Swarm (11 page)

Nate realized he was dressed in a black jacket, and Ethan in a dingy khaki coat. Everyone else in the stadium was wearing either cop blue or fire red. Nate had sensed the tribal conflict from five blocks away, and the stands had self-organized into colored clumps as they filled.

If Glitch used her power in a situation like this, what would happen? Would an actual cop-versus-firefighter war break out? Or would everyone be unable to recognize their own tribe?

“Just watching the game,” he said mildly.

“No opinion at all?” the man goaded.

Ethan turned around. “Well, frankly, you guys are toast. The firefighters' wings, Rodney and Overland, have the best wrist shots in Cambria. They can dig pucks out in battles on the boards, and have enough speed to make your defense back off. Your guys are reacting rather than playing aggressive, which
is why, five minutes in, you've only had possession for a minute twenty-three and it's two shot attempts to zero.”

The four cops didn't say a word, and Ethan turned back to face the game with a bored sigh.

“Like I said, toast,” the voice finished.

As the silence behind them stretched out, Nate fought back a grin. Maybe it was Ethan who should go into coaching. Seemed like about 78 percent of sports was talking a good game of bullshit.

But when Nate's attention returned to the game, he found that the voice was right. The firefighters really were keeping the police on their heels.

“They're not in this section,” Ethan said.

“Maybe we should move.” Nate pointed at the big clump of blue off to their left.

Ethan sighed, but stood up and sidled toward the aisle.

Nate chose seats at the front of the swath of blue, so they could see the faces of the fans behind them.

“Perfect,” Ethan said, craning his neck around. “Nothing conspicuous about
this
.”

Nate didn't answer. It was tough for him here too. All that attention flashing overhead, just begging to be grabbed and twisted and
used
. But Nate had to watch it bounce around pointlessly on the ice.

What a waste, all that focus wrapped around a piece of rubber.

“Well, well, well” came a familiar voice from Nate's right. “I
thought
that was you guys.”

Nate looked up and found Detectives Fuentes and King making themselves at home in the seats beside Scam. The same cops who'd interviewed Scam after the bank robbery, and who'd followed up with Nate after the police station disaster.

“You two never struck me as hockey fans,” King said.

Before Ethan could launch into another discussion of the cops' wings, Nate said, “We support Cambria's first responders in all their civic endeavors.”

“Uh-huh,” Fuentes said, then leaned back to talk to the men in the row behind. “These two really been watching the game? Or do they look like they're up to something?”

The cops behind them shrugged, and one said, “Didn't really notice.”

“Didn't notice?” Fuentes pointed at Ethan. “But this guy here, this guy is
famous
. He's the kid in the bank video! You know, the one who talked smack to Jerry Laszlo's crew so bad that they all started shooting. And
this
guy,” he pointed to Nate, “was the guy he called afterward. Like he was his lawyer or something. I never even asked—
are
you a lawyer, kid?”

Nate nudged Ethan. “Get rid of them.”

“I don't know, detectives,” Ethan said, his voice slipping into a smooth, superior drawl. “If I had Internal Affairs all over my precinct house, I wouldn't be worried so much about who's got a law degree.”

“Wait,” Nate said. “What?”

Ethan smiled, the voice still rolling. “Just last week Detective King here had to testify in front of a grand jury. Not about herself, of course. She's
squeaky
. But that doesn't mean the rest of the force is clean.”

The horn sounded as the first period ended, and the crowd gave a ragged cheer. But the little zone around Ethan stayed dead silent. The cops behind them all stood up together and shuffled away, muttering about beer.

Fuentes himself was stunned into silence, but Detective King was drilling white-hot attention into Ethan.

“And did you hear this from your mother the DDA? Because grand jury proceedings are supposed to be
secret
.”

“Um, no,” Ethan croaked in his own voice, then went smooth again. “It was from a reporter at the
Herald
. Janice something. She's going to run with the story in a couple of days.”

The two detectives stared at Ethan, unblinking but uncertain.

“And now I think we need some hot dogs,” Nate said, dragging Ethan to his feet and down the row of empty seats. “Enjoy the game, detectives.”

Fuentes and King watched them go.

Ethan glared at Nate as they walked. “Nice job getting my mom in trouble. Why did I even listen to you?”

“You're right. We should have just walked away.”

Ethan swore. “You think they bought that stuff about the reporter?”

“It must be convincing, or the voice wouldn't have used it.” Nate's eyes swept the stadium. Now they
really
needed to find the two cops Ethan had bribed.

“I hate that Fuentes guy,” Ethan said. “At least I put a firecracker up his ass.”

“Yeah, great,” Nate said. “But if the Cambria cops are being investigated for corruption, this just got a lot worse. Or are you okay with your mom watching a surveillance tape of you committing bribery?”

Ethan froze. “Oh, crap. But it's not bribery if you just hand over blank paper, right?”

Nate shrugged. “Questions like that are generally left to a judge and jury.”

Ethan gawked at him.

“Just keep your eyes open, Ethan. I'll look for Glitch and Coin, and you look for those two cops. We need to find out if you're already screwed.”

KELSIE USUALLY LIKED HORROR MOVIES.

She liked the roller coaster of emotions. The queasy anticipation during the credits, the thrill of those first fake scares. Then the building dread as things got serious. Connecting with a good, focused crowd of movie fans was like living inside a story.

Which was great, depending on the story.

“It's not a slasher film, is it?” she asked Chizara. “I hate those.”

She didn't need any more challenges to her central nervous system. She was twitchy enough as it was.

“You're scared of blood?” Chizara looked over her shoulder at the audience. “Then why are we in the front row?”

“Because this is where real movie fans sit! People in the
back always have other stuff on their mind, like making out and snarking.” Kelsie gave a shudder. “But slasher fans . . . not my favorite crowd.”

Chizara looked at her with something like pity. Kelsie didn't like pity. It made her feel small. She'd fought against everyone's pity when Dad died. Losing him was bad enough.

“I think it's more like a thriller,” Chizara said. “And given that it was shot in Cambria, and about half this audience were extras in the movie, we'll probably all be laughing most of the time.”

“I'm okay with that.”

Kelsie could feel a thrum of expectation in the theater. No red carpet outside, only a couple of local reporters, and this “premiere” was in the afternoon, with regular movies showing tonight. It was a very low-budget film, as if any other kind of film would ever be shot in Cambria.

Still, it was sold out. She'd had to call on her friend Mikey to score the tickets.

“You think Glitch and her boy toy will really be here?” Chizara asked, twisting in her seat to survey the crowd behind them.

“Hopefully they're sleeping off last night's carnage.” Kelsie wasn't in the mood for a superpowered throwdown today.

Alone in her room at the Dish last night, she'd kept reminding herself that there was someone else in the building, even if she couldn't always remember his name. Plus, a bunch
of friends were just a phone call away. She wasn't on her own, not really.

Still, she hadn't slept much.

The lights dimmed, and Kelsie let herself be buoyed up by the rising anticipation.

This was the first time she'd been alone with Chizara. Of the other Zeroes, Chizara always seemed to be the most withdrawn, even a little wary of the rest of them. Like she wasn't sure superpowers were such a good idea.

Which was the opposite of what Kelsie had thought. Until last night.

The thing was, she trusted Chizara the most of all of them. Maybe it was because she was so careful with her power. At every step of creating the Dish, she'd worried about safety, and about whether Nate's “experiments” were going to hurt anyone.

There was also the connection Kelsie felt when she and Chizara ran the Dish's music and lights together. The rush of guiding the crowd through its ups and downs, of riding that beast, was shared between them, wordless and intense.

Kelsie never related to people very well one-on-one. But with Chizara it all happened through the crowd itself.

It was almost like three kids daring each other into bigger and braver dares—two of the kids were Kelsie and Chizara, and the other was something huge, the sum of all the people on the dance floor. Between them they could turn a room into an oasis of pure dancing bliss.

“Emergency exit's right over there,” Chizara said, pointing. “You know, in case Glitch does show, and I have to shut down the lights.”

“I'll make sure to stay close to you,” Kelsie said. “But I hope they've got better things to do today.”

Chizara turned around again, searching the faces of the crowd. “I don't know. Last night looked pretty much like they thought messing with
dolls
was the best thing ever.”

Kelsie thought back to the summer, to clambering with Ethan through that building full of drug-fueled highs and lows, her dad wretched in the middle of it. “It's like addiction. It eats away at people until all the good stuff is gone.”

Dad had always worried that Kelsie would fall into drugs, but he shouldn't have. She'd felt how lonely and isolating a life like that could be.

Besides, if she was feeling low or scared, she only had to find a happy crowd to take her away. That's why she loved dancing, malls on holidays, school bus trips, and baseball games.

“Maybe.” Chizara sounded uncertain. “When I crash things with my power . . . sometimes I don't want to come back from that.”

“Me too. With dancing.”

Chizara hesitated. “So, you know how Nate says we should text everyone if we see Glitch and Coin?”

“Yeah?”

“We do that,” Chizara said. “Right after we beat them to death.”

Kelsie almost laughed.

“Kidding.” Chizara shrugged. “Sort of.”

“So you don't think Glitch and Coin are good people who just haven't seen the light?” Kelsie said, mockingly.

“Nate's light? Doubt it.” Chizara grinned. “I think they're jerks who don't give a damn about anyone, dolls or otherwise.”

Kelsie nodded. None of the others had felt how good the crowd had been last night, how ready to pop. But then those two had turned it all into a nightmare.

For a moment Kelsie let their anger spread out into the expectant crowd. And somewhere a few rows back, someone called out, “Hey, jerk! That's my seat!”

Kelsie dragged her rage back in, quashing it as the opening credits started to roll. She took deep breaths until she was back in control.

Chizara looked at her.

“Just letting off steam,” Kelsie said.

“That must be nice,” Chizara said. “When you're angry, you can make the world angry.”

“I don't always let out what I feel.” Not since her dad had died. “I have to be careful.”

“As long as you don't let Nate push you around.” Chizara's voice sank to a whisper as the film began.

“But pushing people around is
his
superpower.” Kelsie stifled her laugh.

Nate could be intimidating. It was good to have Chizara in the group. Someone strong enough to stand up to him.

Of course, Chizara's power had forced her to be strong. While they were building the Dish's Faraday cage, she'd talked about how technology was pins and needles to her. Like having a thousand itches and she couldn't scratch any of them.

The movie was a little slow to begin, following some girl on what looked like a normal day—walking her dog, getting money out, shopping. The only scary part was that the camera was stalking the girl, watching from behind bushes, or pulling back out of sight when she turned around.

“Great. Shaky cam,” Kelsie whispered.

Chizara's grin shone in the light from the screen. “Thought you said the front row was awesome!”

Kelsie didn't answer. She didn't mind shaky cam herself, but there were always people in a crowd who got nauseated. Plus, it was jarring seeing the familiar streets of Cambria through the stalker-cam lens.