Authors: Andrew Ball
it."
"Big words coming from a guy that
cooks and washes dishes."
"We’re even taking over traditional
women’s roles," Daniel replied. "Is there
anything men can’t do?"
"Funny. Just don’t forget that you’re
expendable."
Daniel chuckled. He was really starting
to like her. Rachel rubbed her knee, then
smiled, then started laughing.
"What?" he asked. "Laughing at your
own wit?"
"No, just that I was…kinda…" She
smiled at him. "You have a way of making
sad things not seem like such a big deal."
"No one’s told me that before."
"Well, it’s not before anymore, is it?"
Daniel felt a smile tug on his lips.
"Yeah. I guess not."
"Rachel!" They both looked up. Eleanor
swept into the lobby of the police station
with a suite of black-suited men behind her.
"Are you ok?"
"I’m fine."
"…are you sure?" Eleanor clasped her
in a brief hug. "I heard…it wasn’t something
so easily brushed away."
"Daniel kept me company," Rachel said.
She glanced at him. "He’s quite the
gentleman, when he tries. Really hard."
"You injure me so," Daniel said.
Eleanor ignored his presence. "Let’s get
back to the dorm. I want to hear about
everything."
"…I thought we could give him a ride,
too?"
Eleanor made a face like she’d just
chugged lime juice. Daniel had to stop
himself from reaching for his phone to take a
picture. "…I suppose…that could be
arranged," Eleanor mumbled.
Daniel stood. "It’s fine, I’ll walk. We
wouldn’t want to contaminate Lady Astor’s
limo with anything as commonplace as
myself."
Rachel shook her head. "But it’s over
three miles to -"
"If Mr. Fitzgerald wants to be a stubborn
ass, let him," Eleanor said.
"Finally she comes out and says it,"
Daniel said. "How long did that one
marinate?"
"I generally don’t insult people right to
their face, unlike some."
"It’s a proud habit of mine," Daniel said.
"I’d rather be called an ass up front than
suffer through your passive-aggressive crap."
Eleanor ignored the bait and turned back
to Rachel. "Let’s get going."
"Wait. Info for you two." He leaned
close. "The police gave themselves away by
being too hush-hush. I looked some things up
on the internet. This is actually the second of
the same kind of murder." He leaned back. "I don’t want to cause a panic or something, but
encourage your friends to stick together."
Rachel nodded. "I’ll do that."
Daniel rubbed his forehead. "This
whole thing is strange. Campus murders are
always blown out of proportion as soon as
something gets hold of them, right? This is
different. And the murder itself…" He trailed
off. Rachel looked worried. Even Eleanor
was paying attention to him. It wouldn’t do
them any good to be freaked out. He sighed.
"Well, just be careful, is what I’m saying."
"Insightful, aren’t you?" Eleanor said.
"Leave it to the police, detective."
"Far be it from me to advise Miss
Astor." He looked at Rachel. "Stay safe."
"Are you sure you don’t want a ride?"
Rachel asked. "It’s late."
"It’s early. I’m a night owl." He waved
over his head and stepped around the suits.
The men shifted to let him pass. "I’ll call you
later."
The glass doors slid open. Just as his
shoes tapped the sidewalk, he heard Eleanor
mumble something that sounded distinctly
like disapproval at Rachel for having given
her number to him. He bounced down the
road with a cheery smugness.
****
Daniel waited his usual hour after Jack
turned the lights off, resting on his bed and
fiddling with his phone. On top of needing
less sleep, he was pretty sure his night vision
was getting better.
After an hour of searching, he wasn’t
able to find anything else on the two
murders. He passed the time with a few
games of Sudoku. When he was sure Jack’s
breathing had evened out, he slipped out
from his covers.
The light clicked on. Daniel leapt about
five feet in the air. "I knew it." Jack was sitting upright. "What are you up to?"
"…uh…bathroom?"
"You’ve been getting up every night and
coming back early. I’m a light sleeper.
What’s going on? And don’t shit me."
Daniel slumped into his desk chair. He
sighed. "The thing is…"
"What? You can tell me."
"I’ve got chronic insomnia," Daniel
said.
"…are you serious?"
"It’s not a joke!" Daniel shouted.
Jack shrunk away. Daniel struggled to
keep his face angry. He had a feeling he
might be discovered, so he’d prepared the
cover story in advance. It wouldn’t work if
he didn’t put on a good performance, but
yelling at his friend wasn’t something he was
thrilled about.
"I get stressed out easily," Daniel said.
"There’s been a lot going on, and moving
into college…it’s kicked up again."
"I had no idea," Jack said. "Why didn’t you say something?"
"…when I was younger, it got really
bad…I’d be really out of it. A few times I
even had hallucinations. My parents wanted
me to stay in school though, so I got made fun
of a lot. Bullied." Daniel looked away. "I
was keeping it under wraps because I didn’t
want history to repeat itself. I wanted college
to be different."
Jack slid his lower body down off the
bunk and fell onto his feet. He sat in his chair
across from where Daniel leaned on the
bedpost. "…that’s why you said that stuff,
before? About wanting to change yourself?"
"Yeah."
"What’s it like? Do you still
hallucinate? Um, if you don’t mind me
asking."
Daniel snorted. "I’ve never really told
anyone about it…but I guess you should
know. It’s mild right now, but I only get a
couple hours sleep each night. I get up
because it’s frustrating. Sometimes if I go out
and take walks, it helps. Mostly I end up
beating my head against the wall, but it’s
better than nothing."
"Man." Jack sighed. "Seriously, I
wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t told me.
Are you tired all the time?"
"Sort of." Daniel recited the testimony
he’d found online. "I’ve lived with it for a
while. You get used to it. It feels like the
crash after a sugar high. You just want to lay
down and sleep, but it doesn’t come. My
brain’s on switch is stuck."
"That’s awful."
"Preaching to the choir," Daniel said.
"So…now you know. Mind keeping it secret
for me?"
"Sure, sure," Jack said. "Lips are
sealed."
"Thanks."
They were quiet for a few seconds. Jack
leaned forward. "You know…I was bullied
a lot too."
"…you were?"
"Yeah. I’m…heh. I never told anyone
this either." Jack rubbed his wrists. "I’m
small, you know? Genetic lottery screwed
me over, I guess. It’s always made me a
target. And I’m kind of a loner. That’s why I
didn’t have any friends. When you said that
stuff, about changing…I believed it, you
know? I thought maybe this was it." He
snorted. "But you’ve got a chronic disorder.
I’m just a little short. The hell do I know?"
"…nah," Daniel said. "We probably had
it about the same."
"Maybe." Jack looked up. "I’m glad I
met you, Daniel. I’ve…shit. I’ve got friends.
There it is. It’s the first time in my life I
don’t feel like I’m on the outside. Coming
back to the dorm feels like coming home.
Everyone’s…" Jack wiped his eyes. "All the
guys are happy to see me. You know what a
difference that makes? People, just…happy
to see you."
"Hey. You ok?"
"Yeah." Jack sniffed. "…my mom…my
dad died when I was young. My mom was
always really strict. She thinks I’m a loser.
Nothing I ever do is enough. Her son should
have been a basketball star or a football
player. Her son should be big and strong.
Her son should be bringing home girls and
changing the world, not…not playing video
games…doing math for -" Jack’s voice
choked on a high note. A tear rolled down
his cheek.
Daniel got up and hugged Jack. It was
the only thing he could think to do. "I’m
sorry."
"…shit," Jack said. "I feel like…that all just kinda…"
"I think I understand," Daniel said. "You had to tell someone before it broke you in
half."
"…pretty much. Yeah."
"I’m glad you trusted me enough."
Daniel stood and looked out the window. It
was pitch black. The glare from the light
obscured the view. They passed a moment in
silence.
"The only thing was the travel," Jack
said. "She wanted me to be worldly. She had
this idea that I was going to be a politician. I
liked going around and learning about
different places. Our trips were the only
times she wasn’t scowling at me." Jack
looked at his cluttered backpack, taking in
each sticker and pin. "They’re my memories,
you know? That’s why I started the
collection. I guess…I don’t know. I wanted
to feel like I was holding on to something.
But I don’t need it. Not anymore." A smile
broke through the sadness in his eyes. "I
don’t have to live trying to make her happy.
I’ll live for me. A little while ago, I don’t
think I could have even thought that. But I’m
changing. I’m getting stronger."
Daniel sat back in his chair. Felix came
to mind. And then his father.
Daniel saw himself again, a few weeks
after his mother had died. Pounding on his
father’s door. Trying to get him to answer the
phone, begging him to give them money for
food. And being ignored.
Jack’s experience might be worse than
his—rather than apathy, he received too
much attention, was forced to constantly
jump at a bar that was teased above his
hands. Was this their world? Struggling not
to be as screwed up as their parents?
But it wasn’t their parents fault, not
entirely. He remembered his constant
annoyance with everything around him. His
rejection of the hands that reached out for
him. Mr. Griggs tried to help him out, hadn’t
he? Tom and the rest of the nerds could have
been his friends if he’d cared to make them.
How much of that grey misery was own his
fault? How long was he going to blame his
dad, blame other people?
When was it he realized he hated the
way he was living, the self-imposed
isolation of a cynic? Maybe when he’d
protected his brother. Maybe when after he
got to know Mrs. Faldey. Maybe when Jack
and Jensen and Mark slapped him on the
back. Maybe when Rachel had patiently
waited for him to talk about his mother. To
open up a little.
"If you ever want to talk," Daniel said,
"just let me know."
"I will. Thanks."
"Sure." Daniel stood. "I’m gonna get
some air. Probably until I feel tired enough
to sleep." Daniel snorted. "Which is usually when it starts getting light out."
"Alright. Guess I’ll see you."
"Don’t let the bed bugs bite your balls
off."
"Right," Jack said. "Gotta watch out for that." The light flicked off. Jack jumped up
into bed. Daniel left the dorm.
He had two copies of his makeshift
armor, now. One was in his room, tucked
under his bed. One was in a secluded nook
on top of the parking garage. It helped speed
things up whenever his room was occupied.
As usual, he had to scry a bit to avoid
Eleanor’s black suits. They were like flies
buzzing around the dorm every night. They’d
gotten even more paranoid after the murder.
There were about a dozen of them, now, up
from six the previous week. Who the hell
was she?
He snuck into the parking garage, then
out to the roof. He’d been working on the
design of his suit, adding smaller plates to
protect his joints and the backs of his legs.
He even had a helmet. If he ran into anyone,
his identity would be protected—that, and
his head.
He lifted the chest plate. The rubber-
backed steel and Plexiglas was pretty hardy,
but it wasn’t much to look at. At the moment,
it was black and matte grey. Maybe he
should get some spray paint, come up with a
color scheme. But then, it was already more
or less the colors of urban camouflage.
There were magicians in the city, and
plenty of them. He could feel their magic
flash and burn in the distance every day.
They worked through downtown
systematically, killing Vorid as they went.
Daniel kept to the suburbs, clearing out areas
they hadn’t reached or that still had a few
stragglers. His speed lent him a large