heavy chains is wrapped around the seven of them. “It’s a long story,” Emma says, grabbing the chain and yanking.
“We’ve tried that,” Bells says. “There’s tantalum in these chains, tantalum all over the building— I can’t shift—”
“Okay, okay, I’ll figure out a way.” Emma exhales, shaking her head at all of them. “I can’t believe you got caught!”
“It was Abby’s fault,” Ricky says.
“Not my fault,” Abby snaps. “Look, we had to go after you—”
“And then Vindication—”
“I told you not to follow,” Emma says, looking for something, anything to break the chains with.
“You told me not to follow,” Bells says smugly. His expression changes into worry. “Did you— are you okay?”
“Is she okay!” Ricky shrieks. “She’s not the one chained up in a burning building!”
Emma grabs the first thing she sees; a long, heavy hunk of metal that probably belonged to a sign or a pole. She drags it forward, being careful of the jagged edges of broken steel, and steps around the smoldering wooden beams.
She walks around her friends and the heavy chains binding them to the pole and picks out a wide swath of chain links between Jess and Bells. She heaves the jagged metal, silently thanking all the hours and hours she spent with Southard cutting logs.
Emma swings.
The sound of the steel hitting the links clanks, and beads of sweat drip down Emma’s forehead. She swings again, gritting her teeth at the jarring sound, and then there’s a satisfying clink and the sound of a link dropping to the ground. Emma grabs at the chains, pulling the first layer free.
Christine kicks the chain, forcing another layer down.
“What are you doing?” Sasha elbows her sister, pushing at the chain.
“Trying to teleport!”
Jess and Abby kick and push and finally all the chains are on the ground.
Ricky whoops just as another beam falls from the collapsing building.
Emma coughs. “Come on, let’s get out of here!”
The sky is now almost as bright as day, lit by blazing fire.
“We’re not gonna make it,” Abby mutters.
“We’re going to make it!” Jess affirms, pumping her fist. “Just run!”
Bells cracks his neck; his body extends as he grows, his arms and legs grow longer and longer. “I’ve got this,” he says. He picks them all up and strides through the falling beams and fire as Jess frantically shouts directions.
“Left! Now, right! And jump!”
Fresh air meets them just as the sky blazes with another meteor, which crashes into the building. The ground shakes and buckles, but they’re all safe, lying in the parched dirt. Even Kingston’s beautiful car survived. The paint is scratched, and the front is dented beyond belief, but it looks mostly intact even crashed into a wall.
Ricky coughs. “You can still use your powers? How come I can’t?”
“The tantalum,” Jess says. “We were in there for hours; it affects us differently, I guess.”
Sasha whistles. “Bells, you’re something else.”
“I know,” Bells says proudly, exhaling.
Emma doesn’t know who bursts into laughter first, but it’s infectious, and soon all seven of them are giggling and laughing.
Jess grabs Emma in a hug. “Thank you so much; we thought— I didn’t think we’d ever see you again.”
“Yeah, it was a good plan. I mean, leaving us here chained up in tantalum,” Abby says, heaving. “We couldn’t get out and—”
Emma doesn’t know why, but she lets out a short burst of hysterical laughter. “No one with powers would be able to.”
She turns; Bells is lying in the dirt next to her, and now face-to-face with him, she’s overcome with emotion: affection, relief, hope, all bundled together in a tumultuous mix.
“Oh, Em—” Bells says, eyes brimming with tears. “Is a hug okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” Emma says, exhaling.
Bells wraps her up in his arms, and then it’s just her and Bells and how much she’s missed him.
Emma looks up and smiles at him. She has so much she wants to say, starting with how sorry she is for leaving but it all disappears with that smile. Everything she was afraid of, not being good enough for the Resistance, being worried about Bells— it all seems so small now.
Bells smiles at her, and Emma can see five-year-old Bells telling her, “friends forever no matter what,” and Bells telling her months ago that he would always love her, and it all will be okay.
Through the billowing smoke behind them, the trailing embers glowing against the dark, wasted landscape, a figure steps strides toward them— a masked man wearing a supersuit in red, a V emblazoned on his chest. His cape flaps majestically in the wind.
Vindication.
Emma sits up. Her friends do too, sharing a terrified look; Emma can only wonder about their last interaction.
Bells is shaking. Jess grips Abby’s hand. Ricky cowers behind Christine. Sasha and Tanya close their eyes, as if they’re trying to use their powers.
Emma’s mind spins. A plan. She needs a plan.
Vindication laughs. “Well, Miss Robledo, how commendable. You’ve found my assets.” he says. His voice is familiar, the way he says Miss Robledo—
Bells squares his jaw, stepping forward. “If you wanted to kill us—”
“Just frighten,” he says coldly. “You weren’t in any real danger from the impact; I just wanted to show you what happens when you cross me.”
“We could have died!” Tanya snaps.
“Perhaps,” Vindication replies. “In any case, it wouldn’t have been a huge loss. There are plenty of other meta-humans I can work with.”
It’s the voice—the tone—the practiced way he’s shaping his words: camera ready, as if he’s leading a show.
“Lowell Kingston,” Emma says suddenly.
“What?’ Jess turns sharply to look at her. “You’re sure?”
Vindication doesn’t say anything, but Emma knows she’s right. Vindication is Kingston. Kingston is Vindication. The very same man who sits as one of the scions of leadership on the Council, the man the country trusts most, he’s been gallivanting around as a masked vigilante.
Abby whips her head toward him, and, behind her, Emma can hear her friends take the image in. The man and his fluttering cape, the way he’s hovering in the air, the glowing embers of the burnt hills behind him, the smoke slowly rising. He’s all coiled anger and power in front of them, the same man who’s graced the news with promises and comfort guiding the Collective toward a bright, shining future.
“That’s who you are,” Emma says. “Those experiments, you had Orion’s research, too. Except you had all of it, and you perfected it. That’s what you were offering. Powers. Activating the meta-gene. Except you can’t fully activate a gene that isn’t expressed in someone. But you can, literally, inject powers into someone, and it would take, if you had enough of their brain tissue.”
“Very astute, Miss Robledo.” Vindication—Kingston—laughs, pulling off the mask. “I clearly won’t be needing this anymore; this was all part of the plan, anyway.”
“And what plan is that?” Jess demands.
“You think I’ll tell you everything?”
He glances up, his eyes cold and triumphant, and then effortlessly floats into the air.
He’s flying. Lowell Kingston is flying. Emma knew Vindication could fly, had seen it recorded; but it’s something else, something utterly and terrifyingly real, seeing it happen before her.
Emma is frozen in shock, in fear.
Through the smoke, more figures are approaching: two, three, five, seven. Emma can’t count them, there are too many. Some of them are distinctly human, but many of them are the square, hovering robots that haunt her nightmares. They’re getting closer.
The first to join Kingston’s side is Dynamite.
Kingston paces, as if he’d timed this for extra drama. “You know, your little Resistance efforts are sad, really. I’ve come across your messages, trying to warn people. Oh, so easy to find, to erase.”
Abby’s hands ball into fists, and she tenses as if she’s going to charge forward, but Jess holds her back. Jess looks at Emma, her eyes questioning.
Emma’s thinking. If he has Orion’s powers—controlled lightning blasts and flight—he should also have her power level. Orion was a Class C, despite all the supplmenets and attempts to be stronger.
“We need to run,” Jess whispers. “I don’t know why my instinct says backward—”
“There’s too many of them, they’d surround us,” Emma says. “And the bots—”
“I’ve got an EMP in my pocket,” Abby whispers.
“Okay. Keep him talking,” Emma says; a plan is forming in her head. “Abby, wait until the right moment.”
“He just said he wasn’t going to monologue,” Ricky mutters.
“Oh, yeah?” Bells says, with exaggerated cheekiness. He gives Emma a sidelong glance and a wink; he knows what he’s doing.
Bells calls out to Vindication, challenging him. “What makes you think you could use those powers better than Orion? It’s all for show, anyhow.”
“Yeah,” Sasha taunts. “Like, flight? That cape?
Christine scoffs. “You look ridiculous. What cheap fabric! Couldn’t you have used something that isn’t polyester?”
Kingston’s eyebrows twitch.
“And what’s up with that color scheme?” Tanya adds. “So gaudy.”
“It’s dramatic,” Kingston says, testily. “I am power, I am influence, I am— VINDICATION!”
Emma yawns. “You’re quite boring as a hero. I’m actually disappointed.”
Kingston’s face turns red. “How dare you? I am the best meta-human this country has ever seen! Better than Orion, better than the original wave really. I’m going to revolutionize the way we use powers. No more of this silly farce.” He grins, every one of his gleaming white teeth sparkling with menace. “The only people who’ll have powers are the ones I decide are worthy. No more Heroes’ League of Heroes, no more Villain’s Guild. It’ll be a new era!”
Kingston laughs, stepping forward, holding his hands out and watching the lightning crackle between his fingertips. “You know, when I first started in Meta-Human Affairs, we talked about so much about meta-humans, especially the truly powerful ones. The idea of the League itself, a group of heroes founded to help people and inspire others, well, after the Disasters, they needed something to focus on. A villain.” He smiles. “Everyone needs a good villain, you know?”
Emma makes a gesture behind her back, encouraging her friends to follow her. How much longer will they need? She steps backward, a few steps at first, then faster. She hopes it seems they’re afraid. Yes, Jess is backing up with her, and Bells, and Abby.
Kingston is still talking. Behind him, other meta-humans approach, and the MR-D4Rs rise up behind them, flanking them like a small army. “Gravitus was an easy scapegoat for the early stages of the League, but it’s really only in the last decade that we really came across a great system. Meta-Human Training, to find the perfect people to cast as villains. Interesting powers, of course, low enough level that they weren’t a danger, and of course finding the right leverage.” Kingston looks to his side, where Dynamite is grinning maniacally. “And of course, sometimes we happen upon individuals that have just the right temperament.”
“Is that why you kidnapped us? Locked us up in tantalum— you were going to take our powers too?” Bells glares at Kingston, and then makes a gesture behind his back. A thumbs up. It’s simple, clear. He trusts her. He trusts Emma’s plan. He has no idea what it is, but he’s going with it. Bells glances at Emma and mouths the words, I got you.
Emma wants to smile back, to repeat it to him, and the tension, the fear, the worry she’s carrying eases. Oh, yes, they could all very well die in the next moment. But right now, she feels invincible.
Emma reaches in her pocket and presses a button on the car keys and behind them she can hear its engine purr.
Kingston shrugs. “Take your powers,” he scoffs. “Nothing so dramatic. It’s quite a lot of work, the power-transfer process. And you’re all quite useless, aside from the shapeshifter.”
Bells tenses.
“Don’t you dare touch him. Stay away from my friends. All of them,” Emma says, her voice hardening with anger. “You think this makes you stronger? It doesn’t.”
Kingston holds up a finger and wags it at her. “You know, despite all her incredible powers, Orion was weak. Gave in to monologuing, which is how I know you children recorded all that incriminating footage in the first place. Unlike her, I am quite aware of the power of image. And I am above monologuing.”
“You killed Orion,” Emma says. There’s a part of her that’s shocked, angry, even sad; she didn’t deserve that.
Kingston gives them a smug grin. “You’re right. And you know, we were right, to rein her in. All she ever wanted was fame and fortune and to be the face of the North American Collective. We gave her all that and more. Why, with her powers, she could have easily been the most dangerous and lethal…”
How long has he been talking? How strong had Orion been? Bells said she’d clocked in at four hours, and that was with supplements. Kingston had another mission this morning, and if he flew here, he must be almost tapped out. They’re so close. They just need the right moment to make a break for it.
“When I say now,” Emma whispers to Abby.
She probably dared too much. She shouldn’t have risked the movement; it’s drawn Kingston’s attention. But Emma had to take that chance.
Kingston’s eyes narrow. “You’re fools, all of you. And don’t you—” he laughs suddenly. “Why, you almost had me. I almost started telling you everything, but I can see right what you’re doing; you think you’re so smart.”
He laughs again. “All this time I’ve been working with the League I thought it was about control. But this? This is unparalleled.” He flies in the air, zooming directly at them. “It turns out that all I needed was some perspective.”
Oh, no. Oh, no. The monologue is over. “NOW!” Emma screams. “Run!”
She whirls around and dashes for the car; behind her, Abby activates the EMP and throws it at Kingston’s supporters and the bots. It goes off in a silent thump, and then the first row of MR-D4Rs powers down.
It’s a mad scramble. Emma’s heart pounds, and she makes sure her friends are right behind her as they rush into the car.
Emma presses on the gas and doesn’t look back.