too much of it, managed to make a rough circle out of the straws, barely big enough to fit my hand through the middle. They vibrated with shared energy, making my fingers numb where they held on, but in the center was a void. This might work. Fuck, I hoped it worked.
Crash . . . crash . . . crash . . . That was the familiar rhythmic sound of Freight Train busting his way through the doors Dr. Marie had so painstakingly led me. I took a deep breath, braced myself with a final thought of Raul, and then—
“Wait!” I cried out as Freight Train smashed through the last door. “Craig, please, give me a second, okay?”
“Edward?” Guess he hadn’t been shown any security footage before they sent him in. “Eddie, what— No.” His slack-jawed expression stiffened back to the square, bulldog stubbornness I remembered. “No, you’re a Villain now. Edward Dinges, I’m arresting you on the charges of—”
“I need ten seconds of your time,” I begged. “Ten seconds, enough to try and show you something that will help you understand. Please. If I don’t at least try this, they’ll kill him.”
“Kill who, your mad boyfriend? He’s a Villain,” Craig said, but he didn’t seem as forthright now as he had a moment ago. “Who’s going to kill him?”
“Mayor Bell.”
Craig’s forehead furrowed. “But Mayor Bell is in prison.”
“No, Mayor Bell is in the red zone operating under the name Maggot.” I could still feel his squirming representative behind my left ear. “He’s organizing an army of escapees from the Abattoir that’s determined to come after Heroes, and the companies that sponsor you.”
“Sounds like a Villain.”
“He is what he was made,” I said, more than a little bitterly. While I despised Maggot, the more I saw of this place, the more I understood his hatred of it. “I was sent here to try and find a way to get through your force field. Something that would let him infest you and get you under his thumb. I don’t want to do that, Craig, but I can’t walk out of here empty-handed, not if I want to save Raul’s life.”
“You’re not going to be walking anywhere, Eddie,” he said sadly. “Not for him or anybody else. You . . . Honestly, I don’t get it. What you saw in him. What made him better than me.”
I sighed. “I knew him longer. I knew him better. I could touch him, and he could touch me back.” Craig’s mouth pinched, and I hastened to add, “But you don’t have to go without! Give me a chance here, all right?”
“A chance to do what?”
“This.” I slid the shoddy gauntlet over my wrist, making sure my hand was completely surrounded. Then I reached out and, very slowly, pushed the ring of straws through the force field. I held them in place, extended my fingers, and stroked them gently across the center of Craig’s chest. I felt him—how his heartbeat suddenly leaped beneath my fingertips, the warmth of his body and the shudder of his lungs as he let out a choked breath, almost a sob.
“Eddie . . . you . . .” Craig’s eyes were wide.
I smiled. “Hi.”
“It’s . . .” He stared down at my hand, then back up at me. “How?”
“Not too tough with the right tools, huh?” Gingerly, I pulled back. He watched me go with utter desolation. “It’s just a bunch of the straws you use every day to eat and drink, taped together. It kind of makes you wonder why they haven’t tried it before.” It was such a simple thing to make him happy. The scientists here had to have considered it, and then summarily discarded it as, what, useless? Unnecessary? Unwise? They didn’t care about their Heroes any more than they did about their Villains.
“They’re . . . they told me they’re too expensive to make, too delicate to . . .”
“She,” I pointed at Dr. Marie, “handed these ones to me as a twenty-pack. They can make what you need, Craig. But they don’t, because it’s better for everyone if they can string you along with promises.
Crash . . . crash . . . crash . . . That was the familiar rhythmic sound of Freight Train busting his way through the doors Dr. Marie had so painstakingly led me. I took a deep breath, braced myself with a final thought of Raul, and then—
“Wait!” I cried out as Freight Train smashed through the last door. “Craig, please, give me a second, okay?”
“Edward?” Guess he hadn’t been shown any security footage before they sent him in. “Eddie, what— No.” His slack-jawed expression stiffened back to the square, bulldog stubbornness I remembered. “No, you’re a Villain now. Edward Dinges, I’m arresting you on the charges of—”
“I need ten seconds of your time,” I begged. “Ten seconds, enough to try and show you something that will help you understand. Please. If I don’t at least try this, they’ll kill him.”
“Kill who, your mad boyfriend? He’s a Villain,” Craig said, but he didn’t seem as forthright now as he had a moment ago. “Who’s going to kill him?”
“Mayor Bell.”
Craig’s forehead furrowed. “But Mayor Bell is in prison.”
“No, Mayor Bell is in the red zone operating under the name Maggot.” I could still feel his squirming representative behind my left ear. “He’s organizing an army of escapees from the Abattoir that’s determined to come after Heroes, and the companies that sponsor you.”
“Sounds like a Villain.”
“He is what he was made,” I said, more than a little bitterly. While I despised Maggot, the more I saw of this place, the more I understood his hatred of it. “I was sent here to try and find a way to get through your force field. Something that would let him infest you and get you under his thumb. I don’t want to do that, Craig, but I can’t walk out of here empty-handed, not if I want to save Raul’s life.”
“You’re not going to be walking anywhere, Eddie,” he said sadly. “Not for him or anybody else. You . . . Honestly, I don’t get it. What you saw in him. What made him better than me.”
I sighed. “I knew him longer. I knew him better. I could touch him, and he could touch me back.” Craig’s mouth pinched, and I hastened to add, “But you don’t have to go without! Give me a chance here, all right?”
“A chance to do what?”
“This.” I slid the shoddy gauntlet over my wrist, making sure my hand was completely surrounded. Then I reached out and, very slowly, pushed the ring of straws through the force field. I held them in place, extended my fingers, and stroked them gently across the center of Craig’s chest. I felt him—how his heartbeat suddenly leaped beneath my fingertips, the warmth of his body and the shudder of his lungs as he let out a choked breath, almost a sob.
“Eddie . . . you . . .” Craig’s eyes were wide.
I smiled. “Hi.”
“It’s . . .” He stared down at my hand, then back up at me. “How?”
“Not too tough with the right tools, huh?” Gingerly, I pulled back. He watched me go with utter desolation. “It’s just a bunch of the straws you use every day to eat and drink, taped together. It kind of makes you wonder why they haven’t tried it before.” It was such a simple thing to make him happy. The scientists here had to have considered it, and then summarily discarded it as, what, useless? Unnecessary? Unwise? They didn’t care about their Heroes any more than they did about their Villains.
“They’re . . . they told me they’re too expensive to make, too delicate to . . .”
“She,” I pointed at Dr. Marie, “handed these ones to me as a twenty-pack. They can make what you need, Craig. But they don’t, because it’s better for everyone if they can string you along with promises.
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