Impossible Things (Subparheroes), page 8
“We don’t know who we’re up against, or what kind of technology they might have access to,” Sam explained. “My car doesn’t have a built-in GPS that someone could hack, or computerized systems that could get knocked offline, or any of that. It’s just steel, glass, and grease.”
“Makes sense.”
It must have been obvious that I was nervous, because he drew me into a hug and told me, “You’ll be okay, Andy. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“I won’t let anyone hurt you, either.”
He smiled at me when I took a step back. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
As much as I wanted to play it cool, I ended up blurting, “I can’t believe this is happening! Someone just tried to shove me into the back of a van, for fuck’s sake! That’s already scary, but it’s even worse if it’s the same person who broke into the archives. They destroyed everything around them when they couldn’t find what they were looking for, which is hardly the mark of a calm, rational individual. What if they catch us? Then what?”
“Don’t start spiraling, Andy. We need to keep it together.” He was right. I took a deep breath, then another as he said, “That’s good, just keep breathing. I’ll go and keep your family company while you pack.”
On the way out, Sam paused long enough to scoop up a random cat. He began speaking to her in baby-talk as he shut the door behind him. Once he was gone, I took another deep breath and went to dig some luggage out of my closet.
Maybe ten or fifteen minutes later, I joined everyone in the kitchen. I’d changed into jeans and a hoodie, and I was carrying a backpack and a small suitcase.
To my surprise, Marigold Gonzales had already arrived. She was an attractive Latina in her mid-forties, with a lesbian flag pin on her black leather jacket.
When Sam introduced us, she crushed my hand and said, “I want you to know you have nothing to worry about, Mr. Chen. Your moms are in good hands.” She flashed them a smile, which made both my mom and Julie giggle like schoolgirls. Good lord. Then she handed me a small, black duffle bag and said, “This is from SPAM. It should hold you gentlemen for a while.”
I slid back the zipper and spotted a bunch of cash as Marigold continued, “Agent Alvarez is waiting downstairs to drive you to Mr. Miller’s home. She’ll watch your backs while you’re there, and if you need a vehicle, you can take the SUV. It’s SPAM standard-issue, just like that go-bag.” It struck me as odd that my employer had these kinds of contingencies in place, though at the moment it was definitely a good thing.
“I’d prefer to take my car.” When I asked if he was sure, Sam said, “Besides the advantages we talked about, I’ve seen the SPAM SUVs, and they’re pretty conspicuous. My plan is to take us off the beaten path, and my car will blend in a lot better. Trust me.” I really did have to trust him—not just with that, but with all of this.
Marigold reminded us, “You should get going, gentlemen.” I nodded and picked up my backpack, while Sam grabbed the other two bags.
On the way to the front of the apartment, I petted every cat in my path and told them I’d see them soon. When we reached the door, I hugged Mom and Julie in turn and promised I’d check in daily. “I shut off my phone and left it in my room, so when I call you it’ll be from a different number,” I said. “Moira’s supposed to be on campus this morning. If she comes over later, tell her what’s happening and let her know I’ll call her tonight.”
I hugged my mom one more time and told her, “I love you so much. Please be safe. If you go out, take Ms. Gonzales with you, and keep an eye on your surroundings.”
“Don’t worry about me. You just be sure to keep yourself safe, and come back to me as soon as you can.” She kissed my cheek, and when she said, “I love you, my sunshine,” I had to fight back tears.
After one more round of goodbyes, we finally made it out the door, down the stairs, and into the back seat of a huge, black SUV. Sam started to give the driver his address, but she cut him off with, “We know where you live, Mr. Miller.” She obviously meant they’d gotten his information from his employee file, but that was a creepy way to put it.
He sat back and exhaled slowly. It occurred to me that he was probably as nervous as I was, but he was a lot better at hiding it. I gave his hand a quick squeeze, and in response, he shifted a little, so we were leaning against each other. It felt reassuring.
A couple of minutes later, we arrived at Sam’s place. It turned out to be a cute little yellow house on one of North Beach’s side streets. Agent Alvarez got out first and looked around before nodding to us, and we hurried inside. “I’ll be five minutes,” Sam said. “Do me a favor and dump out the milk in my fridge. I don’t want to come home to a science experiment.”
“Sure, no problem.”
He jogged up the stairs directly in front of us, and I started to head down a hallway to my left. But the first room I came to caught my attention, so I paused and looked inside. It was a nice room with pale blue walls and a big fireplace, but it was almost empty, aside from a beanbag chair. It made me wonder if Sam had only recently moved in.
I continued down the hall, passing a bathroom and a closed door before reaching the kitchen. In addition to the nearly empty gallon of milk, all the fridge contained was a bottle of ketchup and an energy drink.
As requested, I dumped out what was left of the milk and rinsed the carton. Then, while I waited for Sam, I perused the photos that were stuck to the fridge with magnets. Most of them were of him with a redheaded guy and a woman with dark hair. The three of them were teens in some of the pictures. A more recent photo was of his two companions on their wedding day. Sam must have been the best man because he was standing at their side, looking handsome in a tuxedo.
The three remaining photos were of Sam and his mother. Surprisingly, one of the pictures had been taken in this kitchen, which told me he hadn’t recently moved in. It actually looked like he’d spent his entire life here.
I leaned in and studied his mom. She was blonder than Sam, but her eyes were the same shade of greenish blue that his were. She looked happy in the photos. They both did. One had been taken when he was a fat, jolly baby, another when he was maybe five or six, and one when he was about eleven. There were no more after that, which made my heart ache.
“That’s my whole life in a nutshell.” I jumped at the sound of Sam’s voice right behind me. He was good at moving quietly.
“Your mom was beautiful.”
“For sure. She was smart too, and funny. She could always make me laugh, even when I was mad or upset.” His voice wavered a little, so he changed the subject by pointing at the wedding picture. “That’s Matt and Cassie. The three of us have been best friends since the ninth grade. We were even roommates for a few years, but after they got married, Matt was offered a job in Denver. They’ve been there the last four years, and Cassie’s pregnant with their second child.”
Before I could say anything, he changed the subject with, “Anyway, I just need to do one last thing, and then we can get going.”
Sam found a shopping bag and opened a cabinet, which contained nothing but protein bars. After he packed all of them, along with the energy drink from the fridge, I followed him to the foyer. He scooped up a backpack and a large duffle bag before heading out the door and locking it behind us.
Agent Alvarez waited with the motor running while he opened the garage, backed out a rusty blue Chevy Nova, and locked up again. Once we got our luggage and ourselves situated, we began to make our way out of the neighborhood.
The SUV followed us for about eight blocks before turning off. “We’re on our own now,” I murmured.
“Good. I prefer it that way.” Sam fished around in the glovebox and put on a pair of sunglasses. Meanwhile, I shifted in the passenger seat and tried to get comfortable.
We rode in silence for a while. Eventually I asked, mostly to make conversation, “Are you remodeling?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Because there was almost no furniture in your living room.”
“Oh, that. Before I got the job at SPAM with its decent paycheck, I had to sell my stuff piece by piece when I needed money. The house is paid for, but it costs a lot to maintain it and pay the property tax.”
“Do you have roommates?”
Sam shook his head. “I rented out a couple rooms after Cassie and Matt moved out, but the tenants were totally disrespectful and didn’t take care of the house. I couldn’t stand that. It’s all I have left of my mom, and…” He fell silent for a few seconds as he tried to get his emotions under control. It was surprising to see so much vulnerability from him. Finally, he said, “Anyway, I’d rather struggle to make ends meet than put up with shit like that.”
He cleared his throat, and then he changed the subject by indicating the SPAM-issued bag at my feet. “Why don’t you take a look at our supplies? I’m curious about what’s in there.”
I moved the bag onto my lap, unzipped it, and counted the bundles of money. “There’s five thousand dollars in small bills.” I dug deeper and reported, “We also have water purification tablets, some weird foil pouches labeled ‘food,’ which fill me with dread, and the world’s smallest first aid kit. It includes bandages and a tourniquet. We’re now ready for two types of injuries—minor scrapes, or losing a limb.” I dug down to the bottom and produced three plastic bags. “Finally, we have a pair of outdated cellphones, and something labeled ‘weapon.’ I think it’s a stun gun.”
Sam glanced at the black, oblong object in its plastic bag and nodded. “It is. Be careful with that.”
“Well, yeah. I wasn’t going to zap you for funsies.”
“All in all, our supplies could be worse.”
“Could they? I mean, the cash is useful, but the rest of it’s pretty lackluster.”
“What were you expecting? One of those spy kits like in the movies, with ten types of foreign currency and five fake passports?”
“That would have been cool.”
I slid a folded sheet of paper from the outside pocket of the bag, and Sam asked, “What is that?”
“It’s a SPAM request form. Under recipients, it says Anderson Chen, code name DP, and Sam Miller.”
A laugh burst from him. “Damn, you never mentioned that special skill.”
“I don’t know what it stands for, but it’s not that. Also, why do I have a code name, and you don’t?”
“I bet it’s because you have a superpower. Like I said before, SPAM makes a point of collecting people with powers, no matter how random. Giving you a code name suggests you’re deployable, given the right set of circumstances.”
“I guess that makes sense, although they could have mentioned that when they hired me.”
He glanced at me before turning his attention back to the road. “Do you ever wonder why SPAM recruited you? Because I sure as hell wonder why they recruited me.”
“Yeah, I do. I wasn’t job hunting at the time, so their call came out of nowhere.”
“Same. Did you do any online questionnaires or aptitude tests before they called?”
“No. Well, except for one of those silly quizzes—what kind of pizza would you be?”
“I took the same quiz! I was pineapple and jalapeno, which sounded gross.”
“I was plain cheese.” I glanced at Sam’s profile. “There’s no way our employer secretly gleaned information from our answers to a pizza quiz, right?” I thought about that before shaking my head and answering my own question. “Nah. There’s no way.”
“But then again, it’s SPAM,” he said, “so who the fuck knows?”
CHAPTER 10
SAM
I’d made the random decision to head north, with the plan of driving until dusk. But after a couple of hours, Andy informed me, “I have to get out of this car.” He’d barely said a word since we left San Francisco.
“Are you alright?”
“I think I might throw up.”
That sent me into instant panic mode. I yelled, “Fight the urge,” as I took a wild right turn from the left lane. The tires squealed as we barreled onto an off-ramp that we’d almost passed.
As soon as I could, I pulled to the side of the road, and Andy staggered out of the car and doubled over with his hands on his knees. After a minute, he straightened up and mumbled, “False alarm.”
“That’s a relief. The thought of you barfing almost made me barf, too. We could’ve gotten caught up in an endless loop, each of us setting the other off—” Andy looked alarmed, so I stopped talking.
He took off his hoodie, revealing a T-shirt that said I like big books and I cannot lie, and returned to the passenger seat. “It’s embarrassing that I still get carsick. I always assumed I’d outgrow it, but that never happened.”
I pointed at a cluster of businesses about a quarter mile down the frontage road. “There’s a motel, maybe we should check in. What do you think?”
He shrugged. “I guess it’s as good a place as any to lay low for a while.”
The motel could have been a lot worse. A hand-lettered sign in the lobby window announced it was under new ownership, which probably explained the fresh red and white paint job and the flowerpots beside each door.
Andy waited in the car while I went inside and paid cash for two nights. A few minutes later, as we carried our bags into the last room in the row, he pointed out, “There’s only one bed.”
“Yeah, I know. Apparently most of the rooms are currently being remodeled, so the only ones available are singles. If it bothers you, I can sleep on the floor.”
“I don’t mind sharing.”
The room was on the small side, but it had fresh, cream-colored paint on the walls, and the linens on the king-size bed were crisp and clean. There was even a compact kitchenette with a microwave and mini fridge. I dropped my bags and said, “I’m going to move the car and bring back some groceries from the truck stop mini mart across the street. Any requests?”
“Anything’s fine.” He was obviously still feeling off, because he was actually a very picky eater. “Why are you moving the car?”
“Since we’re supposed to be hiding out, I don’t think it’s smart to park a car that’s registered to me right outside our door.”
“How would anyone find us here? I don’t even know where we are right now.”
“They wouldn’t. I’m just being paranoid.”
Why worry him with the reminder that there were all kinds of people out there with weird superpowers? Someone with the ability to track people was a definite possibility. If they narrowed our location down to the motel, I didn’t want the car to act like a huge arrow, pointing to our room.
Before I left, I turned on the burner phones and made sure each was programmed with the other’s number. As I handed one to Andy, I said, “I’ll be back in twenty minutes, tops. If you think of anything you want while I’m gone, give me a call.”
When I got back to the room eighteen minutes later, Andy was sound asleep. He’d curled up in a little ball on the bed, and he looked fragile and vulnerable—a description he definitely would’ve hated. He’d probably also hate my overwhelming urge to protect him, which was stirred up by seeing him like that.
I took off my overshirt and used it to cover him, since he’d fallen asleep on top of the covers. Then I put away the food and drinks as quietly as I could before taking a seat at the small table beside the window. The curtains were drawn, but I opened a narrow gap in them and watched the parking lot.
There was a knot of worry in the pit of my stomach. It had been there all day. What if whoever had tried to grab us off the city streets managed to track us down? Would I have what it took to keep Andy safe? I’d been a decent bodyguard back in the day, but all I’d had to do was follow famous people around and discourage their overly enthusiastic fans. This was something else entirely, and I was nothing more than a regular guy with a total lack of special abilities.
I’d tried so hard to be more than that. I worked out religiously to make myself stronger, and I’d gotten training and become a bodyguard so I could protect people—to basically do what my mom used to, but without any of her powers.
It didn’t feel like nearly enough.
It was almost five p.m. when Andy finally woke up. “Sorry,” he mumbled, as he reached for his glasses. “I hadn’t intended to fall asleep.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad you got some rest.”
“I need to make some calls. I want to check in with April before she leaves for the day. I also want to call my family, and my best friend.”
“What about your girlfriend?”
He looked confused. “What makes you think I have a girlfriend?”
“I saw you holding hands with an attractive woman once, on your lunch break.”
“That was Moira. We’ve been best friends all our lives, and even if I wasn’t gay, there’d be absolutely no way we’d date. We’re basically brother and sister.”
“So then, do you have a boyfriend?”
“No. I’m perpetually single.”
As soon as he said that, one thought jumped up and smacked me in the face—maybe I have a shot with him. This flustered me way more than I would’ve expected. I got up from the table and self-consciously crossed my arms, then uncrossed them before awkwardly putting my hands on my hips.
He glanced at me and asked, “What about you?”
“Same, gay and single.” I needed a moment to get my shit together, so I told him, “I think I’ll stretch my legs while you make those calls.”
I hurried outside and started doing laps around the building while I mulled things over. I’d always found Andy attractive, but I’d tried to ignore it when I thought he was a straight guy with a girlfriend.
Suddenly, all sorts of possibilities had opened up—not that I should be thinking about this now. I needed to be focused and vigilant, not daydreaming about what his body would feel like pressed against mine. Plus, what if I made a pass at Andy and he wasn’t into it? That could make our time together painfully awkward.
