Steelheart

“David, how are you handling Nightwielder?” Tia asked. “We need you to activate phase four. Shoot Steelheart with your father’s gun. It’s all we have left.”


“How am I handling Nightwielder?” I asked. “Poorly. I’ll get out there when I can.” I continued jogging down the large, open concourse beneath the seating. Maybe if I could get outside I’d have a better time of it. There were too many hiding places in here.

He was waiting for me when I came out of that tunnel, I thought. They’ve got to be listening in on our conversations. That’s how they knew so much about our initial setup.

That, of course, was impossible. Mobile signals were unhackable. The Knighthawk Foundry made sure of that. And beyond that, the Reckoners were on their own network.

Except …

Megan’s mobile. It was still connected to our network. Had I ever mentioned to Prof and the others that she’d lost it in the fall? I’d assumed it was broken, but if it hadn’t been …

They listened in on our preparations, I thought. Did we mention over the lines that Limelight wasn’t real? I thought hard, trying to remember our conversations over the last three days. I came up blank. Maybe we’d talked about it, but maybe not. The Reckoners tended to be circumspect about their conversations over the network, just to be extra careful.

Further speculation was cut off as I spotted a figure in the hallway in front of me. I slowed, rifle to shoulder, drawing a bead on it. What would Firefight try this time?

Another image of Megan, just standing there. She wore jeans and a tight red button-up shirt—but no Reckoner jacket—her golden hair pulled back in a shoulder-length ponytail. Wary, in case Nightwielder attacked me from behind, I moved past the illusion. It watched me with a blank expression but didn’t move otherwise.

How could I find Firefight? He’d be invisible, probably. I wasn’t certain he had that power, but it made sense.

Ways of revealing an invisible Epic ran through my mind. Either I had to listen for him or I had to fog the air with something. Flour, dirt, dust … maybe I could use the tensor somehow? Sweat trickled down my brow. I hated knowing that someone was watching me, someone I couldn’t see.

What to do? My initial plan to deal with Firefight had been to reveal I knew his secret, to scare him off as I had Nightwielder during the Conflux hit. That wouldn’t work now. He knew we were on to him. He needed to see the Reckoners dead to hide his secret. Calamity, Calamity, Calamity!

The illusion of Megan turned its head, following me as I tried to watch all corners of the room and listen for movement.

The illusion frowned. “I know you,” she said.

It was her voice. I shivered. A powerful Epic illusionist would be able to create sounds with their images, I told myself. I know that’s true. No need to be surprised.

But it was her voice. How did Firefight know her voice?

“Yes …,” she said, walking toward me. “I do know you. Something about … about knees.” Her eyes narrowed at me. “I should kill you now.”

Knees. Firefight couldn’t know about that, could he? Had Megan called me that name over the mobile? They couldn’t have been listening back then, could they?

I wavered, my gun’s sights on her. The illusion. Or was it Megan? Nightwielder would be coming. I couldn’t just stand there, but I couldn’t run either.

She was walking toward me. Her arrogant expression made her look like she owned the world. Megan had acted like that before, but there was something more here. Her bearing was more confident, even though she had pursed her lips, perplexed.

I had to know. I had to.

I lowered the gun and leaped forward. She reacted, but too slowly, and I grabbed her arm.

It was real.

A second later, the hallway exploded.





38


I coughed, rolling over. I was on the ground, my ears ringing. Bits of trash burned nearby. I blinked away the afterimages in my eyes, shaking my head.

“What was that?” I croaked.

“David?” Abraham said in my ear.

“An explosion,” I said, groaning and pulling myself up to my feet. I looked around the hallway. Megan. Where was she? I couldn’t see her anywhere.

She’d been real. I had felt her. That meant it wasn’t an illusion, right? Was I losing my mind?

“Calamity!” Abraham said. “I thought you were down the other end of the concourse. You said you’d go westward!”

“I ran to get away from Nightwielder,” I said. “I ran the wrong way. I’m a slontze, Abraham. Sorry.”

My rifle. I saw the stock sticking out of a nearby pile of trash. I pulled it out. The rest of the gun wasn’t attached. Sparks! I thought. I’m having a devil of a time holding on to these lately.

I found the rest of the gun nearby. It might still work, but without a stock I’d be firing from the hip. The flashlight was still strapped to it, however, and still shining, so I snatched the whole thing up.

“What’s your condition?” Tia asked, voice tense.

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