I know it’s crazy, but I try calling my house. Maybe if I wish for it enough, Mom will be home and fine. As I pull out my phone to dial, the screen flickers, then goes dark.
Stupid battery. I reach into the center console and pull Mom’s cell phone off the charger. There’s a notice on her lock screen. Two missed calls and three text messages from Dr. Harwood.
Did Kenna reach you? She sounded worried.
Where are you?
The scarlet phoenix flies at dawn.
What the hell? Dr. Harwood has always been a bit odd, but that last text is beyond weird. I don’t have the time or energy to wonder at his cryptic message.
I swipe my finger across the screen so I can call home, but despite the full charge, Mom’s phone flickers and goes dead too.
More weird.
Jeremy’s computer starts beeping. He enters a few keystrokes and curses.
“What?” I ask nervously.
“They put out an APB.” He looks up at Rebel, his face white. “Wait, no, it’s more than that. Your father has issued a new directive.”
Rebel scowls and grabs the laptop out of his hands. She reads the memo on Jeremy’s computer.
“‘Tier Red Protocol in Effect: All members of SHPD and ESF are hereby called to active duty. Report to headquarters for assignment. Use highest levels of caution. Villains to be approached with utmost prejudice.’”
“ESF?” Dante asks.
Jeremy explains, “Elite Superhero Force. They’re like the Navy SEALs, Army Rangers, and police SWAT team all rolled into one.”
Draven’s hand clenches into a fist.
That’s great. That’s just…great.
“‘Pursuit of the villains and traitors who compromised the ESH Labs facility tonight must be unrelenting,’” Rebel continues reading. “‘They are to be found and apprehended at any cost.’”
A shiver of fear skitters down my spine.
“Among the wanted are three known offenders—villains Dante Cole, Draven Cole, and Nitro Willoughby. Also on the run are villain sympathizers Kenna Swift and Rebel Malone. All are to be treated with extreme prejudice under assumption of deadly intent. All League resources will be dedicated to this manhunt until further notice. “
Rebel chokes on a sob. I reach for her hand and for something to say, but there’s nothing I can tell her that will make this better. I mean, it’s one thing to know that your dad is a genocidal asshole, but it’s another to know he’s sending elite forces to apprehend, his own daughter.
I’m still searching for the right words when the computer emits an ear-splitting beep in a sequence that sounds like old-school Morse code.
Jeremy grabs for his laptop. “No!” he shouts, typing furiously. “No, no, no.”
“What?” At this point I’m afraid to hear the answer.
“Come on, baby,” Jeremy says to his computer, “don’t do this to me. Don’t—shit!”
The laptop lets out one last beep, then goes black. Smoke puffs out from the vent in the back.
“That doesn’t look good, mate,” Nitro says.
“Thanks, Admiral Obvious. They just burned my laptop.”
“They can do that?” Dante asks.
“They can if they send enough malicious packets to overwhelm my hard drive while disabling the cooling system at the same time.” He slams the lid shut and throws the laptop carelessly into the back of the van. “Irreparable. They must have found my bug. There’s no other reason to come after me so hard.”
“So where does that leave us?” I ask.
“Screwed,” Draven and Rebel say at the same time.
“Not entirely,” Jeremy says. “They can’t have found my rootkit, not this fast, which means it’s still scanning for details about the secret location.”
“But can you access the program?” My stomach clenches.
He smiles grimly. “All I need is a secure Internet portal and a computer that doesn’t suck.”
“We’ll find you one,” Draven promises.
“First we need to ditch the van,” Dante says.
“For sure,” Nitro agrees. “They’ll be looking for it.”
“And they’ll be able to access the city closed-circuit cameras to find it,” Jeremy adds.
“If they can access cameras,” I say, “then can they see us? Wherever we go?”
He nods ominously.
We sit in stunned silence for several moments as we try to assimilate our new identities as public enemies number one. This must be what Draven, Dante, and Nitro feel like all the time. It’s a terrifying sensation that will turn me into a whimpering mess if I dwell on it too much.
So I focus on the most immediate problem. The superheroes are searching for us and we need to get to safety. The only problem? How are we supposed to do that when every law enforcement agency in the state has our names and descriptions?
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” I say. “I’m going to run into this store and get whatever I can find to disguise our appearances.”
“No,” Jeremy interrupts before I can reach for the door handle. “I should go. I wasn’t on the APB list, probably because I wasn’t caught on camera tonight.”