Feeling that I was onto something (but unsure of what it was), I jumped up, intent on locating Matt Kroner. It was a long shot, no doubt, but I didn’t have a lot of options or ideas (nor, at that juncture, a lot to lose).
Thankfully, running Kroner down wasn’t particularly difficult; it just took me calling one of the newspapers where he freelanced and asking how to get in touch with him about his photos. Finding out where he actually was, on the other hand, came as a bit of a shock: according to the newspaper, Kroner was in the hospital.
Chapter 85
It wasn’t visiting hours, so I turned invisible in order to slip past the nurse’s station in the intensive care unit where Kroner was being treated. Upon reaching his door, I phased and went inside.
Kroner’s hospital room wasn’t completely full of cards and flowers, but had a healthy complement of them – enough to indicate that he was a nice guy and well-liked. Looking at him, it occurred to me that he needed all the well-wishes he could get. From all appearances, Kroner was practically in a body cast.
There was a space for his face, holes for his ears, and the top of his noggin was exposed, but otherwise his head seemed encased in plaster. Likewise for his neck and torso, as well as most of his limbs. About the only thing not currently wrapped and immobilized by casting material was his left arm and right thigh. He’d obviously had a serious accident recently.
He couldn’t move his head, but he glanced in my direction as I made myself visible. His eyes went wide in fright, while panic and alarm surged in him with blazing speed.
“Easy, easy,” I muttered, trying to keep him calm. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
My words seemed to have something of the desired effect, as his trepidation began to subside and the fearful expression on his face was replaced by one of confusion.
“Jure nah him,” he almost whispered between clenched teeth. It took me a second to translate his statement as “You’re not him.” At the same time, I realized why he seemed to be having trouble speaking: his jaw was wired shut.
Before I could respond, I heard the doorknob being turned. I immediately went invisible and floated up into a corner of the room. A moment later, an attractive, middle-aged woman wearing a nurse’s uniform stepped in.
“Are you okay, Mr. Kroner?” the nurse asked as she approached his bedside.
Kroner didn’t respond. Instead, he simply looked at the spot where I’d been standing a few moments earlier, frowning in concentration.
“Mr. Kroner,” the nurse repeated, “is everything okay?”
This time, the question seemed to snap Kroner back to the present.
“Yeth,” he replied to the nurse. He then held up his left hand, revealing a nurse call button that I hadn’t noticed before. “Thorry. Athident.”
The nurse smiled. “No need to be sorry. The doctor said you might experience some muscle spasms, so if you accidentally hit the button a couple of times, it’s okay. Let me know if you need anything.”
She then turned and left. A moment later, I floated back down and became visible again.
Kroner gave me a bit of a smile. “Thorry. I–”
<Don’t worry about trying to speak,> I said telepathically, cutting him off as I mentally reached out. <We can just communicate like this, mind-to-mind.>
<Works for me,> he replied.
<Again, I apologize if I startled you, appearing and disappearing like I just did. I’m sure you weren’t expecting that.>
<Not that, specifically,> he corrected. <But if you’re hanging out with the likes of Indigo and Electra, it stands to reason that you have some level of super powers.>
<It’s a fair deduction,> I noted.
<As I was saying, though, sorry about the nurse. I panicked and hit the call button – thought you were the other guy. I was afraid you – I mean, he – had come back to finish the job.>
<Wait a minute!> I boomed, surprised. <My evil twin did this to you?>
<Yeah, this is his handiwork,> Kroner confirmed, mentally nodding. <So he’s your twin?>
<Not exactly; I just call him that. How’d you know that I wasn’t him?>
<His demeanor was worlds apart from yours. Hard. Callous. Indifferent. Of course, my opinion stems from the fact that he beat me to a pulp, so I might be biased.>
<But why would he do this to you?>
<Because I didn’t give him the photos from the party.>
<You mean the party that was held for Indigo and Nightmare?> I asked, using my grandfather’s superhero pseudonym.
<Yeah, he showed up at my apartment a few days ago. I initially thought he was you and let him in.>
<How’d he even know where to find you?> I asked.
<I gave my card out like candy at the party,> Kroner replied. <I was hoping to drum up some more business, maybe develop a high-end client list.>
I nodded but didn’t say anything immediately, as it had occurred to me after I asked my question that Jack might also have used his clairvoyant abilities to figure out where to find Kroner.
<Anyway,> he continued, <your evil twin said he wanted the pictures from the party. I asked, ‘What pictures?’ – meaning which specific photos – but he apparently thought I was being a wise guy and insinuating that no such pictures existed. Next thing I knew, he punched me in the face. After that, he asked again, and when he didn’t get the answer he wanted, he just went to town on me in the living room of my own apartment, slinging me around the place like I
