CHAPTER 57
IRIDIUM
For a hero, there is no acceptable shade of gray. There are only shades of justice. Black, and white.
Captain Colossal, Squadron member for New York Metropolis
After a day and a night of being handcuffed to the wall of her cell, Iridium watched the door roll back to reveal two Containment officers. “Clean her up,” the man told the woman. “Get the blood off. There are cameras out there.”
“Who cares about some rabid?” the woman muttered, scrubbing at Iridium’s face and neck with a sanitary cloth.
“That Shadow bitch called the press in,” said the Containment officer. “Can you believe that shit?”
Iridium blinked. Jet was holding a press conference?
She didn’t know why she was surprised … of course Jet would be selling herself. Branding. The new Hero of New Chicago, protector of average rapists against big bad rabids.
The Containment officer threw a pair of prison blues at Iridium’s feet. “When you’re released from the cuffs, you’ll change. Then you’ll be prepped for transport to your cell at Blackbird.”
“Jail?” Iridium said, stunned. She composed herself in the next second, so they wouldn’t know how shocked she was that she wasn’t just going upstairs to have holes poked in her brain for the rest of her natural life.
“Better than you deserve,” said the male officer The door swished shut. A moment later, Iridium’s cuffs released. She dropped her arms, her muscles crying.
After she’d put on the rough cotton inmate’s uniform, the door opened again.
“Hey!” Iridium yelled. “I’m not dressed!”
Instead of the Containment team, Jet stood in the opening.
Iridium curled her lip back. “You.”
“I don’t have much time,” Jet said. “I had your guards paged away to deal with the crowd outside, but they’ll be back.”
“Come down here to gloat over a job well done?” Iridium said, zipping the jumpsuit over her bra.
“Callie …” Jet pressed her hands over her face. “Why’d it have to be this way? Why couldn’t you have done the right thing?”
“See, Jet,” Iridium said, crossing her arms, “I did do the right thing. I know it, because all the time I’ve been in this cell, I haven’t felt one thin drop of regret for Paul Collins.”
“You just proved everyone right,” Jet said. “You proved you’re like your father.”
“Mutual,” said Iridium. “You proved everyone right too.”
Jet blinked behind her goggles. “Excuse me?”
“You proved that you’re a lapdog who parrots the party line no matter what. Who sells out her friends for TV ratings and who will never, ever be able to grow a backbone and think for herself.” Iridium stepped closer to Jet, feeling her power grow hot inside her. “And that’s why I’m not sorry about this. At all.”
“You’re wrong …” Jet started, but Iridium made her move.
She strobed Jet in the face, the other girl’s goggles flying clean off her head from the force of the blast. Jet crumpled, groaning, red outlines on her cheeks and forehead where the goggles had been.
“I’m not like my father,” Iridium whispered. “I’m better than him. You’ll never catch me, Joannie.”
“You … can’t … do this,” Jet groaned.
“Oh, I think I can. I think a pack of innocent reporters standing around will dissuade the Squadron from any hasty action,” Iridium said as the alarms began to whoop.
“Iri,” Jet called after her, but Iridium ignored her.
She stepped out of her cell.
This was the moment. If Jet was quick, tough, and smart like they’d tried to teach her, all she had to do was send a creeper. Iridium was exhausted and surrounded by hostile extrahumans. Jet had her chance.
The darkness never came.
Iridium turned back, once. “That’s what I thought. Be seeing you, Jet.”
Iridium shut the door on her former friend and walked toward the light.