TWENTY-SIX
“BUT WE’VE ALL been using our cell phones,” said St. George. “I called Barry. I called you. I called …”
“Maybe he’s using his powers,” said Danielle. “He’s got …” She closed her eyes for a moment and snapped her fingers again. “He’s got some sort of energy powers, right? He talks straight to walkie-talkies all the time, doesn’t he?”
“Correct,” said Stealth. She held up the phone. “However, to transmit to a cell phone he would still require an active network to tap into. There has been no such thing for fifty-one months now.”
“I remember that,” Danielle muttered. “The annoying habit of knowing everything.”
“Also,” Stealth continued, ignoring them, “Barry cannot partially manifest his powers. If he is not Zzzap, he has no such abilities.”
“And if he’s turned back into Zzzap,” said St. George, “why does he think he’s still in a wheelchair?”
“Is it a cell phone when we switch over?” asked Danielle. She patted herself down. “Maybe you’re talking to him on a walkie. I mean, maybe we’ve all been using walkies.”
Stealth shook her head. “If his mind is still confused it is possible …”
“Ma’am, sir,” said Freedom, “perhaps this is a conversation we can continue in a more secure location? We don’t want to be trapped out in the open if there’s a longer shift.” As he spoke he stepped to stay between Danielle and an exhausted jogger plodding along the sidewalk.
“Agreed,” Stealth said. The phone vanished back into her pocket. She nodded to St. George. “Continue.”
“We’re almost there.” He pointed ahead to a tall brick building. “That’s her dorm.”
Madelyn’s roommate, Kathy, opened the door. She was dressed in baggy sweatpants and a loose tank top, but didn’t look like she’d been woken up. Her eyes widened when she saw George. Then her jaw dropped when she saw Stealth.
“Oh my God,” she said. Her jaw pulled itself up and became a wide grin. “Oh my God.”
St. George felt a kick in his own stomach. He hadn’t recognized her before. The last time he’d seen Banzai alive and without her mask had been almost five years ago, the morning of the day she’d died. They’d all met up to discuss strategy against the exes. She’d been dressed in her rainbow-colored karate uniform with her mask slung over her shoulder, standing next to Gorgon as they’d all studied a map of Los Angeles.
“Hey,” he said, forcing the memories away. “Is Madelyn here?”
“Oh my God,” said Kathy. Her eyes were still locked on Stealth.
“How do you do,” said Stealth. She held out her hand. St. George could tell she was shaken, too, although she did a much better job of hiding it. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Is your roommate here?”
“Oh my … yes. Yeah, she is.” She stared at the hand like she was both thrilled and terrified by it. Then she stepped back and pulled the door open. “Maddy, it’s for you.”
“Who is it?”
Kathy looked out again and noticed the wall of digital camo behind Stealth. Her gaze went up until she saw Freedom’s face. “It’s your friend,” said Kathy. “And Karen Quilt. And a giant.”
She stepped out of the way and waved them in. St. George glanced back at Freedom, then drew a line between Kathy and Danielle with his eyes. Freedom nodded his understanding.
They filed into the dorm room. Madelyn was stretched out on her own bed in sweats and a T-shirt, holding a textbook open above her head. She glanced over and sat up when her eyes settled on Stealth. “It’s you,” she said. “You’re here.”
“I am. You know me?”
“Sort of. I know your voi—John!” Madelyn used her hands to bounce to the end of the bed and lunge at the captain.
Freedom caught her in one arm and hugged her. St. George saw the huge man’s face shift. It was still formal and serious, but a layer of tension washed away as he held the girl.
Danielle pushed the door closed behind them. Kathy retreated onto her own bed and pulled her MacBook into her lap. A moment later the sound of YouTube comedy clips buzzed over the speakers. She stared in awe at Stealth over the top of the screen.
George realized, without much surprise, that Kathy was watching old Monty Python clips.
The captain set Madelyn down in her chair. “It’s good to see you, too,” he said.
“At least you remembered not to call me ‘ma’am.’ ” She smiled.
“So,” said St. George, “first off, I don’t think you should shoot anyone else to help them remember.”
Her face dropped. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know what else to do. Smith had got to you again and you just kept denying stuff.”
“Where is the weapon?” asked Stealth. “It is best if I take possession of it.”
Madelyn twisted around and grabbed the backpack hanging on her wheelchair. She pulled it into her lap, fished through it, and pulled out a pistol.
Kathy gasped. “You’ve got a gun?!”
Stealth held out her hand and Madelyn handed her the pistol butt-first. The supermodel checked the safety, ejected the magazine, and yanked the slide back. “Sig Sauer Pro 2009,” she said. “Four rounds remaining in a magazine which holds fifteen. You are too young to purchase a handgun in California. How did you acquire this?”
“I know a guy.”
Stealth reloaded the pistol and tucked it into the waistband of her slacks so it would be hidden beneath her trench coat. “Who?”
“His name’s Hector. He’s a member of the South Seventeens. He got it for me.”
“Hector de la Vega?”
Madelyn nodded. “If it makes you feel better, it freaked him out, too.”
“If you were shooting at him to convince him,” said St. George, “that might be why he freaked out.”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“How much have you seen?” asked Stealth.
“Huh?”
“Twenty-two minutes ago all of us experienced a shift in perceptions which allowed us to see the world as it is instead of the reality Smith has implanted in our minds. Has this happened to you?”
Madelyn shook her head.
“Have you seen any of the walking dead?”
“The walking dead?” echoed Kathy from her bed. St. George took a half step and placed himself between the girl and Stealth.
Madelyn shook her head. “I haven’t seen them. I remember them from our world.”
Stealth shook her own head. “There is no other world.”
“No, there is,” she insisted. “We’re not supposed to be here. In our world, there was a virus that—”
Stealth held up a hand. “I am aware of the timeline,” she said. “However, there is no other world. We are in our world now, but your perceptions and memories have been altered so you do not register it.”
“What? No, my memories are fine. I mean, they’re fine for me.”
Stealth looked at Madelyn. “You are familiar with the writer-director named George Romero?”
She smirked. “Yeah, of course.”
“What were the monsters called in his movies?”
“What?”
“It’s important,” St. George said. “It’s a test, sort of.”
“I … I don’t know. They’re just dead things, right?”
Stealth shook her head. “There is another name for them.”
Madelyn shrugged. “No idea.”
Kathy peeked out from behind her laptop. “They were zombies, right?”
St. George and Stealth both looked at her. “That is correct,” said Stealth.
Kathy smiled.
“Ex-humans,” said Danielle. She dragged the word off her tongue.
Madelyn scowled.
“Do you trust us?” St. George asked her.
She looked at him, then at Freedom. “Yeah, of course I do.”
“Then that’s all that matters for now. Pack anything you might need and let’s get going.”
Madelyn spun her chair around, pulled opened a drawer, and grabbed a pair of jeans. “Ummmm …” She looked up at Freedom and St. George. “Would you guys mind waiting in the hall for a few minutes?”
St. George glanced at Kathy, then at Stealth and Danielle. “Will you be okay in here?”
Stealth nodded.
“If it’s all the same,” said Danielle, “I’ll wait outside with you guys.”
They shuffled outside. The dorm hallway was empty, although the echoes of voices and footsteps came from either end. St. George could hear a shower running somewhere, too.
Freedom stood with his back to the door. Danielle pressed herself against the wall near a fire extinguisher. “A wheelchair’s going to cause problems,” she said. “If we have another shift we could be trapped somewhere.”
“Technically we’re already trapped somewhere,” Freedom said. “The shift should make it easier because we’ll actually be able to see where we are and what’s around us.”
“And if we have another shift,” added St. George, “she shouldn’t need it anymore, anyway.”
Danielle shrugged and looked down the hallway. A young man in a towel strolled out of a bathroom and across the hall to a room. The clunk of his door echoed in the hallway.
“Worst-case scenario, I can carry her,” said Freedom. “Or she could just ride piggyback.”
“This is the worst-case scenario,” Danielle muttered. “We’re running for our lives and we’re almost helpless.”
Madelyn hauled herself back onto the bed and pushed the sweatpants down her legs. She tried not to think about getting naked in front of a woman who was a thousand times more attractive than her, but it was kind of tough when she was forced to wrestle with her jeans. It reminded her that her thighs were kind of fat for her height and Karen Quilt’s were perfect.
“If you want it,” she said, “there’s a black hoodie in the closet. It’s a little too big for me. You can have it.”
Karen—no, Madelyn thought, Stealth. We always call her Stealth—arched an eyebrow. “I am warm enough, thank you.”
“No, I didn’t think you were cold. I just meant, if you wanted it because—”
“I am aware of what you meant. Thank you, but no. Do you require assistance?”
“It’s okay. I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” Her fingers hooked into the belt loops and pulled the jeans up. She dropped onto her back and the jeans slid over her hips. “Everyone tells me I got really sick when I was nine, that’s why I’m in the chair, but I don’t remember it. You think I’ll be able to walk again once we’re out of here?”
“It would seem once we each consciously realized Smith was affecting our perceptions, we began to find ways around the blocks he has created. As our minds create these new pathways and associations, our memories and abilities have begun to return.”
“But I’ve had my memories all along,” she said. “So why do I need the chair?”
Stealth looked at the other side of the room. “I am not sure,” she admitted. “It is reasonable to assume the unique nature of your mind has allowed you to remember certain elements of the actual world. It is unclear, then, why certain aspects of the illusionary world appear to be locked in your conscious mind.”
Madelyn twisted her lips. “So this might be permanent?” She shifted her legs over the edge of the bed and slid back down into the wheelchair. She landed hard and winced.
“Again,” said Stealth, “I am not sure. There are too many inconsistent facts.” She looked at the far side of the room again.
“What do you mean?”
Stealth said nothing. She just stared at Kathy. The other girl traded looks with Madelyn and shrunk down a little more behind her laptop.
Freedom pushed Madelyn’s wheelchair down the hall. Danielle hovered behind him. St. George and Stealth brought up the rear.
“Returning to the hotel should be our new priority,” she said.
He glanced at her. “Why?”
“Barry will be arriving there within the hour and will be unprotected. Also, my father always insists on traveling with certain items. There are weapons there which we can use.”
“Are there?” asked St. George. “I mean, it’s just going to be an empty hotel room, right? Most of the hotels and motels in the city were pretty well looted in that first year. Hell, we looted half of them.”
She took in a small breath through her nose.
He looked at her. “What?”
“There may be more to these perceptual illusions than we first believed.”
“What do you mean?”
“My initial hypothesis of our situation, based on our knowledge of Agent Smith’s abilities, may be flawed.”
“What makes you think so?”
“You did not tell me Banzai was Madelyn’s roommate.”
“Well, I didn’t know it was her until fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “And, I mean, it’s not really her, right? The real Kathy’s still wandering somewhere around in … what, West Hollywood last time we saw her?”
“It is,” said Stealth. “Madelyn never met Banzai while she was alive, and has never encountered her as an ex-human. Neither has Captain Freedom. Banzai died nineteen days before Cerberus was deployed to Los Angeles, so Danielle has only known her as an ex.”
“So?”
The corner of Stealth’s eye tightened. She was frustrated with him. He was missing something.
“George,” she said, “how could they be seeing and hearing an actual person they have never met? The illusion cannot be based on memories they do not have.”
He glanced back up the stairwell, toward the dorm room. “Maybe Smith planted the memories the same way he plants suggestions.”
“Smith has also never met Banzai. How would he know so many precise details of her appearance, voice, and personality?”
“Maybe it’s a perception thing,” he said. “Maybe what we’re seeing isn’t what the others are seeing.”
Stealth shook her head. “There are too many common references for us to not all be seeing the same things.”
They stepped out into the sunlight. The sounds of the campus washed over them. There was a faint breeze from the west. St. George’s street sign lay in the freshly mown grass by the door with Stealth’s broomstick crossed over it.
“So, you mean … this really is another world?”
Stealth’s eyes tightened again, harder this time. “I do not know,” she said. “Either conclusion is inconsistent with the evidence.”
“Which means what?”
“Which means there is a third conclusion which is consistent with all the evidence. Unfortunately, at the moment I do not know what it is. Even our clothing is inconsistent. Ours and Danielle’s remain the same in both worlds, yet Freedom’s uniform changes.”
“Yeah, I noticed that.” He picked up the improvised weapons and handed the wooden stick to Stealth. “Are you okay?”
“Of course.”
“I just ask because I know illogical things drive you nuts.”
She took in a short breath. “It is … frustrating,” she admitted. “I appreciate your understanding.”
“Hey,” shouted Madelyn. Freedom had already pushed her a dozen yards down the sidewalk. “Come on! We’ve got to go be superheroes.”