i

Okay, so Aunt Terry wasn’t wrong when she sewed the giant golden “A” on that fat-man-sweatshirt-dress and said that I was going to be wearing it for Halloween because when Halloween rolled around several weeks later, I dragged that costume back out without a moment of hesitation. It worked so well once; why wouldn’t it again?

Marilyn didn’t share quite the same sentiments, and as she plopped down on my bed, her makeup strewn around her on my comforter, she eyed me with a look I had grown to understand too well.

“Shut the fuck up.” I ignored her penetrating stare as I tugged on the red high top Converses again. “This costume is badass.”

Her eyes flashed with a roll as she groaned. “You’re a fucking chipmunk, Ana. There’s nothing badass about that.”

“I said shut the fuck up!” I whipped back at her jovially, and she snapped open a compact, carefully applying even more makeup to her face, purposefully avoiding my gaze.

A smile pawed at her lips, and she threw a grin in my direction. “My costume is still better.”

I arched an eyebrow at her. “My costume is higher up on the food chain.”

She giggled. “Okay, so you’re a mammal. Congratulations. I’m the fucking Black Widow.”

“No.” I shook my head at her. “You’re Scarlett Johansson dressed in a skintight jumpsuit.”

Marilyn waggled her eyebrows at me, fingers clapping the compact closed. “Damn straight!”

“So, where are we meeting Josh?” I slid a bobby pin between my teeth as I pushed my hair back. It was starting to be a little long for my tastes, but I’d been too lazy to do anything about it.

Marilyn shrugged and slid off my bed, a tube of mascara and lip gloss rolling over the edge of the mattress and tumbling to the floor. Grumbling, she bent over to retrieve them. “I don’t fucking know. That boy doesn’t really respond to messages.”

I chuckled. “No, Lucas just spoils you by texting you all the fucking time.”

She flicked me off and set to work trying to zip up her jumpsuit, the top half which was currently limp around her waist. She shoved her arms in first and then used her fingers to squeeze her boobs into the tight-fitting outfit, purposefully leaving the zipper at half-mast, tantalizing her cleavage with a taste of freedom.

“Wow.” I nodded at her. “Not half as slutty as I was expecting you to be.”

Marilyn tossed her coppery hair back as she laughed. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You know, I’m almost shocked that people here even know what trick-or-treating is.” I inspected the incorrigible clump of hair trapped under the bobby pins.

“How come?” Marilyn’s eyebrows dipped with almost offended confusion.

“You’ve never been in a car.” I met her gaze, my own eyebrows arched with emphasis.

“I’ve been in a car.” She huffed, running her fingers through her hair. “It didn’t have any wheels or anything, and it was really only a prototype of this low-flying vehicle thing.”

“Impressive.” I shook my head at my reflection and brushed the pins out. “But a science fiction concept car isn’t the same thing as a classic Honda Accord.”

“I’ve seen one.” Marilyn countered, joining me at my mirror.

A smile twitched at the corners of my lips. “Cute.”

“Anyway, trick-or-treating has been around for, like, ever, so I don’t see why it’s that big of a deal we celebrate it.” She gathered a couple locks of my hair in her fingers and thrust a bobby pin through them, not even scraping my scalp like I had managed to do a million times.

I shrugged, but she placed a hand on my shoulder. “Stop wiggling!”

I chuckled. “Have you ever seen an incandescent light bulb?”

“The kind Edison invented?” She inquired, her eyes narrowing at my reflection. She nodded once and patted the side of my head. “Better?”

“Yeah, the Edison kind,” I answered before handing her a smile. “Thanks.”

She shook her head. “Nope, but I’ve seen plenty of pictures. We only have these ridiculously high-efficiency bulbs that use this weird obscure gas, I think. I think it’s even synthetic actually.”

“Double G produced?” I dropped to my knees and dragged my bag out from underneath my bed.

“Ding ding ding!” Marilyn rubbed her finger along her eye makeup. “We have a winner!”

I laughed. “What not a surprise!”

“And for our next act, ladies and gentlemen of the world, the people of Credence would like to don our organic and hand woven clothes and do a little dance to a tune we like to call, ‘What is modern?’” Marilyn let her eyes loll about, crossing them, and stuck her tongue out, hands and arms assuming the classic robot position. She waved her arms about jerkily and in a mock autotuned voice improvised a melody. “What is modern, modern world, technology out your ears, we’ve got you beat! What is modern, modern world, organic and green, freeing and freedom, we’re way ahead of you! Oh, what is modern, modern world!”

I collapsed onto my bed, my hands gripping my sides as my body shook with laughter. “Encore, encore!”

She drew up into a frozen frame, eyes dead and fixed on nothing. Through her tight smile, she produced an automated command, “Please insert another coin. I’m sorry, we only accept Greene & Greener.”

I applauded her, laughter still ripping from my lips.

Marilyn broke out of character, shaking her head. “If a journalist ever wanted to do a write up of us, that’s how I imagine it would sound in your world.”

I half-shrugged. “The journalist would probably get lost just trying to find this place.”

“Hm, that’s true, too.” She admitted with a giggle. She perched a hand on her hip. “We ready to rock and roll, homie?”

I threw the empty bag (for candy, duh) over my shoulder and rolled my phone against my arm. “Dude, this phone is literally what the entire world needs.”

Marilyn shook her head, poking at mine with her fake nails. “You just say that because you and your phone are having a love affair.”

“Oh, clearly.” I nodded, pushing the door open.

“I don’t know, actually.” Her brow furrowed, her head cocked to the side, as she pondered the idea and stood her bike up. “Could the world handle such a thing?”

I glanced at the phone strapped to my arm. “I think so. The thing is small, lightweight, does everything people want a phone to do, and it’s still green.”

Marilyn snorted as I threw my leg over the seat of my bike.

“What?” I prompted, leaning my weight over the handlebars as I pushed off.

“Is this phone really that big of a deal?” She rolled her eyes, riding alongside me.

“The phone can be rolled against surfaces.” My bright eyes met hers, much dimmer. “And it will stay there until you roll it off. That’s fucking cool.”

She sighed. “Whatever, Ana.”

“You just don’t appreciate the awesome tech you guys are forced to have.” I grinned at her.

“Probably.” She agreed. “If only I cared.”

I chuckled. “Somehow I feel like you aren’t the only one with those sentiments.”

“Hey!” Marilyn pointed at a group of younger high-schoolers pedalling down a wide asphalt road. “I smell candy! After those fuckers!”

We tore across a grassy patch in the front of someone’s yard and came out hot on their tails. We flanked the four of them.

“Where’s hot tonight?” Marilyn interrogated them, narrowing her eyes at them menacingly.

“The usual.” Some guy dressed up as Batman delivered, his voice gravelly and deep, imitating Christian Bale’s. “Along the main road and around the shops.”

“The shops are open this year?” Marilyn’s eyes brightened as a smile overcame her lips. “Are they carding?”

“Don’t know,” replied a Robin baring her midriff, her too short miniskirt displaying frilly panties, and she shrugged. “We’re on our way there now.”

Marilyn nodded. “Perfect. Lead the way.”

She and I fell behind them a bit and rode along the smooth asphalt until it dead-ended into a single perpendicular road. We took a left, and Credence opened into two rows of hobbit holes decorated with jack-o-lanterns and warm LED string lights. Most doors were open, and children and parents meandered in and out of the shops, the owners giving away free handouts and sweets.

The other kids, Marilyn, and I ditched our bikes at a wooden post strangled with long, spindly ivy fingers, and we started our way along the mine of goodies. Batman led his band of caped crusaders ahead of us as Marilyn got distracted at the first shop offering nail polishes, and as she pored over the various shades of I don’t care, I lost myself in a cigarette, leaning against the hilly side of the shop, watching the families make their way down the street. Little princesses and still-in-training ninjas skipped away from their caretakers, past the glowing candles of the jack-o-lanterns and fake cobwebs.

Miracle was running alongside them all, weaving in and out, and for the first time in a very long time, she even took to flight, her legs disappearing behind her in a wispy tail. She pulsed with the energy of the night, the most alive I’d ever seen her, and even though she was quite some distance away from me, I could still make out the rouge on her cheeks, flush from her giddiness.

Marilyn eventually emerged from the hobbit hole, a nice, precise selection of colors jumbled in her bag, and she waved the glass of spiced rum in her hand at me and the display before us. “Isn’t Halloween wonderful?”

“How did you manage to get that?” I prodded, amazed.

She flashed huge brown eyes at me, her shoulders slumping in such a way that essentially handed her breasts to me on a platter, and I chuckled.

“What a way with men you have, my dear!” I patted her shoulder congratulatory.

She tossed her hair over her shoulders with a laugh and sipped another mouthful of the drink before draining the last in one chug. She opened the mouth of her bag and dropped inside the goblet made of this ridiculously thin, clear alloy stronger than plastic and ten times healthier for the environment.

“Let’s see how many I get tonight.” She waggled her eyebrows at me, and I groaned, unable to stop the grin creeping over my lips.

We continued along the street in the same fashion, picking over the travel-sized items attached with coupons for Black Friday and other deals, and I watched with my arms crossed in admiration as Marilyn accepted drink after drink, adding each goblet to her collection. It was safe to say she was full-on tipsy by the time we made it back to our bikes, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit I’d had a couple goblets of wine either. We were more than warmly content as we mounted our bikes, our bags jingling and clanking with the candies and freebies.

“So how come Lucas isn’t throwing a party?” I burped as we rode off down the street, a little less than deftly weaving in and out of the groups.

“He has a business meeting.” She smiled at me, her cheeks beaming with pride. “He needed the place to be in tiptop shape.”

“Makes sense.” I muttered under my breath, questioning Marilyn with a wave of my hand in the direction of another street. It was less crowded, but decorations lining the road invited us to make the trip anyway.

Marilyn nodded, so we found another post and chained up our bikes. We started down the street, and she dug in her bag, pulling out a Snickers.

“These are genius.” She waved the candy before me, fingers peeling back the wrapper. “Last year, no one had them, and I was so fucking mad. I don’t want fucking Milky Ways!”

I giggled. “How were there not any Snickers?”

She shrugged. “Nobody ordered them or anything, I guess.”

My brow furrowed as my lips twisted up in confusion. “You can’t just buy candy in, like, a store or something?”

She rolled her eyes. “Jesus, Ana, how long have you been here? We have candy. We just tend to make it, so it’s always exciting when we get shipments of the prepackaged shit. And that only happens at holidays.”

“Why?” I asked her, still strung up in disbelief, and her eyes squinted as she considered the reasons.

“I don’t know.” She admitted with a sigh. “Probably because our candy stores just wouldn’t be able to make enough candy or something.”

“Or money.” I suggested, and she nodded, crunching on the peanuts in her candy bar.

We approached another hobbit hole, and Batman and Robin exited as we arrived at the front door. We gave one another awkward head nod hellos and carried on, but we quickly left, too, as they were out of candy already and Marilyn failed miserably at trying to seduce the guy manning the drink table.

Marilyn shook her head, fists angrily clenched. “Fuck that guy,” she grunted.

“For real.” I echoed as she stormed off toward the next shop. “He was definitely being purposefully dense.”

She growled at the sky, and as I pushed open a waist-height gate, Robin came dashing out, tears streaking down her cheeks, her cowl hanging around her neck.

I glanced at Marilyn. “At least you’re not that bitch.”

She chuckled, nodding. “Poor pathetic creature.”

Batman was nowhere to be found as we made our way up to the open front door.

“Jesus, what did the bastard do?” Marilyn pondered quietly and nosily, peering around the shop before entering.

“Ten bucks Robin found Batman and Ivy going at it.” I grinned.

Her lips pulled back in amusement, but her eyes zeroed in on the drink table. Within seconds, she had disappeared from my side, resurfacing prostrate before the booze, and she blinked her large brown eyes up at the guy, lips undoubtedly flirtatiously wet and red.

I rolled my eyes and picked over the small bags of seeds organized on the various tables in the middle of the shop. More seeds and different caretaking tools lined the walls, and I quickly lost myself in the luscious, abundant dreams growing in my mind. My garden was feeling a little neglected, and the little packets with new plants and fruit offered to perk it up a bit.

“Too easy.” Marilyn burst my bubble, popping it with an outstretched hand with an extra hard apple cider. “Got you a present.”

I didn’t break away from the jumble of seeds, thousands of little voices calling my name and wooing me with a promised land of bountiful green. “Yeah, thanks.”

I took the cider and sipped it, mulling over which seeds played well with others.

“What are you looking for?” Marilyn inquired, fingers sliding some packets around as she also rummaged through the options.

I shrugged. “Anything really. I just want more in my garden.”

She tapped a packet of seeds bragging vivacious violets. “These guys would look awesome outside your house.”

I studied the bag, agreeing. “Yeah, they would. What seeds are recommended to plant with them?”

She fell silent as we hunted through the forest of packaging, and for the next twenty minutes we assembled a new outfit for my garden, eventually walking away with four bags each — after Marilyn had milked a couple more drinks out of the guy serving them.

Marilyn held a packet up to the moon and studied the seeds through her narrowed eyes as we continued on our journey to the next hobbit hole.

“They look like little pills.” She commented before dropping it into her bag along with another goblet.

“Yeah, don’t swallow these.” I instructed her jokingly. “Try explaining having to get your stomach pumped because you have a tree growing in your stomach.”

She snorted, lips buzzing with a raspberry. “Please, Ana, everybody knows you can only grow watermelons in your stomach. These are for radishes, so I can swallow them if I want to.”

My shoulders shook with laughter as an electronic jingle suddenly dubstepped its way out of Marilyn’s bag. She reached in and withdrew her phone.

“Hey, Luke, what’s up?” She answered the phone, sliding her thumbnail between her teeth.

“All right.” Her voice cheerily rang out in the night, and I was suddenly aware of how empty this street had gotten. It must have been getting late, not a single child in sight.

“We’ll head over now, yeah. See you soon.” She hung up and turned a smile in my direction. “His meeting went well. Like, he seriously just made bank.”

“Well done.” I clinked my imaginary glass against her fingers curved around an invisible drink. “So we heading his way now?”

She nodded. “Yeah, he said we should come over and watch scary movies.”

“I’m down.” I ripped open a wrapper for a Reese’s and popped the peanut butter cup in my mouth. “Did Josh ever text you back?”

Marilyn shook her head, extracting a squished pack of Marlboro’s from her bag. “Nah, that son of a bitch be ignoring me. Want one?”

“Sure.” I slid a cigarette out of the pack, swallowing the sweet mass on my tongue.

Her eyes brightened a bit as she lit up a cigarette. “Dude, we could roll again tonight.”

“Lucas kept some?” I inquired, brow knit in uncertainty at why he wouldn’t sell it all. We’d already had our fill, hadn’t we?

The smile that tugged at her lips glinted mischievously in her eyes, and I narrowed my eyes at her.

She slowly shook her head. “I have a couple.”

A sudden cough behind us startled us, and we broke apart, spinning around to find Batman briskly power-walking his way down the street.

“Goddamnit!” Marilyn took a drag. “Fucking Batman.”

He wasn’t super close, but he was probably within hearing range, which I guess she was banking on with her jab.

“Anyway,” she continued in a lower voice, “we could drop back in one of these places and get something to drink if we wanna take any.”

I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, Marilyn, you’re impatient. Why wouldn’t you want to wait until we get to Lucas’? That way we don’t have to worry about losing our minds biking over there.”

She groaned. “Fine, whatever. Just wanted to put tha—”

A black gloved-hand suddenly slid over her shoulder, and as Marilyn was shoved to the ground, my body was already twisting instinctively, my hands colliding against a second arm shooting in my direction. The throw was rolling through me, my arms following through the blow I delivered as I grabbed the arm and tossed the attached body against the asphalt.

It took a moment for it to register that I’d just flipped Batman onto the road, and as it sunk in, Marilyn pushed herself to her feet, brushing herself off. She grimaced when she found a hole in her elbow, blood showing through the rip.

Batman scampered back as he got back on his feet, and this time I was ready when he rushed me again. My arms pulled in as I easily deflected a fist aiming for my jaw, ducking under the flying limb, and I cut my hand back across the guy’s throat, catching him mid-howl.

I threw him back. “What the fuck, man?”

The kid’s fingers clawed at his cowl, and as he tore it away from his face, the dangerous gleam in his eyes twinkled at me.

“Gimme the drugs.” He commanded hurriedly, his breathing shallow, voice lost in a gruff whine.

“No!” Marilyn shot him a frown, eyes hard with disbelief and anger, her hand holding her bloody elbow. “Fuck you!”

“Fuck you, bitch!” He shouted back, closing the gap between them.

I darted in front of Marilyn, my hands cocked back in fists ready to make contact. “Back off.” I cut him off.

For a moment, I thought he was going to surrender, but he faked me out, turning his shoulder to me, rapidly twirling around me, and squarely kicking me in the back.

It was a blow he shouldn’t have been able to get through my defense, but I choked my frustration with the realization my depth perception was off, due to the alcohol. However, as I rolled through the kick and stumbled to right myself again, Batman had managed to lock Marilyn down in a tight grasp, with a gun jammed against her temple.

I didn’t have time to question where he’d pulled the gun from, and honestly, I didn’t care, suddenly having to reassess the situation. My teeth ground against one another as the solution of handing over the drugs became a reality.

“I’ll ask you again.” Batman pointedly emphasized each word, a sharp panic hanging on the edge of his voice. “Gimme the drugs.”

I met Marilyn’s eyes, silently pleading with her to give in, and her brown eyes, large with fear and shiny with terrified tears, stared back mutely.

“Come on, bitch!” Batman kicked Marilyn’s legs out from under her, and a strangled whimper escaped her trembling lips.

“Marilyn, please,” I whispered. “Where are they?”

She squeezed her eyes closed, her chin still raised defiantly.

Batman drew his gun back to beat her across the face with it, but before it connected with her, a loud whistling barreled down the street toward us.

My jaw slowly dropped as a hand — at least, I think it was a hand — flashed out. It was so fast; my eyes might have been playing tricks. A low pulse pushed out from the black-encased palm. The entire outline of the hand glowed, white veins spider-webbing along the glove dark as the night. The infrasonic wave jetted the gun out of the hand of the unsuspecting Batman, and before the shock could even reach his eyes, the same hand rolled against the top of his head with a motion not unlike that of what it took to attach my phone to my shoulder, yanking Batman off the ground and into the air. The hand’s master was a creature so silent and swift that my eyes barely caught the shadow of the figure crouched low on a narrow board in mid-air.

With another boom, this one much louder than the first, Batman disappeared, his screams fading out faster than I could blink.

“Holy shit.”

My voice, a whisper, was so harsh against the still air, undisturbed by the occurrence that couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds.

I spun, my eyes wildly latching on Marilyn’s. “He fucking went supersonic!”

She gave a low chuckle, mascara two thick lines curving down her cheeks.

I dropped to a knee beside her, a hand gently wrapping around her back, and I pushed back the hair at her temple where the gun had been flush with her skin. I studied the red outline before meeting her gaze again. “You all right?”

Her shoulders shook as her lips parted with a sob, and she leaned forward into me. I wrapped my arms around her and rocked her gently from side to side.

“Where-where did you learn to do that?” Her voice cracked, and she wiped a hand under her nose as she drew back, her eyes meeting mine again. Admiration shone in them, mingling with the tears.

I gave her a small smile. “I’ve been fighting constructively for a long time, since third grade.”

She shook her head at me, awe etched into the curve hanging on her lips. “Thank you.”

I waved my hand as I helped her to her feet. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just sorry I didn’t take him out before he pulled that gun. I should have been faster.”

She just studied me a moment, unusually quiet.

I handed her bag back to her. “So was that him? Was that The Phantom?”

Marilyn nodded, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“Well, the name certainly fits.” I quietly chuckled, bending down where the gun had landed. I nudged it with my toe so that I could get a better look at it, double-checking that the safety was on.

“What are you doing?” She frowned at me, timidly taking a couple steps toward me.

I placed my bag on the ground next to the gun and, using the inside of the bag, grabbed the weapon. I dropped it inside and zipped the bag closed again.

I smiled at her. “We couldn’t just leave it here. What if some kid found it?”

She sniffed and nodded. “So sensible. Lucas will know what to do with it.”

“Come on.” I gently guided my hands around her and steered us in the direction of our bikes. “Let’s go to Lucas’.”

She nodded hurriedly, and we set off for the post we chained our bicycles to. We rode in silence mainly, and I didn’t mind, the chill of Miracle settling on my bike far from as numbing as Marilyn’s blank expression.

I’d never seen her like this before, and I didn’t know if she needed consoling, a standup routine, or space. I went with cowering in a corner, awaiting a sign, and pumped my legs harder and harder. Eventually we made it to the forest surrounding Lucas’ little oasis of freedom, and Marilyn slowly unwound, her shoulder relaxing as the corners of her lips twitched with a promise of a smile, though she still hadn’t said anything by the time we had broken through the trees.

I kept telling myself I’d probably have to explain the situation, prepared for presenting the gun and propping up a Marilyn weak at the seams, tears still leaking through, but when we arrived at Lucas’ cozy hill of earth, nothing could have prepared me for Marilyn’s reaction.

Lucas emerged with his arms open wide, his face happily done up with a smug grin, but it quickly inverted into a deeply concerned frown as Lucas took Marilyn’s face in his hands.

“What happened?” His brow pinched together, thumbs rubbing across her cheeks in an attempt to clear the smudged makeup.

My voice was ready to launch, but when I opened my mouth, it wasn’t mine that replied.

“You should have seen it.” Marilyn softly told him, her eyes shining with a mixture of remnants of tears and awe. “Did you know Ana is a trained fighter?”

Lucas shifted his eyes from hers to mine, expression unchanged. “What happened?”

Marilyn shook her head, wrapping her arms around Lucas’ chest. “Some punkass kid dressed as Batman tried to hustle me into giving him the extra molly.”

Lucas pushed her away from him to search her eyes again, his hands tightly clasped around her arms. “What? When?”

The front door of Lucas’ house creaked open, and Josh stuck out his head. “What’s taking so long?”

His eyes widened when they fell on Marilyn’s face, and he joined us outside. “What happened?”

“Some kid tried to mug ‘em!” Lucas shook his head, his eyes never leaving Marilyn’s. “I shouldn’t have let you take those—”

“Bullshit!” She cut him off, her burning eyes narrowed at him. “This had nothing to do with you.”

Josh’s hands ran through his hair as his lips fished for words. “I’m just...I’m glad you guys are all right. What happened? Did you give him anything?”

“Yeah, we gave him hell.” Marilyn grinned at him, slinging her thumb over her shoulder at me. “You should have fucking seen her in action.”

Josh cocked his head at me, curious. “What’d you do?”

I drew in a deep breath. “I’ve...I’ve sorta been training in the ways of mixed martial arts for the past ten years of my life.”

His lips curled back with a mischievous twitch, eyes glinting with a million questions.

“She fucking took this guy out.” Marilyn waved her hands, imitating my tipsy form, and I cringed.

“I was kinda drunk.” I added, giving a little shake of my head. “I really wasn’t that impressive. I wasn’t fucking fast enough to keep the guy from drawing a gun.”

“A gun!” Lucas exploded, spinning Marilyn back around to him. “He pulled a gun on you?”

She jerked her arms out of his hands. “Yeah, Lucas, so what?”

“So what.” Lucas repeated, eyes rolling. “The fuck, Marilyn! You could’ve been killed!”

“But we weren’t.” Her lips set in a tight line, jaw taught angrily, eyes burning. “Calm the fuck down.”

Lucas stared at her for a moment, and before he could do anything, which I was afraid would consist of either smacking the shit out of Marilyn or making love to her right then and there, I stepped up, giving a little wave of my fingers.

“It gets better.” I intervened quietly.

Lucas flicked his eyes to me, almost annoyed, and I couldn’t help the crooked smile that hung on my lips.

“The Phantom took the guy out.” I bit back the grin my puckering lips were struggling to swallow.

Lucas dropped his gaze and drew in a deep breath, and Josh chuckled lightly.

“You guys are really lucky.” He told us, glancing at Lucas anxiously. “I’m glad you guys are all right.”

Marilyn nodded, also studying the grass. “Yeah...Still a bit shaken up, but...” She placed a hand on Lucas’ chest. “It’s all right.” She addressed him quietly, leaning in for a kiss, and Lucas surrendered, tenderly pressing his lips against hers.

I turned my eyes to Josh, and he winked at me, his lips quirking into half a smile.

“So, MMA?” He nodded at me. “Admirable.”

I rolled my eyes, chuckling. “Actually, my parents made me. They thought my energy needed a more constructive focus.”

His eyebrow arched into a questioning point.

“I was...getting into...trouble a lot.” I carefully chose my words, and Josh grinned.

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” He teased. “Considering you were late to practice because you had detention. On the first day of class.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, my life of crime didn’t end with MMA. It was just...curbed.”

He laughed. “Well, clearly the skills came in handy.”

I nodded, flicking my eyes back to the couple slowly losing themselves in one another, and I motioned for Josh and I to give them some privacy.

We made our way inside, and I collapsed in a bean bag chair in the living room. Suddenly, I remembered about the gun in my bag, and I sat up, carefully removing the bag from my shoulders. Using the insides of the bag again, I maneuvered the gun around.

“Check it out.” I called to Josh.

He leaned over and peered inside the bag. He narrowed his eyes at me. “You picked it up?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t physically touched it myself. I’ve only used this bag.”

“But why?” He frowned at me. “What are you going to do with it?”

I shrugged. “I just didn’t want to leave it there where some kid could find it.”

“Oh.” He nodded once. “Makes sense.”

“Dude, it was really awesome.” I lowered my voice, a smile creeping over my lips. “The Phantom had, like, this weird sort of...I don’t know, it was kinda like a Force throw, but he used his glove like Iron Man to disarm the Batman kid. It was cool.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I saw it once.”

“Then, he just, like, rolled his hand against the kid, and they stuck together, like these phones do. He flew off with the Batman kid before I had even realized it was him.” I shook my head. “It all happened so fucking fast.”

He patted my knee comfortingly.

“Oh, oh, but the coolest part,” I leaned toward him, “The coolest part was when The Phantom was flying off with this kid, because before you could really even process what was happening, he went fucking supersonic and just, bam, he was gone, carrying Batman off with him. It was so intense.”

Josh’s eyebrows flew up. “Supersonic?”

I nodded. “This man is amazing.”

His eyes rolled involuntarily, his head shaking simultaneously, and he groaned. “Careful. Lucas will undoubtedly shoot you with that gun if he hears you say that.”

I giggled. “You probably have like the hugest crush on him, right?”

He met my gaze, eyes slightly confused. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The Phantom?” I clarified. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a fantasy about that guy. I may be disgusted by the thought of sex, but I can appreciate good-looking people.”

He dropped his eyes, cheeks flushing, and I grinned. “I didn’t see much of The Phantom, his hand only really, but if what they say about hands is true, there’s a lot of this guy.”

He snorted with laughter, shoving me a little as the embarrassment in his cheeks burned brighter. “Ana, you’re terrible.”

“And so right.” I tapped his nose, smiling smugly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to hide that you’ve totally thought about this guy while going at it. You and probably every prepubescent girl in Credence are in the same boat. Own up to it, Joshie.”

His eyes widened, his tongue tripping over his astonishment. “Ana!”

I dissolved into giggles as Josh shook his head, trying to wipe the flush from his cheeks, and Marilyn eased open the front door, her eyebrows arched in amusement.

“What did you do?” She prompted him, and Lucas peered around her shoulder at us.

My body shook with laughter, and I could barely get a word out, leaving Josh to explain, the red quickly returning to his face.

Lucas patted Josh on the top of his head. “It’s okay, Joshie. As much as I dislike the guy, I gotta admit I’ve definitely wanked a few with him in mind.”

Marilyn smacked his shoulder. “Fucking liar!”

“Am not!” Lucas challenged her with a tempting curve to his lips. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about sleeping with the ever elusive and masterful Phantom, baby.”

She huffed and crossed her arms. “Well, of course, I have! But what does that matter?”

He crowed with laughter, his hands sliding around her waist cinched by the tight jumpsuit she was wearing still.

“Ah!” She grimaced, pulling her elbow up to see, and Lucas immediately apologized for accidentally hitting the wound.

“Come on.” I motioned for her to follow me. “Let’s get that taken care of.”

I led her into the bathroom, Lucas shouting through the door where the band-aids were located.

“Unzip.” I commanded her, digging under the sink for gauze, band-aids, and neosporin.

Marilyn carefully tugged her arm out of her sleeve, letting the top half of her costume dangle around her waist again, like she had done at the beginning of the evening, and I slowly rubbed a tiny squirt of the antibacterial gel into the still wet blood. She winced with the sting, and I wrapped a couple large band-aids around her elbow.

“There.” I locked eyes with her. “Better?”

She nodded, half a gentle smile perched on her lips. “Thanks, Ana. For everything. You really...You were awesome. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Given him the drugs.” I answered without hesitation. “I don’t know why you were refusing anyway. It wouldn’t have been the end of the world for you to lose a couple pills just to save your life.”

“Oh, please.” Her eyes flashed. “I was calling his bluff. He wasn’t going to shoot.”

I shook my head. “You took an unnecessary risk. Who knows what he was going to do if The Phantom hadn’t shown up.”

She shrugged, and as she turned to open the bathroom door, her back to me, something caught my eye. I frowned.

“Did he hit you in the back?” I questioned, my fingertips carefully tracing the outline of a bruise on her shoulder.

“What?” She twisted to try to look over her shoulder but then flicked her eyes to her reflection, investigating the greenish bruise peeking out from under the cami she was sporting.

I shook my head then, realizing it would have been too soon for a bruise that fresh to be green already. “What happened?” I asked her, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

She turned to the door, fingers curled around the handle. “I think I ran into something at practice the other day, like, a light or something.”

I ran my thumb over the bruise again, pushing the fringe of the camisole out of the way, and I noticed that the bruise didn’t stop there, snaking further down her back, several other marks branching out from it.

“Marilyn.” I called her name out quietly yet forcefully.

She didn’t answer, and I glanced up at her eyes blinking rapidly, warding off the tears.

“Why don’t you say something?” My stomach was suddenly twisted up in knots, and it hurt so badly to see the ghost of the pain etched across her face.

She cleared her throat and pulled the door open, walking away from me, leaving me standing there and caring.

I padded down the hallway behind her, my throat constricted with tears, and I sniffed them back as I stood in the mouth of the living room. Numb, I watched Marilyn collapse into a bean bag chair, a grin spreading across her pink lips, and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand this fucking world.

Lucas took Marilyn in his arms, leaning over her lap to kiss her lips, and as his lips wandered along her jaw, his fingertips brushed the supple flesh of her breasts, suffocating against the straining fabric of her t-shirt bra.

It all just made me so sick that when I turned my eyes to Josh’s and mimed gagging, I couldn’t even join in his laughter.

“Relax, Mick.” I heard Lucas order me as he patted a hand on my foot. “Sit down already.”

I sunk to the floor and curled my knees up under my chin, resting my chin in between my kneecaps, and I watched Lucas roll back the rug.

“I still can’t believe he fucking saved you.” Lucas grumbled as he packed the bowl. “Goddamn that smooth son of a bitch.”

“Ah, you’re just jealous he saved your girl.” Josh challenged him with a smile, eyebrows arched in mischievous points.

“You got that right.” Lucas huffed. “I really only hate that fucker so much because I want to be him.”

He chuckled and passed the bowl and a lighter to Marilyn, giving her first dibs. “I bet he probably hates his life. It’s gotta suck, being double G’s housekeeping service.”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, pausing to hold her breath. “I think it’d be pretty cool to be a superhero. You have fucking super powers!”

I snorted as Marilyn handed the bowl back Lucas. “There’s nothing super about being a superhero.”

Lucas puffed, the cherry glowing brighter. “Chicks.”

Josh chuckled as my eyes involuntarily rolled.

“Please,” I scoffed, accepting the bowl from Lucas. “How many times has being a superhero actually worked out? It’s a ridiculous get-up that gets you nowhere.”

“You’re helping the greater good.” Josh answered solemnly, waving his hand at me when I offered him a hit.

I coughed on my laughter. “Greater good? I think you grossly underestimate what being a superhero really means.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows arched with genuine curiosity. “Do tell.”

Marilyn choked a little, groaning, “She’s just going to kill the mood, aren’t you, Ana? You seem to have a knack for doing that.”

“The man wants an explanation.” Lucas snatched the bowl from her, gently scolding her. “Let Mick speak.”

I shot him a scowl. “Thanks, I suppose.”

“So, let’s hear it then.” Josh challenged me, his hands planted firmly on his knees.

“Well, as my good friend the Green Goblin put it in the first Spiderman film,” adding in a quiet, fangirly tone, “Aw, man, Willem Dafoe,” I began, “‘Despite everything you’ve done for them, eventually they will hate you.’ You’re just a sacrifice. You’re always the scapegoat, the reason for society to hang their problems on you. You are cursed with whatever power you possess, be it money and a sense of responsibility, a science experiment gone wrong, or an inherited gift from another world, whatever, and because you have the balls to take the blame for society’s problems, because that’s all they really are are just problems, whether they be economic, social, whatever, you get burned at the stake for it all. You are voluntarily offering up yourself for slavery, a legend whispered through teeth that hate you and lips that crave you, and it doesn’t matter how they do it, but they’re only going to devour you.

“You think you’re standing up against evil, you think you’re going to change the world? You’re a fool if you think the world actually wants change. Change? If the world changes, where does the misery go? We can’t complain about our problems that we cause and won’t do anything about. We can’t complain and be miserable. We can’t be content with our dissatisfactory lives. You take that all away from the world, and what do you have left? A system without accountability that you’re forcing to grow a pair. The world doesn’t want to grow up, it doesn’t want to be saved. The world just wants to keep digging itself into a giant fucking black hole, and no matter how hard you push it the other way, you’ll never overcome gravity. You’re merely putting your head on the chopping block, asking for them to cut your throat and spill your blood for their mistakes, so that maybe they can finally be free of the guilt, only to keep doing what they’re doing. You’re not saving the world. You’re sentencing yourself to death by unrealistic optimism, and you’re a damn, fucking fool if you think that’s ever going to change. There’s nothing super about being a superhero. There’s nothing super about anything in this world.”

My voice echoed throughout Lucas’ earth house, and my face was way too hot for comfort.

I didn’t even know why I cared so much.

I watched their silent faces, my own brow furrowed and jaw clenched with fury.

Josh was the first to move, nodding his head.

Marilyn blinked and blew out another stream of smoke. “Yup. Way to go, Ana. You fucking killed the mood, just like I said you would.”

“Shut up,” Lucas chided her quietly.

“You have a really good point,” Josh agreed, his voice soft. “The only flaw in your argument is your point of view.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, confused.

“You’re a pessimist.”

I smirked at the small smile playing on his lips.

He chuckled, and Marilyn shook her head. “Aren’t we all?”

Lucas raised the bowl in a solemn salute. “To disenchantment.”

I laughed, and with the lightening of the mood, we easily dissolved into giggles at each other’s own hilarity and private inner dialogue — except for Josh, who rolled his eyes and groaned.

“All right, guys, I gotta get going soon.” He announced, stretching to his full height and then some as he reached for the ceiling, his lips circling into a yawn.

“Where you headed, big fella?” Lucas prompted. “Got a hot date?”

Josh chuckled. “You wish.”

“I think it’s safe to say we all wish that.” Marilyn grinned at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, no, I have to get back to my uncle’s crazy Halloween party. He wants me to meet people and blah blah blah boring political things. I promised him I’d be there for part of it.”

“A party, you say?” Lucas’ lips twisted into a stupid smile, and Marilyn narrowed her eyes at him, already shaking her head at him.

“Aw, come on!” He whined, leaning into her again.

“No.” She gently objected. “You can’t crash the double G party.”

Lucas rolled over to Josh, pouting up at him. “Please?”

Josh shrugged, another chuckle escaping. “I don’t mind. The party has an open invitation to the citizens of Credence, so you’re technically allowed to go.”

“See?” Lucas teasingly sneered at Marilyn. “I’m invited.”

“Fine.” Marilyn giggled. She turned to Josh. “Is it a costume party?”

Josh nodded. “But it’s probably late enough in the party that it won’t matter if you show up without one."

"Besides," he added, motioning to me and Marilyn, and we exchanged glances. "You two are already good.”

“Well, then.” Lucas sat up, patting his own knee. “It’s settled then. Let’s go to Joshie’s party.”

Josh groaned. “Why did I ever allow you guys to call me that?”

“Because you love us.” Marilyn answered simply, standing and tossing her bag over her shoulder.

“Hey, is it cool if I leave a gun here?” I interrupted Lucas as he twirled Marilyn into him.

He frowned at me. “A gun?”

I nodded. “Yeah, the one the Batman kid tried to use on us.”

He shrugged. “I guess for now.”

“You can keep it for all I care.” I dumped the gun onto the rug.

Lucas shook his head. “Stick it in the box.”

I rolled the rug back and nudged the gun with my foot into the lockbox set into the floor.

“All right.” Josh nodded once. “Let’s get this show on the road. It’s kind of a long haul to my place.”

“Is that why it always takes you a long time to get here?” I questioned as we went out to our bikes napping in the grass.

He shrugged guiltily. “What can I say? Lucas and I live on opposite ends of Credence.”

“Well, whose fault is that?” Lucas jokingly challenged him.

Josh merely rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, and Marilyn waved her hand at them, pushing her bike into motion.

We rode off in a pack under the bright moonlight, but to navigate back through the forest, we all had to use our phones on flashlight mode. It was a race and battle of wits simultaneously as we weaved through the trees and branches. We burst back onto the road, Josh triumphantly in the lead, but the rest of us weren’t surprised, especially seeing how we were much less sober, Josh clicking his tongue at us with mock disapproval, head shaking with a proud smile itching to take over his lips.

It was peaceful, almost, the four of us riding in a line down the street. Most of the people in these parts of town were asleep, or at least at home, and we didn’t pass a single cyclist before reaching the road to go back toward my house.

Several blocks later, we were closer to the heart of the city, back toward where Marilyn and I had gone trick-or-treating along the shops, and the streets were less deserted now, people heading home after the parties.

But a chill settled in the base of my neck, and frowning, I glanced around, searching for the telltale signs of Miracle. It struck me as odd when she was nowhere to be found, but that had been the game she’d been at lately, always off doing her own thing. I didn’t think about it much as we all swung a giant left, and I noticed a familiar figure making her way down the street, perhaps a slight stumble to her step.

“Aunt Terry!” I called out, a smile hanging on my lips as I waved one-handed, but she didn’t seem to hear me.

I biked over a little closer, coming up from behind her, and I called out her name again. This time I reached out, slowing way down so I could talk to her, but as my fingers closed around her arm, they didn’t stop there, collapsing through the air, ice shooting through my veins.

My feet slammed against the pavement, and my bike twisted between my legs, throwing me onto the asphalt.

“Ana!” I heard someone shout after me. “Ana, are you okay?”

I shook my head clear, my stomach dropping faster than a glass of wine — and my heart shattered into a million more pieces.

“No.” I struggled against the lump in my throat, and I thrust myself back to my feet after my aunt.

I raced after her, feeling my legs burn with the long strides, and I spun around to take in her face.

“Aunt Terry.” I stopped her, my hands carefully laid out before me.

Her eyes lowered to mine. They were wide and empty.

I tried to take her hands in mine, but my fingers curled around air again, digging into my palms as I clenched my fists. My stomach twisted up tight, and the shaking began deep inside, somewhere beneath my ribcage.

Hysterically, I called out to her again. “Aunt Terry, please!”

It was then that she focused on me, and she blinked. “I think a bike cop is coming to give you the news.”

“No.” I shook my head, and suddenly arms were wrapping around me.

I needed to sleep.

Brown eyes appeared before me. They were so warm, so full of concern, but I pushed them away, twisting to see my aunt continue down the street. I wanted to go after her. I wanted to reach out to her, just one more time, but I knew it would never happen again.

I suddenly felt so exhausted.

Past her, a police officer on a bicycle made his way down the street in my direction, and sure enough, he braked to a squeaky stop before me.

“Are you Ana King?” He asked, and I shook my head.

“I don’t want to hear it.” I whispered. “Please, don’t-don’t say it.”

His eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Ana, but your aunt is dead. She—”

“Please.” I cut him off. My voice warbled as I repeated, “Please, don’t say it.”

The officer’s lips moved through the crests and valleys of uncertainty, and I yanked myself free of whoever was holding me.

I walked over to my bike, gathered it back up, mounted it, and rode away. I didn’t stop when they showed up alongside me, and I didn’t stop when the words started. I had nothing to say.

I wanted to sleep.

When the tires of my bike hit the gravel in the front yard, I let the bike fall beneath me, and I left it laying there, front tire still spinning. I just kept going. I was almost to my bed. I could make it.

Until I was at the front door to my little hovel.

I glanced back at the meager garden, and my tongue thickened with the tears, my throat swollen shut. Before I was even aware of what I was doing, my foot was swinging backward and then forward again, connecting with the dirt of my garden. Three pairs of hands were there, at my shoulders, my arms, my waist, pulling me back, and I spun into somebody’s shirt, the fabric locked in my fingers, and howled.

I screamed and screamed, my throat raw, and the tears just kept coming, streaking down my stinging cheeks. I felt my knees buckle, and choking and spluttering, sobs heaving and drawing air over my chapped lips, I sunk to the earth.

Oh, how I just wanted to sleep.

My body let go then, and my fingers relinquished the cotton, my neck muscles melted. I pooled into a quaking puddle on the grass, and I couldn’t see a fucking thing, angry tears blurring my vision as it rapidly grew dim.

Arms wrapped around me carried me to my bed, and I pulled them onto the mattress with me, curling into their embrace, the tears giving way to hiccoughs.

“Ana.” Josh’s voice was so soft and low in my ear, and I forced myself to meet his eyes.

I took in the questions rolling through his eyes faster than the tears were rolling down my face. “Yeah?”

My voice was so broken, so hollow — barely a whisper.

“Why were you screaming your aunt’s name before the police officer showed up?” He settled on, eyes quickly flitting from my left to right and back again. “What made you go running across the pavement like that? The fuck got into you?”

I stared at him, lips and tongue dancing around the words I didn’t know how to say, and over his shoulder, Miracle shook her head down at me threateningly.

“I saw something.” I heard my voice admit.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “What? What could have possibly made you freak out like that?”

I peered up into his green eyes.

“I see ghosts, Josh.” That cursed voice whispered across my pillow at him.

His eyes pinched up with confusion and disbelief, hurt creasing his brow. “What?”

“I see ghosts.” I felt my lips repeat.

“Ana,” he started, his voice a strangled cocktail of stern and distrustful. “If you’re fucking with me—”

“I’m not.” I cut him off, my voice just as hard and pointed.

I took in his widening green eyes. “Josh, of all the things I am right now, joking is not one of them.”

My gaze slid past his face to Miracle. Her brow was set with such pure hatred, jaw taught, and her cheeks burned a bright red. With a single finger salute, she disappeared.

I focused back on Josh. Drawing in a breath, my eyes fell closed, and I shook my head, my mind all topsy-turvy, everything swirling around like my head was a fucking tilt-a-whirl.

There was no way any of this was happening.

Josh soothingly whispered some words in my ear, but I couldn’t hear them. I could barely hear my own breathing over the roaring in my mind, all the chaos bouncing off the walls.

I wanted to scream at it all, tell it to calm the fuck down, shut the fuck up — all I wanted to do was sleep, but who the fuck could be resting with all this noise?

How could anyone sleep with all this hell being raised?

Next Chapter: VI. Pandemonium