James stared out the window, lost in thought. The rain was heavier now, almost a downpour.
He never saw the semi cross the median.
He glanced at his father right when it happened, at his vibrant blue eyes, the wry smile that always tugged at his lips. The next thing James knew, there was a screech of wheels, an explosion of metal, and he was thrown forward, faceplanting into the seat across from him. The cool leather on his face seemed at odds with the chaos around him—glass shattered, metal bent, and the world spun.
His body left the coolness of the leather, and then he was in the air, his sneakers streaking away from the shattered window. He saw the limo then, rolling and rolling like it would never stop, each time being crushed into a smaller pulp. The image would be imprinted in his mind forever.
Somehow, when he landed hard on his back, he stayed conscious. He peeled himself off the pavement, feeling most of the skin leave his back. He saw the semi for the first time, on its side, the front cabin smashed in. He would later learn that the driver had fallen asleep behind the wheel.
He ran toward the limo, slipping slightly on the rain-slicked pavement, ignoring the pain in his back. It had finally come to a rest, right side up but barely recognizable. Smoke billowed from the engine, and the sides were crumpled like paper, nearly touching each other. James reached the broken windows and peered in, afraid of what he would see.
The inside was a mess of shattered glass and metal, but his father was nowhere to be seen. James stepped back, coughing from the acrid smoke.
On the side of the road, a body lay still, lifeless.
“No, no, no,” James muttered, running toward it. This couldn’t be happening.
His father’s eyes were wide and unseeing.
James dropped to his knees, reaching toward his dad, grabbing his limp hand, feeling for a pulse, for life. He felt nothing. Blood pooled on the wet cement around them, but still, James didn’t believe it. It wasn’t true.
“Dad,” he said, shaking the limp hand, trying to wake him up. He’d awaken—James was sure of it. He’d blink and shake his head and give James the same wry smile. “Dad, wake up.”
But he didn’t wake up. He stared blankly past James, his mouth hanging loose.
“Dad!” James said. He stopped shaking the arm and leaned forward, pressing his forehead against his dad’s bloody, misshapen chest, and he cried.
The police arrived shortly after, the blue and red lights blinding in the rainy night. Someone put a hand on James’s shoulder and tried to draw him away, but he resisted. He couldn’t leave him. He couldn’t.
Sometime later, another hand grabbed his shoulder, more firmly. Still, James wouldn’t move.
“James,” Derek said.
James looked up then. His brother stood behind him, his suit jacket and tie gone, his hair flattened against his forehead from the rain.
“Derek!” James said wildly. “Derek, you’re here! You can save him!”
Derek took a step back, looking everywhere but at their father’s body.
“It’s too late, James.” His voice cracked. Two EMTs rushed past him and knelt over their father.
“What are you talking about?” James demanded. Derek was being stupid. He could save their father—he was a Super.
“I can’t...” Derek’s voice broke. Drops of water ran down his face, tears or raindrops or both.
The EMTs produced a white sheet and threw it over their father, covering him completely. That wasn’t right. None of this was right. Derek was a Super. This shouldn’t be happening.
“James.” Derek took a step forward and reached for James’s shoulder. His face was twisted with anguish. “I can’t save him. He’s already gone.”
James took a step back, out of his brother’s reach. In disbelief, in anger, he stared at Derek through the downpour. He spoke in a cold, detached voice. “What’s the point of having powers if you can’t save your own family?”
Derek flinched like he’d been hit. He reached a hand out to James again, but James turned. And he ran.
He ran down the side of the highway, the cold rain pelting his face, his bleeding back screaming in protest. He heard yells from Derek and others. But still, he ran.
Away from Derek, away from his father’s broken body, away from a truth he could not begin to comprehend, a break in his reality he would never recover from, even as the years passed and the pain dulled and his memories became foggy windows into another life.
Chapter 30
“Pitā, ani putra ani pavitra ātmākō nā’um̐mā. Āmēna.”
James stirred. The first thing he noticed was the heat. He was wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, amazingly comfortable. Was he dead? Would he know if he was? His eyes were closed, but he found himself too scared to open them.
“I... Yes, I do think he’ll be alright,” a woman’s voice said, soft and light.
Not dead, then. Hallucinating? Perhaps he’d open his eyes to find himself still lying in the snow, surrounded by the mountains, the heat and the voices just a figment of his imagination. Only one way to find out.
James opened his eyes.
He stared up at a wooden, thatched ceiling. Something heavy lay across his chest, solid and warm. A blanket. A crackling sound nearby indicated a fire. He groaned, turned his head, and saw...
James yelped and tried to sit up, unsuccessfully. His limbs ignored his request and kept him still. Sitting in a chair across from his bed was Auri. The Super’s eyes grew wide and she raised her hands in front of her.
“It’s okay, it’s okay!” she said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
James looked around the room, breathing heavily. At first, he thought this was another room of the secret base. Maybe he’d been found and brought back. But no, that was ridiculous. This was a small, cozy room with wooden walls and a fire. Sunlight shone in through a half-covered window. And there was only one other person, a small, frail
