Around the rear, Daniel found the door. It was standing ajar, and a quick glance inside revealed a spiral stairwell that led straight down into blackness.
Daniel glanced up just in time to avoid the cane blow aimed at his head. He brought his hands up and braced himself as Herman lunged out of the dark. The old man was frail, but he possessed the strength of someone who had nothing to lose. He clawed at Daniel’s face, and threw his weight into him, nearly knocking both of them over the railing.
But Daniel kept his balance, while Herman’s lunge had been wild, driven by insanity. Daniel slid to one side as he shoved Herman into the railing. The railing caught the old man in the stomach, and Herman let out a wheezing cough as he slid to his knees. He tumbled toward the walkway’s edge, his cane clattering off the side and shattering on the ground far below.
And Daniel caught him. With one hand on the railing and the other on Herman’s jacket, he stopped the old man from rolling off the ledge. Slowly, and with every bit of strength he could muster in his skinny frame, Daniel hauled Herman onto the walkway. Then the two of them lay there—Daniel with his back up against the spire, and Herman just inches from the edge.
The old man looked up at Daniel, exhausted. The fight was over; what little strength he had left was spent.
“You may find it hard to believe …,” Herman wheezed, “but I’m glad you’re not dead.”
“It’s over, Herman,” said Daniel. “The school’s being evacuated. It won’t be like St. Alban’s.”
Herman laughed. A sickly, bubbling laugh. He spit out a glob of something dark onto his jacket front.
“It’s not over!” he said. “It’s just beginning. When the Witch Fire comes, I wonder if we will survive.”
Herman pulled himself up on one elbow, even though the effort was obviously painful. He clutched at his chest, at the wound the Witch Fire pendant had left him with.
“Will we rise as gods born out of the meteor’s destruction? Two new gods, at each others’ throats for the next hundred years because you won’t do what needs to be done.”
Herman grinned.
“Or you can just give me a little shove over the side. It’s only fair. If I die, you can have all the power to yourself. Assuming you don’t die in the fire first. Assuming you’re as strong as good old Johnny was.”
“I won’t do it,” said Daniel. “And we’re not staying here.”
“You will!” cried Herman. “Because I will not move from this spot. I will not hide from the fire this time! So, if you don’t kill me, there’s no telling what I’ll do. What will I do with all that power, Daniel?”
For a moment, only for a moment, the sheen of insanity and rage fell away from the old man’s face, and Daniel saw something else in his eyes—sorrow. Then Daniel remembered that Herman had been just a boy when this had started, all those years ago. Like Daniel had been when he’d come to Noble’s Green. Just a boy.
Something Herman had once said came back to Daniel, though it had been spoken in a very different context.
It’s not fair, really, Herman had said. The boy dreams his whole life of being Johnny Noble, only to wake up one day alone in the knowledge that he is something else entirely. He’s quite the opposite. He’s the Shroud.
Daniel hadn’t properly understood what the old man had meant, or who he’d really been talking about, until that very moment.
Above them, the heavens glowed. In the clouds, there were shadows dancing behind the flashes of green lightning. Whatever was on its way, it would be here soon. Looking out over the school, Daniel saw Drake’s fires burning themselves out; he saw the lights of the town twinkling in the distance. And something else, familiar silhouettes coming this way.
“I won’t make it easy for you,” said Herman. “Either have the guts to kill me now or I win. There’s no other way.”
Daniel placed a foot on the old man’s chest.
“You’re wrong, Herman. There’s always another way,” Daniel said. Then he called out into the night, “Catch!”
With that, he kicked Herman off the platform … and into Michael’s waiting arms.
“Got him!” shouted Michael as he soared past. And there was Eric, with Mollie right behind. Eric had promised he’d come back for him, and Eric always kept his promises.
Eric snatched Daniel up from the platform and took off into the air.
“Now what do I do with Plunkett?” called Michael.
“Get him far away from here!” shouted Daniel. “Preferably to a jail!”
Michael nodded and sped off toward the town, Herman in his arms. The old man was either laughing or crying, Daniel couldn’t be sure which.
“Let’s round up the others and get out of here,” said Eric as he landed in the courtyard with Mollie close behind.
Louisa, Rose, Simon, Rohan, and Johnny were waiting for them twenty feet from the gate. Simon was holding his arm close to his chest, and Daniel could see blood soaking through his sleeve; Louisa had a fat lip. His friends were dirty and beat-up, but they were still standing. The Nobles were nowhere in sight, and it looked like the Supers had won round two.
Of everyone, Johnny looked the worst off. He’d recovered much of his strength, but was still several shades too pale. Whatever he’d done to save Daniel had cost him.
“Everyone else is out,” said Johnny. “But when your friends realized what you were up to, they wouldn’t leave without you—”
Johnny’s words were swallowed by the massive rumble above their heads. A flash of light lit the heavens, followed this time by a sharp crack of thunder. The clouds parted to reveal a streak of green fire heading right toward them. It hurtled through the sky, burning brighter and brighter as it drew near. They wouldn’t make it out in time. No one was that fast except …
“Mollie, run!” At least she could save herself.
But she didn’t run. Instead, he felt her fingers entwine with his.
Daniel closed his eyes. They had seconds.
“It’s Johnny!” someone shouted, and Daniel opened his eyes to see that Johnny was flying straight for the meteor. It was too bright to look at directly, so Daniel had trouble seeing what happened next. Johnny’s shadow against the fiery meteor burned afterimages into Daniel’s eyes.
“It’s slowing down,” said Rohan. “Wait … Where’s Eric?”
Eric was missing too.
Daniel had never in his life been quicker than Mollie Lee, but in that instant, perhaps because he knew what she was going to do even before she did, he was faster. She started to go after Eric, but Daniel had her by the arm.
In that moment, the irrational, selfish part of Daniel—the part that needed Mollie—held on to her and wouldn’t let go.
“You can’t help them,” said Daniel. Mollie was fast, but she wasn’t strong, and she wasn’t invulnerable like Johnny and Eric. She’d be burned alive before she even touched the meteor. After a second’s struggle, Mollie accepted the truth of it, and arm in arm, they watched the sky explode.
Both Johnny and Eric had disappeared in the meteor’s fiery glare. It kept falling, but it had changed course. As Daniel and his friends watched helplessly, the hurtling hunk of space rock veered away from the earth and, like a slingshot, ricocheted back up into the sky. Whoever or whatever had sent the meteor was about to get it back.
No one said anything until Rohan whispered to Daniel and Mollie.
“But that meteor rock is the same stuff the Shroud’s pendant was made out of, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yeah,” said Daniel. “I think so.”
“So when Johnny and Eric touch it,” said Rohan, “what’ll happen?”
Rohan was right. Johnny and Eric had taken off as supermen, but they wouldn’t stay that way.
“Their powers will start to disappear; they’ll get weaker and weaker until …”
Realization dawned on them all. Eric and Johnny weren’t coming back.
“Rohan,” said Daniel, “search the sky. Tell us what you see.?
??
Rohan took off his glasses and squinted up into the night. He’d once mentioned to Daniel that he could see the footprints the astronauts had left on the moon. It was time to put that power to the ultimate test.
“There,” he said, pointing up at the sky. “Something’s falling. Something small.”
Now Daniel let go of Mollie.
“Go!” he shouted.
“Follow that line of trees,” Rohan was saying as he pointed. “And then straight up!”
Mollie disappeared in a flash and a gust of wind.
It was only seconds before she reappeared overhead with Eric in her arms. She was struggling to hold on to his limp body, but she didn’t let him go until they’d landed, more or less safely, on the ground.
“Is he alive?” asked Rohan as they all rushed to her side.
Daniel knelt down next to his friend and put his ear to Eric’s chest. What had remained of Eric’s clothing had been entirely burned off, along with most of his hair, and his skin was a nasty shade of red, as if he’d been lying in the sun for days. But he was breathing, and his heartbeat was strong.
“He’s alive,” said Daniel. Then, to Mollie, he said, “That was amazing.”
Mollie grinned back at him. “Yeah, it was.”
Daniel looked around at the faces of his friends.
“We all accounted for?”
“Everyone except Johnny,” said Rohan, still watching the stars. “I don’t see him.”
The Witch Fire Comet had moved on, either retreating or just following whatever course it sailed, to whatever mysterious purpose. If Herman had been right, and that thing up there really was hostile, then the Supers had just sent it a very clear message.
Don’t mess with planet earth.
But most importantly, Herman’s plan had failed, and Daniel’s friends were all safe.
Except Johnny Noble was gone.
Epilogue
Faced with evidence supplied by several young witnesses, ex–academy students Drake Masterson, Hunter Daniels, Lester Muttles, and Janey Levine pleaded guilty to the attacks on Mr. Lemon’s soda shop and Noble High School. Several of them also turned state’s evidence and implicated Herman Plunkett in the burning of his own estate.
Along with recently captured ex-convicts Lawrence Jones and Hector Martin, Herman Plunkett was found guilty on counts of arson, attempted murder, and conspiracy.
While waiting for his sentence, Plunkett was admitted to Mercy General and kept there under armed guard, as he was reportedly suffering from a rare terminal cancer and expected to die in a matter of weeks.
After journalists uncovered sizable contributions from Plunkett to the mayor’s political campaign, the mayor chose to resign rather than stand for reelection.
The Parmar family, having been wrongly convicted of terrorism in the press and the court of public opinion, was offered apologies by the editorial boards of the major papers. In response, the Parmars’ son, Rohan, wrote his own editorial critiquing not only the content of the apologies, which he felt were too weak by far, but also the grammar.
Control of Plunkett Industries was handed back to Theo Plunkett Sr. The day of the announcement, his son, Theo Jr., bought himself a brand-new Lamborghini Veneno to celebrate.
And the Noble Academy for the Gifted was repaired and reopened with a new mission statement—to be a place of learning devoted to integrating students both with powers and without.
It was a day in early November, and two friends were getting off the bus.
“She not meeting you today?” asked Eric.
“Nah,” said Daniel. “She’s got band practice. She’s competing with Rohan for first chair.”
“You poor guy.”
“Hey, it’s not like we need to spend every minute together. I like a little space.”
“Sure,” said Eric, smirking. “Who would want to spend all their time making out with the prettiest girl in school? Awful.”
“Better not let Louisa hear you say that,” said Daniel.
“I meant next to her, of course!” said Eric, blushing. “That always goes without saying! It’s just a good thing she doesn’t have super-hearing. I’d be a dead man.”
“Tell me about it.”
Daniel chuckled at his friend’s awkwardness, but he could sympathize. They were both trying to navigate unfamiliar territory—first-girlfriend territory—without hitting an iceberg.
“So, you finish Emerson’s project yet?” asked Daniel, changing the subject to something a little less treacherous.
“You kidding? Twenty pages on an important historical figure? I have never written twenty pages on anything. Ever. In my life! I mean, who has twenty pages worth of things to say about anything?”
“They’re called writers, and they make these things called books,” said Daniel.
“Whatever,” said Eric. “Emerson’s evil.”
As they walked along Elm, the wind picked up and Eric pulled his jacket close around him, shivering against the chill air. Daniel had remembered to wear a scarf that morning—the academy jackets were not very warm—but Daniel had had fourteen years to get used to the cold. Eric had only had about three months. And though his hair had grown back, it was still so short as to be little use against the chill.
Most of the trees along this street were already bare, and Daniel and Eric passed by a yard where neighborhood kids were raking the fallen leaves into piles and then jumping in. Daniel felt a small pang of jealousy. If he and his friends tried that, someone would call the cops and complain that teenagers were messing up someone’s lawn. Fourteen was a brutal age.
“So,” said Eric, “who are you writing your biography paper on? I was going to do Lincoln, but half the class is doing him.”
Daniel hesitated. He had a person in mind, but he wasn’t sure how Eric would take it.
“I’m thinking of writing about Johnny,” he said.
Eric stopped walking. “Really? Wow, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I don’t know if Emerson will go for it, but I figure there was no more important person in this town’s history, at least.”
“Oh, I can think of one,” said Eric, winking at Daniel.
“Get real.”
“It’s going to be hard to find stuff on Johnny, though,” said Eric. “I heard all sorts of people have been trying to piece together what he was doing all those years and no one’s been able to.”
“Johnny told me things,” said Daniel. “He dropped hints about where he’d been. He fought in World War II, you know.”
“Wow,” said Eric. “Just like in the comics.”
Daniel shook his head. “No, not like in the comics. He wasn’t dressed up in tights and a mask. He was a regular enlisted soldier. I’m a detective. I figured I’ll start there and see where it takes me.”
“Cool,” said Eric. “On second thought, I think I will do Lincoln. With everyone else doing him, someone’s bound to let me copy.”
The wind was really getting cold now, but Daniel didn’t mind. Someone in the neighborhood had a fire going, and the crisp autumn air smelled of woodsmoke. He loved this time of year.
When Daniel’s home came into view, Eric pointed and said, “Look.”
Daniel thought at first that his friend was pointing at his house, and immediately worried that Georgie had punched another hole in the wall. But Eric wasn’t pointing at the house; he was pointing above it.
There were shapes in the distance. Three figures playing in the sky near Mount Noble.
“Michael?” Daniel asked.
“Gotta be,” answered Eric. “Probably Martin and Sasha too.”
Eric just stood there and stared, watching the three figures twirl and dive through the air. They played for a few more minutes and then sped away, off to soar through a different patch of sky.
Daniel knew exactly what Eric was feeling, because whenever he saw those shapes in the sky, he felt it too. He had ever since he’d moved to Noble’s Green. It was hard not to
envy freedom like that.
“You miss it,” said Daniel. He was stating the obvious, but he honestly didn’t know what else to say.
Eric nodded. “I do. I really do. And you know the worst part? Sometimes I wake up in the morning, and for a few seconds I forget. I think that I can just step outside and reach up toward the clouds and … Then I remember all the things that I can’t do anymore, and it’s like losing them all over again.” He tore his eyes away from the sky and turned to Daniel. “But I don’t regret what I did. Not even a little.”
Daniel smiled. “You were a hero.”
“So were you. So were a lot of people that night, especially Johnny. We can be proud of that.”
Eric put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. There was a time when Daniel would’ve winced under the strength of Eric’s vise-like grip. Now it was just like any other.
“Besides,” said Eric, “who’s to say our hero days are over?”
“What? No way. Herman’s locked up and probably won’t last the month. And the Nobles are in a heap of trouble.”
“C’mon. This is Noble’s Green! Weirdest Town on Earth.”
“I think you got the slogan wrong.”
“You might be needed again, Sherlock,” said Eric. “And when you are, you’ll need a Watson.”
Eric stood back and pretended to hook his thumbs through imaginary suspenders. “I’m very good at asking you to explain stuff.”
Daniel laughed and shook his head. The last thing he wanted was more excitement. The mystery, he loved; it was the danger he could do without.
“Sorry, but I’m done,” said Daniel. “Finished.”
“Says you,” said Eric. “Anyway, I better get going. I have a paper not to write.”
Daniel waved. “See you tomorrow.”
He watched Eric go as his friend turned off Elm toward Briarwood, where his own house was waiting for him. It took Eric an extra half hour to get home when he got off at Daniel’s bus stop, but he always did it anyway. He said it was because he liked to walk.
Then Daniel hoisted his book bag over his shoulder, took a deep breath of the bracing autumn air, and went home.