Sanctuary (2 page)

“Listen Corporal…Turner,” she whispered into his ear. He turned very white. Samantha wasn’t tall, but she acted tall. Tall and dangerous. She passed for a high school senior but she
felt
older. “Have you seen what happens when the Marines send their best teams into Compton?”

Corporal Turner nodded, peeking at her from the side of his eye. Samantha was pretty but she was also the most intimidating girl I’d ever met, like a hawk. I didn’t blame the kid for being nervous. I glared at him to heighten the overall effect. “Yes ma’am.”

“What happens, Corporal Turner?”

“We encounter enemy resistance. Sustain heavy casualties,” he said.

“You
lose
.”

“We lose,” he confirmed.

“Do you know why?”

“Yes ma’am. The hostiles we encounter are, ah… they’re…they’re like you.” His voice wavered.

“That’s right. They have soldiers that aren’t natural. Right?”

“Right. Yes, ma’am,” he nodded. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead.

“Just like the Outlaw. And just like me. Right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Pretty soon the Outlaw and I are going in there. We’re going to deal with those hostiles,” she was hissing into his ear. It was theatrical and it was working. “It’s going to be awful, Corporal Tuner. Bloody and awful and a lot of people are going to die. And our job will be a lot harder if you start blabbing about the Outlaw being alive. Right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Right?”

“Yes ma’am!”

“So serve your country. And keep your mouth shut.” He didn’t respond so she started squeezing his hand. “Can you do that?”

“Yes ma’am. Yes ma’am, I can.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to serve my country, ma’am, by keeping my mouth shut.”

“God bless you, soldier,” she said. She shot me a look and we went over the side before he could move.

Back in March, the planet had changed forever.

Monsters exist!

And the monsters live among us.

No one could view the helicopter footage of the showdown in Compton and reach any other conclusion; Hyper Humanity was real. Or aliens. Or both. And they’d fought each other to a terrible stalemate.

(Terms such as ‘superhuman’ and ‘superhero’ were quickly dismissed from the lexicon of serious discussion. Those phrases carried too much of a silly pop-culture connotation. The more prestigious news shows began calling the unexplained condition ‘Hyper Humanity.’ A clever writer altered the expression to Hyper Sapien and it stuck.)

The most infamous Hyper Sapien was the Outlaw. He had defeated dozens of masked gunmen within the close confines of a clogged interstate, leapt onto a streaking helicopter, faced down the Chemist, and engineered a massacre by jumping forty feet into the air. Plus a bunch of other stuff the grainy video couldn’t confirm. However, the Outlaw had been vaporized in an explosion trying to save a teenage girl.

Or so it appeared.

I am the Outlaw. Very much alive.

But I wasn’t about to tell the media this. The Outlaw would stay hidden in the shadows for as long as he could.

That left a host of unidentified shadowy characters that were more…reticent in their use of special abilities. One of the host, the most charismatic and vocal, planted his throne in Compton and daily held sway over the news channels. But where were the rest?

Earth wouldn’t sleep soundly until that question was answered.

Fifteen minutes after jumping off Home Depot, I was zipping through downtown Los Angeles on my electric motorcycle, wearing a jacket and helmet over the Outlaw getup.

“What’s Corporal Turner doing now?” Samantha asked through the headset. We were miles apart, traveling in different directions.

“Still on the roof,” Puck answered.

I grinned. “Might be crying. Poor guy.”

“Whatever. He’s a big boy. In the Army. He can handle it. He better, or I’m going to hunt him down.”

“Find me the Chemist, Puck,” I said. “I have a promise to keep. Get me in there.”

Puck sighed in frustration. I could hear him typing. “I know, I’m trying, I’m trying. One of these days.”

“Good bye, weirdos,” I yawned and I turned off the headset. PuckDaddy would track my phone and regularly report my position to Samantha. They’d grown increasingly paranoid and protective, which felt…nice, I guess. Most of the time.

My bike was running low on energy. It ran fast and silent, but it also murdered the battery. I charged it only two days ago. My house was too far away, so I pulled into a massive mid-city storage building and walked the bike to the large and lonely units in the back.

The Outlaw’s hideout was an industrial storage unit. Classy!

I rolled up the large metal door and pushed the bike in.

Natalie North’s voice pierced the darkness. “I
knew
it!” she cried. I almost fell over in surprise.

Natalie, America’s Princess, one of the most sought-after celebrities on the planet, and also one of its highest paid movie stars, was sitting on the Outlaw’s bed. She looked astonished. And furious.

“I knew it!” She swung off the bed and stormed towards me.

“Hi Natalie…” I offered, backpedaling.

“Don’t even
Hi Natalie
me!” she seethed. She pushed me out of the unit and into the hallway. “I could
kill
you! I cried for weeks. Weeks! And all you had to do was text me. Just once!”

“You’re right-”

“Shut up!” She hit me in the shoulder with a tiny fist, and she winced. “I watched you die. You and the pretty blond girl. We
all
watched you die. I cried on live television. You knew I was mourning for you!”

My whole body winced at the mention of the pretty blond girl. Hannah. I’d been so close to reaching her, but the fire got there first. Sometimes I still felt like I was falling. “I’m really sorry-”

“Shut up again! It’s been months, and you didn’t bother to message me?” Big tears were rolling over her cheekbones. “I wouldn’t have told anyone!” She hit me again. “You know you can trust me.”

“I know,” I said lamely.

“I couldn’t come down here. I tried. So many times, but I couldn’t come say goodbye. I was still holding out hope. Like everyone.” She jabbed me with a finger. “So today I decide to come down, and what do you know!?” she shouted. “It looks recently used!”

Her voice was echoing down the metal hallways. I dropped the helmet, scooped her up before she could protest, and carried her inside. She didn’t fight me. I balanced her with one arm so I could haul down the rolling door, and then I sat on the bed. She looked up at me.

“I’m sorry,” I said simply, quietly.

“I forgive you,” she sniffed. “And you can kiss me if you want.”

“I’m in love with someone else. If it’s any consolation, you’re even prettier than I remember.”

“Does she love you back?”

“No,” I sighed. “I really am sorry, Natalie. I wanted to tell you. But I thought the Outlaw might be gone for good. And his death would be a…natural goodbye. I’ve missed you very much.”

“Liar.”

“No, I really did. You were the Outlaw’s only friend for a long time.”

“The Outlaw has other friends now?” she asked. “The individuals in the videos? The Hyper Sapiens?”

“Yes. Some of them.”

“I’m so glad you’re back,” she whispered. “I thought you died. I’ve been so scared.”

We sat in silence for a long time. I was exhausted. The only light came from a table lamp. Eventually she said, “Los Angeles feels foreign now.”

“Aren’t you making a movie in Canada this summer?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “You keep up with me, even though you’re dead?”

“I follow you on Twitter.”

“You’re all we discuss on set. Well, you and the others. The whole Compton debacle,” she said.

I stifled a yawn. “Are you done filming?”

“No, I fly back in four days. The director gave me a week off. I’d been shooting for 35 days straight.”

“Why’d you come back?”

“Actually,” she said with an embarrassed smile. “Keep this a secret…”

“Okay.”

“I’m dating someone here.”

“Oh! That’s great!”

“I think so!” she beamed. “But the press doesn’t know. So hush.”

“I guess I really shouldn’t be feeling jealous,” I mused.

“No, please do. I’m only dating him because I can’t have you.”

“Who is he?”

“That was a terrible thing for me to say,” she said, chewing on her lip. “He’s a good man, and I’m hopelessly fond of him.”

“I probably don’t know him, huh? I’m not very good with celebrities.”

“You know him,” she nodded.

“Is he in your movie now?”

“No,” she grinned. “He’s Isaac Anderson.”

“Who? Isaac Anderson? …wait, the
FBI
guy??” I cried and stood up, almost tossing her onto the floor.

“Yes.”

“The guy that’s trying to
arrest
me??”

“No,” she reminded me. “You’re dead.”

“Oh…yeah. Right.”

“Silly.”

“Anderson is a handsome guy, if I remember correctly.”

She nodded and said, “The handsomest. And he’s very nice. And kind. And sweet. And good. And he mourned the Outlaw’s demise.”

“Did he?”

“He did. He was a big fan.”

I protested, “Still, I don’t think you should be dating the FBI guy.”

“You’re in love with someone else, Outlaw,” she glared at me. “I mooned over you for seven months, and then grieved for another two. You had your chance. And you were dead.”

“How did you two end up together?”

She shrugged and said, “He called me and asked me.”

“Just like that?” I asked. Dumbfounding! Impossible!

“Just like that.”

“It’s not that easy,” I shook my head, and plugged in my bike. Night had fallen and I needed to get home.

“Have you tried? With the girl you love? Asking her?”

I took a long time replying. The truth was scalding. “No.”

“Then you are a fool.” She smiled.

“I know.”

“You should ask her.”

“I know.”

“Tonight,” she pressed.

“Okay. I will.”

And I was.

Katie Lopez is changing, the way people do when they grow up. She’s just doing it…better.

Unless something drastic intervenes, Katie will be one of our school’s valedictorians. Her intelligence and superior work-ethic has been obvious to everyone except her for years. She’s starting to realize it, though, and enjoy the reputation it provides. Instead of being the sweet, smart, cute, kind, timid girl that studies because she’s terrified of failure, she’s grown into the sweet, smart, hot, kind, confident girl that studies because she enjoys being the best at something.

Confidence. That’s the main thing that’s changed about her. And it’s crazy sexy.

She’s still faithful to a fault, and remains friends with her odd collection of boys despite transforming into a high school goddess (in my opinion). She’s been in the news twice for getting caught in the crossfire of the Outlaw’s many violent detractors, and she’s still humble despite the accolades given to her by the media.

She brings chocolate to school because she knows I crave it. She also keeps her room stocked with Hersey Kisses. During football season she wears a jersey with my number on it. Before games she cooks dinner for me and our friends. She was at my mother’s funeral and continues to pray for my father. She used to scratch my back before things grew too weird between us. When I’m sick she takes care of me. She tutors me in Spanish, but I can barely concentrate with her there. I have a disease that causes lethal headaches, but Katie holds my hand and protects me from the pain, though she doesn’t fully understand this, and I’m not exactly sure how it works either.

Her hair is thick and long and brown and she’s never dyed it. She has a wholesome, heart-shaped face. Her eyes are brown or hazel, depending on the light. Her smile is natural and easy, and her lips curl and her cute nose wrinkles. She was born to a beautiful Latina mother, and her skin is a light tan all year long. She is trim and athletic, light on her feet, and a natural dancer.

I love her beyond words. I’m drawn to her the way I’m drawn to oxygen.

At 10:30pm, I finally reached her apartment. Her bedroom has sliding glass doors that open onto the rear lawn of her building. I stood there until 10:36pm to calm my racing pulse, watching silhouettes of movements through her lacy curtains. From 10:37pm until 10:39pm I forgot to breathe. At 10:41pm I raised my trembling fist to knock on the door…

My phone buzzed. Or the Outlaw’s phone buzzed. I almost had a heart attack. Puck messaged me.

>> OUTLAW!!! Y R U @ KATIES HOUSE?!?! R U GONNA TELL HER UR INTO HER?!?! THIS IS HUGE!!!!!!!!

Growling, I powered off the phone and tapped on her door with my finger.

The prettiest girl on earth cautiously peered through a slit in the curtains, and then slid the door aside. Her laptop was open on her bed and indie pop music filled the room. As usual, she smelled like flowers. She was wearing the shorts and nightshirt combination she used for pajamas, which bordered on being inappropriate attire for welcoming late-night male suitors. Two years ago the outfit looked harmless. Now, it was scandalous.

“Hi handsome! You’re here late.” She smiled and I stepped inside. “I think you’ve grown again, Chase. You’re taller and broader. I’m working on my Stanford essay, and - Oh! You brought me Godetia!”

I held out the sprig of lavender and carmine flowers that I knew she loved. She took it, but I didn’t let go.

“Katie I love you,” I said. Her hand froze, our fingers touching, the petals near her chin. Her eyes were wide and shining like the sun. One song ended and another began while we watched each other. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time. At least a year. Maybe my whole life.”

She took a deep breath and tried to speak but no words came out.

“I know this is a bad time,” I continued.

“Why?”

“And I know you’re dating someone else, and I know that he’s very sick in the hospital. But there hasn’t been a good time to tell you the past twelve months.”