Chapter 25

No matter what I do, the chunk of memory from that night is gone. Corrupted,

just like Vista does to your hard drive. The official story is that everything’s a blank

from the time Maharin got inside my head to the point I showed up and was myself again.

Yeah, that’s not totally true. Then again, it’s not totally false.

I don’t remember what happened. Consciously. Subconsciously, some parts of

me remember how to take something or someone apart. I touch a building and can feel

the girders and support beams, and this doesn’t require phasing or anything. Every time I

treat a patient, I somehow know how to make them better, but I also know how to make

them a lot worse.

Who knows what our subconscious selves know.

The night this all happened, I came back to consciousness in a grove of trees near

the business school. I remember being totally disoriented, like I didn’t know who I was,

where I was, what had happened, or pretty much anything else. Thanks to the dark, I

couldn’t see my skin or else that might have sent my mind spinning a bit. I was just

sitting on the ground, a nice bed of leaves, and staring at the ground.

I actually don’t remember any of that. The first conscious thought I recall is that

of purring. All around me, I felt the purring of a cat. The first thing I saw was a gray

fluff moving about, almost like a living shadow. I watched the blur for a while, but then I

saw a pair of yellow globes staring up at me. I looked into it’s eyes as it pawed gently at

my hand.

“Where am I?”
 Now, I don’t remember it speaking, but I could have sworn that cat told me to

relax.

“What happened?” Note – I don’t remember saying this out loud. I might have.

I didn’t think it was weird to talk to a cat either. I do it all the time at work.

The cat just kept asking me to relax. As I did, I started coming to my senses. I

remembered that Ryan and Rachel were in trouble. That’s when I jumped to my feet and

noticed the trees and leaves and stuff.

Are you ok? That’s from the cat.

“I don’t know? Where are my friends?”

Follow me. The cat ran off down through the trees. I sprinted after it. Not long

after, I could see the flashing lights of the ambulance as the paramedics loaded Ryan

inside.

“Thanks!”

You’re welcome.

The cat ducked into some bushes and I ran to the ambulance. I never saw that cat

again, but since then, cats have given me a once over anytime I pass by. They also don’t

notice if my skin’s a black mess. Or maybe they just don’t care.

Paramedics are a different story. A few of them almost had a heart attack when

they saw me. They might have relaxed a bit when I talked to Ryan, but not by much. As

they were leaving, I said I’d follow and meet them at the hospital.

I think I heard one of them say, “Oh god, why?”

Another ambulance took Rachel to the hospital. I offered to ride in her

ambulance, but she just shook her head.

 It isn’t a long walk from the sculpture garden to the hospital, but with the thoughts

going through my head, it felt way longer than the normal fifteen or twenty minutes. The

cops told me about all I’d done, how I killed Maharin, but that they could wait till later to

take a statement from me. None of them ordered me to come to their station, and they

seemed awfully eager to head off and do anything else.

I noticed a few people wandering about campus during my walk. They all ran as

soon as they saw me.

I’m sure it was due to my skin. I finally took a look at my reflection against a

window. Damn, it looked bad. Even without it though, seeing a guy wandering about

with shredded clothes probably would have caused a similar reaction. I can’t blame

anyone for running.

But as bad as this was, my friends were hurt. And to make it worse, they were

scared of me. I tried to think of a way out, but I didn’t have anything.

The only person who didn’t run away was a photographer who shot a picture as I

entered the hospital. This was the one that made it onto the Times and every other

newspaper front page across the planet.

Inside the hospital, the nurses seemed to want to run, but they often were trapped

in booths or behind the desk.

“Excuse me, I need to know how my friends are doing.”

“I’m sorry,” said a nurse. “We don’t uh, normally give out information. You

need to ask the doctor.”

“I need you to find out for me. Please.”

 “Uh, ok, right away.” The nurse ran from me. I thought there was not way she’d

be back. But a few minutes later, she reappeared. I think I saw a doctor whisper

something to her and push her towards me before bailing down a hallway.

“What’d you find?”

“Your friends, one Mr. Douglas and our Dr. Hoffman, the professor?”

“Yeah, there’s another too. Kevin Hernandez. Have you heard anything?”

“Mr. Douglas is being treated for frost burns. Eventually, he’ll need severe skin

grafting. Dr. Hoffman suffers only minor injuries, physically, but she appears to have

undergone severe mental trauma.”

“But Kevin?”

“She also told me to tell you that Kevin’s dead. She says it wasn’t your fault.”

That was the first time I ever lost a good friend. My memory’s kind of blurry

after that, but I know I stormed around the hospital for a while. Eventually, I stood

outside and alone.

No one came anywhere near me.

I sat down on a stone step and sighed.

The next thing I noticed was a small object sailing at my head. I caught it – a cell

phone.

“Your brother wanted me to give that to you.”

I looked up to see Brad standing nearby. He seemed as relaxed as always, and not

at all surprised by my appearance. Then again, he was the only person standing near me.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“I’m not sure, but he’ll probably let you know.”

 Just then, the phone buzzed with a text – Meet me at the capitol. Yeah, the one in

Washington DC. “What the hell is this?”

Brad didn’t even look down when he said, “I think your brother wants to meet up

with you.”

“Just like that? After disappearing? After breaking out of prison?”

“He is your brother. What would you like to do?”

“How am I even getting to Washington?” I pulled out what was left of my wallet,

keys, and cell phone. Them, like my clothes, didn’t quite phase out with me, and were

completely shredded to pieces.

Brad didn’t look concerned. “Let me take you to the airport. I’m sure they’ll

work something out.”

As usual, Brad knew. He always knows. The first sunshine of morning cracked

the sky during the drive. That meant that morning paper deliveries and newscasts

covered the city. That meant that my face, in its current state, was now quite famous.

I realized this when I stepped out of Brad’s car at LAX. A few skycaps took one

look at me, yelled something that didn’t really make sense but seemed really freaked out,

and bolted away. The terminal sat pretty empty this early in the morning, but a minute

after I entered, a group of security surrounded me.

Sort of. They kept their distance, making it more like I had a halo of people

surrounding me. A few of the airport cops held their guns, though they looked more

confused than anything. Their captain yelled at them, “Put that shit away. Didn’t you

hear the news? Nothing hits this guy.” They lowered their guns, but some of them still

clutched their pistols with a death-grip.

 Unfortunately, the police were the only people in this terminal, so I went around

the airport until I finally found a manned counter. The lady behind the desk froze when I

approached. I blame the cops.

Before I could reach her, the captain asked me, “What do you want.”

“I need a plane ticket.”

“Ok, wait here. I’ll take care of this.”

“I think I can ask her myself.”

The captain sprinted for the counter, arriving before me. He said something to the

lady, but I’m pretty sure she didn’t hear a word from him.

My question was a lot simpler. “I need a ticket on your next flight to Washington

DC.”

I wonder what my expression looked like, trashed skin and all. The lady froze for

a moment, but once she looked down at her screen, she seemed to be typing quickly. Not

sure if she was looking for a flight for me or just calling for more help. I distinctly

remember hearing her whisper to the captain, “This is the Spellcaster.”

A few minutes later, she looked up and said, “We have a plane for you.” Security

led me past the metal detector and other gates and right onto the tarmac. A 737 sat alone,

away from everything else. A few fire trucks sat around the plane’s vicinity along with a

line of police cars. Yeah, they sure trusted me a lot.

But it did get me a free flight into DC. Of course, there were no stewardesses or

anyone else on my flight. The pilots stayed locked inside their cockpit. I yelled to them,

“Hey, are we cool? I don’t want you flying me to the middle of nowhere and then bailing

out.”
 I heard a yell back. “We’ll fly you to Washington DC, just like you want. We

won’t give you any trouble, but regulations say we can’t open this door either.”

I could have just walked through the door, but I gave them the benefit of the

doubt. During the flight, I raided every fridge on the plane. They had peanuts, lunch

boxes, sandwiches, and with no one to serve me, I just helped myself to as much as I

wanted.

I received a similar reception from security at Dulles. The plane landed, rolled

away from the terminals, and I got dumped outside on the tarmac. Guards watched me as

I headed out to the street.

But this time, the public had a different response. Security had to clear a path for

me as people shot pictures with cell phones and yelled, “Hey, Spellcaster, over here!”

A guy got through the cops and came up to me with a pen and paper. “Can I get

your autograph?”

I signed it for him, but I wonder if he was disappointed that it read Steve Shao?

Or maybe my writing’s so bad that it could have said Spellcaster?

But yeah, I guess a little destruction brings a lot of infamy, and infamy has always

been one big element of fame. Most of the people didn’t seem scared to see me either.

Maybe excitement got the better of them.

The taxi driver didn’t get the memo. When I walked towards his cab, he took one

look at me and jumped out of his car. Not a problem. I just took his cab to the Capitol

and left it outside. As I went up the steps, I saw another cab pull up and the taxi driver

jump back into his car. Guess it’s good to have friends.

The secret service met me outside the Capitol. “I’m sorry, you can’t go in there.”
 “Why not? I’m a citizen?”

“You are not allowed inside. Now move along.”

“I’m just looking for my brother, and what are going to do anyway?”

These were the only guys not to bolt when they saw me coming. Of course, it

wasn’t too hard to push them aside. I knew all of them pulled guns on me, but none of

them fired. Maybe they’d gotten the memo that I couldn’t be hurt? Maybe me

wandering about looking for my brother wasn’t exactly a threatening stance. “Hey,

anyone see my brother? He looks like me, except…” Oh yeah, I looked like hell. He

looks like how I normally look. That wasn’t much help.

I wandered to a heavier set of doors guarded by a group of serious secret service

agents. Now most of the agents are serious, but these guys took it to a whole new level.

“Turn around now.”

“Or what?”

They all moved back their coats, showing sub-machine guns. “Turn around

now!”

I think it surprised them a bit when I didn’t even seem to care. At least that’s

what I thought for a second. Then a voice came from behind me. “Or what? Are you

going to shoot my brother?”

I turned around and shouted, “Ok, I’m here. Now what? Are you turning

yourself in?”

Dave didn’t hear me. He was too busy taunting the agents. “Come on, big man,

all tough-guy with that MP-5. You going to stop us from talking to the senators? You

know they’re all just stealing our taxes, right?” He pushed a few of them right in the
chest as he walked by. “Come on, anyone want to take on the champ? I kicked the asses

of all your Fed buddies. Let’s see what you’ve got!”

Yeah, secret service agents don’t like that. They all whipped out their guns and

leveled them at my brother. Everyone else in the area ran for the door.

“Whoa, hold on,” I said. “We can talk about this.”

“The only talking that’s going to happen is with my foot up their asses!”

“Shut up, Dave!”

“These pussies won’t do shit. Watch.” Dave proceeded to throw a trashcan at the

agents. They returned fire, filling his body with lead.

I’m not sure what happened next. Maybe it was a reflex to seeing my brother go

down. I think I yelled, “No!” I do know that I shot a pair of flaming dragons from my

fists and trashed the area.

When I regained my senses, every wall and door around was either destroyed or

crumbling or burning. The agents peeked out from behind cover at me, and a lot of their

clothing still smoldered. Flames still covered my hands, but since no one made a move at

me, the fires went out.

I glared at all the agents. “Come on, bitches. How tough are you now? Don’t

you got the balls to play with some real competition?”

One agent tried to come around the wall. I threw a block of concrete at him,

smashing through the wall, and agents scattered like cockroaches.

“Come on, what are you waiting for. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.

Finish what you started!”

 I could hear the buzzing of walkie-talkies and panic in all their voices. None of

them knew what to do.

But then I felt a hand pat me on the back. I spun around, ready to strike, but I

stopped just as quick. It was Dave. His face and clothes were covered with blood, but he

was standing and seemed unhurt. He wiped his face with his sleeve, and there wasn’t a

single cut on it.

Now, I was as confused as the Agents. I think I said something, but it didn’t

make much sense.

Dave patted me on the shoulder. “Come on, bro, let’s go in.”