Twenty Seven #3
D.S. nods. “They’re a manifestation of your event, somehow. They’re not related to your actual powers. Like, as much as it stings when water hits me, water doesn’t take away my power. To be honest, I haven’t found my weakness yet. It’ll come out when I least want it to.”
“If my event is my mom’s car crash…” I consider.
“Your weakness could be anything,” says Dark Static.
“It could be that your powers don’t work when you watch TV, if that’s how you found out about the crash.
Maybe they don’t work when you read a newspaper, if that would remind you too much of your mom.
The last thing is that not every Super has an ‘event.’ I have it on good authority—well, Gold’s authority—that Flare may not have had one, and she got her powers from a source even more rare.
Her weakness is even less obvious. She’ll still have one. Something tailored to her psyche.”
“There’s one more thing I’ll need,” I say. “Besides the Supersuit, or whatever.”
“Yeah?”
“I need to learn how to fight.”
He grins. “I suppose you want me to teach you that too?”
I match his condescending tone. “I suppose.”
“It would be my pleasure to do that specialness for you.”
His suit glimmers as he struts under the lights, leading me to a new section of Golden Ace’s HQ.
I replace his jacket with my shirt, grab two bottles of water, and follow him to a corner past the water tank.
He takes me to a decently sized space that’s set up like a boxing ring, with pads over the concrete.
Dark Static said he’d wanted to help with my powers as soon as I found out about them. He must have prepped for this afternoon, despite the misunderstanding from Hallowfest. Is his secret identity similar? Afraid of showing how thoughtful he really is?
“These are the basic moves.” D.S. punches in a quick motion. “Always watch your opponent’s hips. Even if they’re a Super. If you watch their hips, you can see where they’re going—if they’re about to jerk left, right, or fly behind you.”
I copy him move for move, and he models how to anticipate his punches and recovery, each movement as elegant as a falcon’s.
“What about powers? How do I fight powers?” I dodge his half-speed left cross. He’s not using his full strength yet and isn’t at all winded, while I have beads of sweat forming on my hairline.
“Fighting powers needs more strategy,” he says. “That’s partly why I like to study powers. If you understand how powers work, you can find weaknesses. Maybe not THE weakness, but a blind spot.”
“Exploiting weaknesses. Dark Static’s specialty,” I say, instantly wishing I could take it back.
He barely reacts. “Anger is good. Let yourself be angry.” His arms drop to his sides. “I meant everything I said last night, but if there’s still something you want to say, let’s settle it now.”
I bite my lip, upset with myself for trying to hurt him. I can try it his way and let myself feel, even the difficult emotions. Especially them.
“Ready,” I say.
“Magnificent.” He throws a hard punch, then another. I watch for the hidden signals in his legs and dodge each hit. He adds agility to his jabs, using bouts of flight, but we don’t have time to play.
Spending the rest of my energy, I summon a tide from the tank halfway across the room. Electricity sizzles in his palms, and he cuffs my shoulder just as I pull the tide above him.
The water cascades over Dark Static, hissing as it washes over him. He shakes it off like a wet dog. He’s not smiling when he looks up at me, but his fists relax.
“Roberts, I have a proposition for you.”
I use this opportunity to catch my breath. “Yeah?”
“One more fight, with powers. If I win, we’re moving on and calling Gold to hatch a plan. If you win,” he pauses, deciding. “I need you on my team. If you win, I’ll let you see me without my mask.”
Dark Static’s powers include delivering shock waves, but this shock differs from the 1.2 kilowatts he can shoot through his hands. Supers don’t reveal their identities to anyone . I would be surprised if D.S. knows who Golden Ace really is, and they seem to be BFFs.
I suck in a breath. “Why?”
“I’m not just going to let you win, Roberts. You have to beat me in a fight, where I have an enormous advantage.”
I wipe my forehead and open one of my water bottles.
I need a moment to answer. I already know that Dark Static isn’t Damian, Zane, or Fox, because of what I learned about Damian and Zane at Hallowfest, and how Fox helped me find Arielle when Dark Static wouldn’t.
Could D.S. be Aaron? Or is he someone I’ve never considered?
Either way, D.S. is right—knowing his secret would restore my trust in him, definitely.
“Alright, agreed. Let’s do this.”
The lights go out without warning. Darkness consumes the room, and Dark Static disappears.
“Hey, no fair,” I shout. “I don’t have night vision.”
“That’s a shame.” In my peripheral view, I catch a dim figure jumping beside me. I duck just in time for D.S.’s laser to miss my head.
One second, D.S.’s feathery shape shoots lasers from across the room, and the next, he’s a foot in front of me with a sharp right hook. I dodge his jab and he disappears, popping up a micro-second later by the room’s entrance.
At a distance, he extends his arm, the wispy shadows around his gloves vacillating in the dark. POOF. He disappears again.
Those stupid shadow portals.
He is not messing around. I swear and dive into the pool. As the coldness envelops me, I kick my legs and make the room spin.
~
Dark Static’s powers are fascinating. Not only can he shoot lasers and control lightning, but he can give other objects a charge so they’ll shock you if you touch them.
He can’t do all of these at once, but he’s mastered how to time each power, using them nanoseconds after each other.
My healing powers are just as quick as his speed-of-light zaps.
Which is fortunate because I surrounded myself with liquid, and the lightning would have electrocuted me if my healing powers weren’t fast enough.
As D.S. forces me to respond by relying only on my reflexes, I get a better handle on my powers. My water spirals more creatively, and my tiny explosions are more exact. My healing powers activate instantly in the pool. Thank you, water absorption.
I wonder… Since I can change the chemical structure of anything with water inside, and humans are 70 percent water… can I change the structure of myself?
D.S. is bored with shocking me out of the pool and instead waits for my next move so he can counterattack. As I concentrate, my skin grows dewy and my limbs tickle with a strange weightlessness. I hold my hand in front of my face and almost yelp.
It worked. My skin is now translucent. My clothes haven’t changed, and I’m not truly invisible— see-through is more accurate—but in the dark, there’s basically no difference.
I float to the top of the pool and search for D.S., an impossible task because he can become a shadow as much as I can. I risk my invisibility for a fraction of a second and send a jet stream across the room. A spark flies at it, lighting up his hiding spot. I go invisible again.
I climb out of the pool. The dizziness is immediate.
Without being in water, I won’t be able to keep my skin from switching back for very long, let alone stay conscious.
I have seconds left. With the rest of my energy, I sprint to where Dark Static is hiding, and on the verge of consciousness, I dive headfirst into his stomach.
“OOF.” D.S. and I collapse on the ground. I hit him so hard that neither of us can get up. My skin pulls, as if it’s being stretched through a taffy maker, and my head pounds—instant migraine.
After several minutes, D.S. sits up.
“Well, well, well,” he says. “Who would’ve thought invisibility would be your secret power.”
I groan, but it comes out more like an oink.
D.S. climbs up from the floor and grabs a few waters. “Phil’s going to have his butt handed to him. That’s for sure.”
“I think I am clearly the winner here.”
“Yeah, I’d say so. Congrats, Roberts. Winner winner.” He claps the lights back on and takes his time sauntering to a desk, from which he pulls out a piece of blue construction paper. “This is for you. I wrote this in case this day ever came.”
“What do you mean, this day?”
“The day you found out who Dark Static is.”
Oh yes. That’s right.
I stand and take the note. There’s still a foot separating us, but this feels like the most intimate thing in the world. Our chests heave, and I shiver beneath my jacket. If we aren’t careful, we could start another thunderstorm.
“Alright, Static,” I whisper. I reach for his mask, and he catches my shaking hand, guiding me to a hidden clasp beneath his chin. Chill, Madeline , he’s probably not even someone you’ve met.
The mask feels smooth and impervious, just like polished obsidian. He holds himself like a statue, magnifying my movements as he holds his breath. I start to slide away his mask, but he says, “I wish you’d read the letter first.”
“Not. A. Chance,” I say, like he once told me.
Before we can get there, an earsplitting siren blares. Of course.
I jump back. “What is that? Is it because your mask is coming off? That’s extreme for an alarm.”
Dark Static focuses on his watch, the D.S. 6000. “Someone broke into the warehouse I moved the food to. I have to go check on it. There’s security footage upstairs. If I’m not back in ten minutes, do that thing where you turn invisible and run to the Levines’ house. We’ll do this later, I promise.”
And then Dark Static leaves me, standing in Golden Ace’s secret headquarters, alone.
Holding his note.
Adrenaline pounds in my ears from the siren and almost knowing.
I unfold the blue construction paper. Obviously.
“Alright,” I whisper. “Here goes nothing.”
Dear Madeline, it begins. The pieces of my heart shift, filling one void but cracking open another. Just as I thought it couldn’t be him—that there was no way in the universe it could be him, and so I had dismissed this possibility long ago—here he is.
Dear Madeline,
It’s time to share my secret. It’s probably unfair of me to establish rules for what you can do with this information.
The past three years have put me in a position where I should not be asking things of you, but I hope you can understand why I spent all that time ignoring you and acting like my best friend no longer existed.
I will not pretend this is excusable, but please believe me when I tell you how terrified I was to learn there is a force out there that can take away the people I love the most.
I stopped spending time with you because I wanted to forget what it felt like to love you, and so I wouldn’t feel so alone again if they took you from me too.
But as hard as I try, I can’t forget. It has been amazing to see you handle everything better than I have.
Better than I ever thought possible. I have learned so much from you, Roberts, and I’m deeply sorry for my idiot teenage years.
I hope my honesty here hasn’t shocked you.
If it has, you’re about to get a bigger surprise.
Remember that guy you grew up with? The super attractive one who swims with you?
The one who has killer hair and a great sense of humor?
That’s me. I’m done pretending to be someone else.
See you soon then,
- Dark Static
I sink to the floor. The room spins and I can’t take a full breath or form a coherent thought.
How?
I had considered the possibility—the slim possibility—that Dark Static could be Fox, but still have so many questions.
Like, what in the world is going on with Aaron, what’s the deal with Fox’s feelings for me, and what about all the differences between Fox and D.S.
? Fox’s D.S. persona seems so different from his regular personality, from helping me as Dark Static but being a jerk at swim practice, to trying to stop me from saving Arielle, but then going along as himself when he realized I’d do it anyway.
I press my hands against my flaming cheeks and am glad Fox isn’t here to witness my reaction. I can’t decide whether to scream or to cry or to feel relieved. It’s obvious why he hadn’t told me from the beginning—I never would have agreed to work with him.
Aces, though. Fox had the perfect opportunity to tell me about Dark Static a few hours ago, and instead he asked if I loved him? This entire time, that is what mattered to him? I can forgive him for lying to me, but it breaks my heart that he felt Dark Static was the only answer.
Who are you, Fox? He’s raised the stakes against Phil Bridges.
All of Fox’s scheming and triple plays have come down to tonight.
But he’ll help to save my dad and Capital City.
We’ll avenge his parents and my mom by bringing Phil to justice.
Yet, the apprehension about saving my dad is quickly joined by a different nervousness.
Soon, that boy will come back into the room, and I’ll have to say something to him.