Meta (20 page)

  
"...What do you say to the rumors that maybe
you're
Omni?" She finishes.

  
What.

  
"Well I certainly wouldn't be able to tell you if I was would I?" Brad replies back, then winks at the camera.

  
He literally winked at the camera. I can feel the blood rushing to my face. Not only has this idiot endangered everyone's lives here today, taken full credit for saving them, but now he's actively encouraging a rumor that he's Omni. That he's me.

  
I push Jim's hand off my shoulder and storm off in the other direction of the media circus. I need to be alone for a little while. As I push through the crowds of reporters, police and EMTs I can hear them all chattering amongst themselves, speculating as to what actually happened. I should be happy. It was risky for me to activate my metabands here. No doubt, The Controller will be suspicious as to how Omni was able to show up here so quickly to respond. That's not even taking into account the risk of someone having seen me transform.

  
But I'm not happy. I'm furious. I risked everything and someone else is getting the credit. The credit that I can never have. Midnight, Iris, hell even Derrick unknowingly, have critiques and criticisms for how I'm doing this job that I never asked for. And now when I finally did something right, by myself, some asshole is out there getting all the credit for it.

  
I push the door of the staff lounge open hard and it hits the back of the wall. It's dark inside and my eyes can't immediately adjust from the bright sunlight outside. I grab the nearest stool and throw it into a row of lockers. I'm not even supposed to be in here as a lowly beach cleaner but I don't care.

  
"So I'm not the only one who's pissed off."

  
The voice startles me, since I assumed I was alone. It's Sarah. She's still wet from the lake, sitting on a bench in the darkest corner of the lounge.

  
"What tipped you off?" I ask.

  
"I know what you did," she tells me.

  
My heart stops. She knows. She can't know. Knowing will put her at risk. She must have seen me in the parking lot. I can't believe I am this stupid.

  
"You do?" I ask.

  
"Yeah," she replies. "Matt told me. He said you tried to stop Brad from coming in after me and having the rescue called in."

  
"Oh," I say.

  
Simultaneously, I feel both relief and a tinge of disappointment. Disappointment that Sarah doesn't know my secret. That feeling is quickly replaced by guilt that I would want her to know, even though that would mean her life would be in danger with that knowledge.

  
"I just knew that on the news they said this Controller guy sends these things to places where there's already a chaotic situation happening. That he tries to make it worse," I say.

  
"Yeah, I know. And now Brad's out there, not only getting credit for the little girl that I saved, but also for defeating a monster that he didn't," she says.

  
"But no one can prove that he didn't, so of course he'll take the credit," I say.

  
"It wasn't him, I know," Sarah says, "because I saw him. I saw Omni."

  
Gulp.

  
"It was just a blur past me in the water, but the speed, the color of the thing. It had to be him. I know it was him. I'm not sure how he knew to be here or what he did to that thing that came after me, but I know it was him. I owe him my life," she says.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

They gave all of us a half-day at the lake after a monster hellbent on killing everything in sight showed up, so that was a plus at least. Even if the lake hadn't recently been the scene of a nearly violent metahuman altercation, you would have barely been able to get to the water, thanks to all the media still camped out.

  
Brad was all over, not only the metahuman news channels, but the regular ones as well now. It's big news when a human "defeats" a metahuman, even if it's technically not an actual metahuman that he defeated. The world loves the story of an underdog, and there's no bigger underdog nowadays than the human race in the face of the new surge of metas.

  
When I put the key into the lock of the front door of my house and enter the living room, I'm not surprised to find Derrick glued to the TV and his laptop.

  
"Another quiet day at the office, huh?" he says.

  
I give a tired laugh.

  
"Tell me what happened," he asks.

  
"You've been online, you probably know more about what happened than I do by this point. I missed most of it."

  
"So what's your thinking: is this Brad guy Omni?" he asks me.

  
"Of course he's not Omni!" I yell before I'm able to catch myself. "I mean, I don't know. He could be," I continue, trying to recover from the fact that I might have seemed a little too sure that he's not actually Omni, and if that was the case, how would I know? It invites too many other questions, especially from someone as naturally curious as Derrick.

  
"I was just kidding. It's obvious this dope isn't a meta human. If he were, the government would have shut him up and gotten him off of appearing on seemingly every TV show that's asked him tonight. Also, even a total moron wouldn't freely give up his identity after what happened to Doppelganger," Derrick says.

  
Doppelganger. I almost forgot about him. Part of the first wave of metas, his primary ability was the power to shapeshift his appearance to perfectly replicate anyone. Neither hero nor villain, he farmed out his ability to whoever the highest bidder was. Sometimes that was the government, asking him to infiltrate a terrorist cell to gather information, or to sneak behind enemy lines to rescue Americans taken as hostages by foreign enemies. Sometimes though, the highest bidder was a mobster, asking him to spy on their competition.

  
He made a lot of money for his services, but it apparently was never enough. As happens when you're involved with a bunch of people with dubious morals, he eventually pissed off the wrong person. Since Doppelganger had the ability to look, sound, and act like any person on Earth, he didn't think he had to be especially careful about his identity. Why hide who he really was when he can always change his appearance to be anyone else at his whim?

  
To this day, no one is sure which group it was that he ultimately crossed; whether it was the mob, our government or that of another country, or any of the dozen terrorist groups he worked for. All anyone knows is that the group he pissed off, systematically killed everyone Doppelganger ever knew or loved. Not just his close family and friends either. They killed relatives he'd never even met before. Old co-workers that he'd lost touch with. His college roommate. Everyone. That's how you get to the man that can hide in plain sight.

  
"So what did you see?" Derrick asks me.

  
"Not much really," I lie, "it was too much to take in. One minute there's this gigantic sea monster rising out of the ocean, and the next minute it's gone. Just bubbles rising up from where it was."

  
"And this Brad guy got the other lifeguard and the girl out by himself?" he asks.

  
Uh, obviously I didn't see that part since I was busy being drowned at the time. I quickly think of a lie.

  
"I'm not sure. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I just ran once I saw that thing. I was hiding in the bathroom," I say.

  
A flash of disappointment crosses Derrick's face. He does his best to hide it, but it's there. He thinks his brother is a coward. A couple of weeks ago, I was a hero in his eyes, and now, even though he knows there's really nothing I could have done, he just doesn't see me the same way. But that's all just pride. Ego. I know what I did. I know that I saved them. If Brad takes the credit for it, and if my only living relative thinks I'm a coward because of it, then that is just something I'm going to have to learn to start dealing with. This isn't going to be the first time I'm going to have to put aside my pride if this is my new life.

  
"Yeah, I can see that. No need to risk your own neck in a situation like that. I'm glad your safe little bro," Derrick says, and I can tell that he means it. As much as he'd love for me to have returned today with details of my heroics, I know he's just glad that I'm all right.

  
"Anything new going on there?" I ask, gesturing to Derrick's laptop and referencing the meta message boards that he's got open in multiple tabs.

  
"Not really. Just people arguing over whether Brad is Omni or not. There was a fight between two metas in Culver. Sounds like it basically ended in a draw but a few bystanders were hurt. Luckily no one was killed," he tells me.

  
"That's good."

  
"There's a bunch of jokers on these boards now all claiming that they have metabands now too, so most of the boards have devolved into people arguing over whether they're lying or not, dissecting ViewNow videos from people posting them as 'proof'. It's starting to get exhausting trying to keep up with all this stuff," he says.

  
"I'm sure. It was probably a lot more interesting speculating when there weren't actual metas, hurting people," I say.

  
"There's some pizza in the kitchen if you're hungry," Derrick says.

  
"Thanks, I'm starving."

  
I spend the night in my bedroom going through the events of the day over and over again. I keep trying to figure out what The Controller's trying to do. Or trying to prove. It's impossible to dissect the mind of someone who derives pleasure from other people's pain like this though. It's just a game for him. Someone who's so socially isolated that they can't imagine what it's like to experience the pain of losing someone you care about.

  
The scariest thing to think about is that even if he is caught and brought to Silver Island, what good is it going to do? They can eventually station some metas to guard him, but how do you prevent someone from using their power when their power isn't localized? He can rot in a prison cell for years and still create these monsters any time he wants, anywhere he pleases. How do you stop that? And if he refuses to relinquish his metabands to them willingly, then what? Execute him? What if he can't be killed? Would they just have a bunch of metas brutally beat him to death? Probably. Hell, they’ll probably even put it on TV at this point.

  
He can stay hidden away in his mom's basement for years, never having to expose himself. Maybe when we attack these creations of his, it harms him in some way, but there's no way to know. All I do know is that the frequency of these attacks seems to be increasing, and the creatures he's creating are becoming more deadly. Stronger. Faster. I got lucky with finding the Merman's weakness by accident, but I know next time won't be so easy. He won't make the same mistake again.

  
I look down at my phone and scroll through the phonebook. I land on an entry that is in there just as "M". It's the number Midnight gave me to call him in case of emergencies. This isn't an emergency though, and he was very strict about that. For all I know, this isn't even a number to actually reach him. Knowing him, it's tied to some automated gadget that'll just home in on my location and extract me from it. He still doesn't trust me to fight on my own.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The next morning I wake up to find missed phone calls and voicemails waiting. I'm hopeful for a moment that they're from Midnight, then disappointed to see that they're just from Jim. I look at my watch to make sure I'm not late for work, and then tap the button to listen.

  
Before I've even heard halfway through the first message I'm already running out the door and jumping into Derrick's car. I have to get to the lakefront, now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I get to the lake as quickly as possible. It's before the lakefront itself is scheduled to be open for the day, but most of the employees are there already. Some are sobbing, holding each other. I find Jim in the crowd.

  
"I got your message. What happened?" I ask.

  
"They don't really know the specifics yet. There was some kind of attack at his house last night. They don't know who or what it was, but considering the roof was ripped off, they're reasonably sure it involved a meta. His parents were away on vacation, but his sister's... she's dead."

  
"Oh my God," I say, feeling a weakness in my knees.

  
"Brad's in pretty bad shape too. He was technically dead at the scene when they found him, but they were able to bring him back using a defibrillator. They think that's the only way he made it through at all. Whatever it was that attacked him, thought he was dead and left," Jim says.

  
"The neighbors didn't see anything?" I ask.

  
"It was pretty late at night. A few say they heard a loud noise, but by the time they went to see what it was, the damage was already done. Honestly, I think some of them are lying. Pretending that they didn't see what did this, so it doesn't come back and do the same to them. Part of me can't blame them," Jim says.

  
"I can't believe this," I say, trailing off. Behind Jim, I see Sarah, sitting far away from the group by herself. She's on a rock and staring into the lake. She looks like a zombie. I excuse myself from Jim and go over to talk to her.

  
"Hey," I start, "are you okay?"

  
She doesn't respond. She just keeps staring at the lake.