It rained. Which seemed appropriate. It also thundered which also seemed appropriate though for separate reasons. And Vicky Montgomery asked the boy shivering on his carpet next to the foamy scum of sick —

  [5:43 AM — (VM)] 'Yo Guy! What do you think of this Rosette chick?'

  And The Boy responded.

  [5:44 AM — (TG)] 'Fire an' light an' all that is bright. Wonder an' Magic an' beautiful might'

  And... that was it. That brilliant flare in Jimmy's life where he dated Vicky Montgomery, cheer captain and the most beautiful girl in four grades, ended with a whimper.

  "Oh nonononon —" Jimmy stared in horror at the indelible green text on his screen and wanted to vomit all over again. "NONONONO. Itch. What did you do? Itch!"

  The Itch didn't respond.

  Jimmy reread what he'd written. And then again. He started to write —

  [5:57 AM — (TG)] That came out wrong. I

  But then he deleted it, fo-swearing. He tried again.

  [5:57 AM — (TG)] What I meant was that

  And then he wondered if Vicky was watching the screen and the awkward text-editing icon blinking under his name. He erased it hurriedly.

  "Fudge. FUDGE!" He thumped his head back against the wall — which hurt more than it should have — and squeezed his eyes shut.

  Gingerly, he Felt somewhere deep within him. There was a looseness there now. Something that just yesterday had been as firm as tough leather and that he'd never known to feel before. A gap. A loose thread just dangling there.

  And right next to it, there was another one. It was tenuous. A little fuzzy at the edges in a sea of threads that were somehow more Solid than solid. But at least it was taut. Like piano wire. And its name was —

  "Vicky," Jimmy breathed. He even whimpered a bit. "C'mon, Vicky. Text me back. I didn't mean tha...."

  He had meant that. Just... not the way it came out! Rosette was Fire and Light. She was Magic so Bright. But that didn't mean he had to say it to another girl!

  Jimmy looked at the clock on his bedside table and groaned as [6:07 AM] blinked cheerfully back at him. Vicky still didn't text him back.

  Jimmy hammered out another text and tried not to look at it closely. 'As if that'll change anything!'

  [6:08 AM — (TG)] I didn't mean it like that. I think Rosette is cool

  'Smiley? No Smiley? Will she think I —'

  Jimmy added the smiley. Hit send, and then threw the phone across the room as hard as he could — but not before flipping it to a card as it brushed the tips of his fingers. He wasn't a moron! Just an ever-fudging dipsticking excuse for a —

  "Fuuuuuudddddgggggeeee," Jimmy felt at that thread again. Yup. Still taut. Right next to that dangling looseness which had HURT so much.

  Jimmy didn't think he could describe what he'd gone through even if he was knowledgeable in ten languages. It was just too much. Too earthshakingly More.

  When Jimmy went to break rules, go back on a promise like he'd tried to at Buck's house, tried too hard to swear (in the modern sense), or give back something he'd reappropriated. He'd feel something, almost like a muscle pulling. Or, like he was slowly bending his elbow over the edge of a table the wrong way.

  Big. Horrifying when you try. But... Not like that. Not something that even hinted that that was on the other side.

  'I can't ever go through that again. I can't. I —'

  'Please don't go.' Jimmy thought, squeezing his eyes shut. 'I don't think I could take that again.' Vicky would be so much MORE than a Steed of —

  And on a completely different wavelength Jimmy also thought, 'C'mon, Vicky. You're so cool. And pretty. And you liked my power AND you were interested in Bayes AND....'

  Jimmy really wanted Vicky to text back. 'So lame', Jimmy thought. 'One date and I already care this — fudge'

  He summoned the card back impulsively. It spun back to him in a whirl of auburn and blue, and he un-carded it swiftly and checked.

  Nope. Still nothing.

  "Fudge." He re-carded it back. Then. "I'm a loser". Then. "Okay. Okay."

  Jimmy breathed and took stock of himself.

  His skin was clammy, was what he noticed first. His shirt stuck to his skin and he was pretty certain that if he turned on the light, he'd find that despite having a target the size of his floor, he'd still missed and tagged himself as well.

  His hands trembled as if he hadn't eaten — for obvious reasons — and that loose thread, that missing card... was loose, and it dangled helplessly among all the other threads spinning out into the ether deep inside of him.

  Threads.

  Cards.

  A missing tooth where just a day ago there'd been a wide gleaming smile.

  Pieces of HIM. And one was gone.

  That little, dangling thread hurt numbly — so pale in comparison to what it had been — and it made Jimmy want to burst into tears just contemplating it.

  So he didn't.

  He got up, trembling, even as he heard John Hannon start up downstairs and brushed the wet part of his carpet gingerly.

  Slowly, he spread that thin — so thin — membrane of his power across its surface.

  Slow. Part of Jimmy was gibbering that if he went too fast, It would happen again. So, he went slow and deliberately. 'Even though it's meant to be snap', he thought. A flip of reality. 'Feeeeeel it happening. Make sure there aren't any' — His power hiccuped as he shivered hard — 'tears'.

  'Each carpet-fiber is an edge. Feel the borders. And the surface tension above.' It felt so vast compared to the thinness that he spread over it. A border vast as eternity... but as limited as a puddle. Aaaaaand — SNAP.

  Jimmy felt it flip. Just like it always did. Smooth and natural. Like the twitch of his eye and as effortless as the drumming of his toes on the carpet.

  "I'm fine. Oh, Fudge, I'm —" Jimmy blinked at the crisp new card between his fingers.

  Puddle Of Death's Touch

  Aaaannnndddd it looked like it too.

  The card was watery green with faded black creeping in from the edges and hair thin slices of red, like paper-cuts, dashed across. Somehow that red was tactile, and seemed to encompass the full agonizing experience of a slow slice across skin bathed in fresh lemon juice — and that wasn't even a color! The symbols were jagged and looked like they were embedded in the card rather than adorning it.

  Jimmy felt sick just touching it and pocketed it quickly. He would have left it under his mattress, but something about that notion left him feeling off too.

  His Death's Touch. His — Jimmy felt his diaphragm heave. 'Don't leave your death lying around, Jimmy', he thought. 'Don't —'

  "Okay! No more thinking. No more thinking no more —" Jimmy pressed his fingers into the sides of his head until the pressure started to hurt. "No. More..."

  'Shower. Become a person again.' Jimmy dashed out so he could get to the shower before Kaykes did. He didn't think he was up for explaining any of this.

  He was back a second later to throw open the window to let the breeze waft away the aroma of Deaths Touch. Then he left for real.

  He wanted to explain all of this to his mother even less than he did to his sister.

  "You look like death." His sister greeted him with her patented morning gaze as he stepped out.

  It was a work of art. A slow, unblinking stare which detailed in no uncertain terms that you were wanting, your actions were wanting, and somehow you had woken up with a marked deficit in your goodwill bucket.

  Jimmy met it with a dull stare of his own. "I feel like d —" He bit his tongue hurriedly and watched his sister's eyebrow arch as she noticed. Then arch some more as she noticed him notice....

  Jimmy wiped at his face. "Thank you." He finally bit out. "For last night."

  "You are welcome. What happened last night?" Kaykes yawned. "Also you're blocking the door, and it's depleting my lingering sense of affection.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  "Never mind." Jimmy could smell the coffee downstairs and even John Hannon's commentary on Rosette's Battle for Borderland — that's what they were calling it. The complex she'd effectively destroyed had been called Borderland Apartments — could not staunch his existential need for it right now.

  "Hey!" Kaykes grabbed the back of his shirt as he went to step past. She yawned again, and looked even grumpier than before. "Hold up. Dude. That's not a turtleneck. I know you've got at least one more."

  "They're barely visible."

  "They're barely damning."

  "Oh. Come on!"

  "Barely is still quite a lot! Don't be dumb, Jimmy. Be glad it's still winter."

  Jimmy twisted his lips and made to stalk back to his room, but his sister caught his shirt again.

  Now he was getting grumpy. He wondered whether his gaze was picturesque as his sister's. Probably not. She practiced hers.

  "Oh. And. Ah..." she looked around dramatically. "You haven't... ah... seen my new wallet, have you? I think I left it somewhere. Must have had a grand or something in it...."

  Jimmy blinked at her, nonplussed.

  ...

  "What's the matter with you?" She hissed after a moment. She squinted up at him. "Are you broken this morning? You didn't do something dumb while I was asleep, right?"

  Jimmy didn't say anything.

  "Still hungry?"

  "Famished." He growled.

  They stared at each other. Then Kaykes brushed passed him with a scowl and a flick of her dark locks and stalked into the bathroom for her own shower.

  And Jimmy walked back into his room — it still smelled like death — changed, and then finally downstairs.

  Breaking News! The Fourth Marine Expeditionary Force, redirected to the Red Sea as part of Operation Ardent Fang, has for the first time engaged the Sudanese Warlord's forces. Coalition partners from the United Kingdom and Germany have joined the U.S. in the operation, providing aerial and logistical sup...

  Jimmy had noticed Kaykes' wallet in the bathroom. It had had far more money than he would have expected in it as well....

  It just hadn't felt like anything to him. Just... just some loose bills in a case of shiny plastic. Nothing to see here. Nothing to take.

  Jimmy flickered The Guy's Phone For Illicit Dealings into existence again, and checked it, his heart pounding disproportionately in his chest.

  Still nothing.

  His last text —

  [6:08 AM — (TG)] 'I didnt mean it like that. I think Rosette is cool :)'

  directly below —

  [5:44 AM — (TG)] 'Fire an' light an' all that is bright. Wonder an' Magic an' beautiful might'

  Somehow looked even more awkward and desperate than it did before.

  "Dipsticker." He muttered. "Fudging Di —".

  Jimmy carded it back hurriedly because looking at it was making him cringe and walked into the kitchen to give his mother a good morning hug and accept the mug of coffee she offered in return.

  Then Jimmy staunchly ignored her tilted-head look of concern as he hunched over by himself at the counter and tried to nurse his battered Something back to health with caffeine.

  And the boy tried very hard not to think about how it would feel if Vicky never texted back at all.

  ...ly military reports confirm that the initial engagement involved coordinated airstrikes from coalition aircraft, as well as ground force deployment via amphibious assault vehicles and marks the first major international operation where superhuman threats are being addressed on such a scale.

  Their mother drove them to school. One, because the rain was still pouring down as if it was trying to fill up the valley with water and making it patently dangerous for Kaykes to bike, and two, because Jimmy officially no longer had a bike — 'fudge,' Jimmy rubbed at his eyes — despite having exactly five others sitting safely in his pocket in card-space.

  Every once in a while Jimmy caught his mother peering back at him through the rearview mirror looking concerned.

  Kaykes was too, though her concern manifested in blank looks, sideways glances and sharp elbows to his ribs when she thought their mother wasn't looking. She also texted him — on Jimmy's phone, not The Guys.

  [7:20 AM — (KW)] 'What Happened???'

  And then scowled at him pointedly until he checked his phone. When he didn't respond, her dark eyes lit up with such indignation that Jimmy felt his mouth quirk despite himself, and he rolled his eyes gesturing subtly with his hand that he'd tell her later.

  Kaykes subsided moodily.

  "You two done having your silent conversation back there?"

  Their mother didn't. She was peering back through the rearview again with concern in her dark eyes which looked almost exactly like an older version of Kaykes' own.

  "Is it that girl again? What was her name? Victoria?"

  "Nnnnnn —" Jimmy's tongue tied itself into a knot rather than complete that answer. 'Did that hurt more than it did before?'.

  He tried again.

  "It's noth —" That didn't come out any easier.

  His mother slapped the steering wheel glaring and spun it with enough vigor that it threw a deluge of water into the car window next to them.

  "Mmmkay. Listen, babe. This girl doesn't know what she's got. Don't get so bent out of shape about her. She's not worth it and there are plenty oth—"

  Kaykes snorted. "She's got nice hair, boobs, and legs to die for, Jimmy, but only by fools." Kaykes cracked her knuckles while their mother looked back hazardously.

  "— Exactly!" Their mother's look was approving if not precisely about Kaykes' word choice.

  "— ay the word, bro, and I'll academically end her." Crick-ety Crack went Kaykes' knuckles.

  "I'm not putting out a hit on Vicky because she didn't text me back!" Jimmy hissed at his sister as her eyebrows rose to her hairline.

  He reddened as his own words reached his ears and he glared hotly at Kaykes. He shared some of it with his mother too as he saw her hiding her mouth.

  "What does that mean anyway? 'Academically end her'" Jimmy threw some air-quotes.

  Kaykes ignored him, smirking. "That's what all this is? Girl was probably doing her makeup."

  "She doesn't wear any."

  Kaykes gave him a pitying look.

  "What was the last thing you sent her?" Their mother asked helpfully.

  "Nothing!" This was not technically a lie, Jimmy insisted to the Itch emphatically. Jimmy had sent Vicky exactly nothing since his last text. He squirmed under his mother's quirked eyebrow.

  "It was awkward. I'm not saying."

  Kaykes rolled her eyes and snorted.

  "It probably wasn't that bad, Babe." Their mother was definitely fighting a grin now. "Give it some time, call her up, and sort it out. Honestly dear, confidence tends to be its own lubricant — Oh don't be crass, babe! You're too young!"

  Kaykes was snickering from beside Jimmy and his face was turning red. Their mother speared Kaykes with a glance and rolled her eyes at Jimmy. "All I'm saying is that you both enjoyed yourselves yesterday. Let her know. And let her know that you didn't mean... oh my, what have we here?

  Mom pulled into the parking lot entrance and had to break suddenly to avoid running into the line of cars piling up in front of the school.

  A soldier was walking up holding an umbrella, already motioning for their mother to roll down her window.

  He wasn't really a soldier, Jimmy knew. But he also didn't know what else to call him. He was wearing fatigues under his windbreaker — those digital grey patterned ones that made Jimmy think urban and the rifle he carried would never be passed out to security guards.

  It was big, with a muzzle brake the size of two of Jimmy's hands and components bolted on that could have come straight out of The Go Team which was an action flick with vanishing to no substance but a whole lot of anti-Super gun violence.

  "Pretty sure that's a breech-fed fléchette launcher, Jim." Kaykes muttered, looking grim. She eyed the thick, second module running underneath the barrel speculatively.

  The soldier said something to their mother which Jimmy couldn't hear through the rain, and then she was rummaging around in her purse. She didn't find what she was looking for and looked surprised. They exchanged a few more words and then the soldier was waving them both out of the car.

  "He wants you two to get out here, babes. A new security measure."

  The soldier held up a camera as they opened the door.

  "One at a time. Repeat after me. I, your name, Do not intend physical harm to any member of Eastwall High School, or its staff, or stationed personnel."

  He made a hurry-it-up gesture as Kaykes blinked at him. She repeated it slowly, and then Jimmy went, his heart pounding in his chest — anything that ended in launcher sounded grossly disproportional to Jimmy — but the follow-up questions his brain kept imagining never materialized, and the soldier waved them out looking satisfied.

  "Line up with your schoolmates over there," he motioned to the awning by the entrance to the school proper and moved on to the car which had stopped just behind his mother's.

  Jimmy's mother insisted on kissing them both goodbye — something that Jimmy suffered quickly, hoping no one was watching — gave him a stern look and then a wink — "Be brave, boy" — and then, both he and Kaykes were running with their backpacks through the rain.

  "Really? Mom's wallet?" Kaykes hissed at him. "Mom's?"

  "Yours tasted like stale pasta."

  "You're on a deserted island, and you're quibbling about taste?!"

  "It had the nutritional content of cotton candy, Kaykes, with none of the sugar. Do I need more analogies?"

  "Fuck!" then.... "Did it help?"

  Their mother's wallet. Jimmy shook his head. But his head was going a mile a minute and not in the same direction that Kaykes' was.

  "What the beard-barnacle was that?" Jimmy hissed. He wiped rain from his face as they ran. "I thought you said the Bulwark Act stopped short of AI cold reads!"

  Jimmy saw Kaykes mouth the words 'beard barnacle' slowly.

  She didn't say anything until they'd almost reached the throng of students, and then she eyed a pair of freshly installed cameras pointedly.

  "That" Kaykes recited, "Was a prime example of AI Driven Truth Detection which is allowed. He is from a sharp team. Something's changed. Bet it's your new idol."

  Jimmy eyed her and she rolled her eyes. "S.H.R.P, Jim. Super Human Response Personnel. What do you think they're gonna call it?"

  "I know what it means. You think this is because of Rosette?" he hissed and looked around to make sure their conversation was still private.

  He needn't have. They were two teenagers sprinting through the rain and everyone near them was doing exactly the same thing, and caring little at all about anything that did not involve shelter and possibly a towel.

  "I think, you've still got those rosy tinged glasses on, bro." Kaykes responded in her normal voice. "If I could disappear every Super around Eastwall right now, I would. There's far too much heat here. Look at that."

  Kaykes gestured with her chin to their right where another fatigued — woman this time — wearing a camouflage parka was leaning against a nondescript car whose only identifying feature was the unusual number of antennae sticking up from the roof.

  The woman waved at Kaykes as they passed while her other hand tapped against the black haft of her rifle absently.

  Kaykes waved back and looked like she was trying to make her grimace look like a smile. "That's another Fléchette Launcher, dude. And look. She's got reloads at her hip with different colored bands on them. So they're not even all the same."

  Kaykes tossed her chin length hair, flinging water into Jimmy's eyes as he gawked. He got a wave too and the smile the soldier graced him with was cheery.

  "They fling darts the length of my hand at supersonic speeds, bro. And look at those two, they're packing Hit-Em attachments."

  Hit-Em was apparently colloquial for HEEDM — High Energy Electrical Discharge Modules — which were wireless tasers, but sized for African elephants. Or, very, very durable Supers.

  ".... Ok. That is definitely overkill... I'm pretty sure a normal taser would more than..."

  "Exactly. But you know who might take a Hit-Em to the face and keep coming?" Kaykes tapped her chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Gee, I wonder...."

  "But she's a hero!"

  "She's a Super. Who walked through four stories of heavily armed gang-bangers."

  But by that point they'd joined the throng of student congregating under the awning in front of the front doors, and Kaykes peeled off for a group of girls who were waving her over.

  "Jim!" Nate hailed him "Hey, move over, he's with me."

  Jimmy joined his friend distractedly as Nate nudged some space for him and pointedly ignored the complaints.

  "Dude, did you see the duds? Damn, they're sharp."

  Jimmy eyed him balefully. "Nice."

  Nate grinned widely. "There are like three here with fléchette launchers and the rest have got Hit-Em attachments."

  "Since when did you become an expert on counter Super..."

  Nate grinned and waved his cell. "I asked Kayla-chan. Girl's a treasure tro —"

  One of the people Nate had nudged out of the way nudged back, and his nudge sent Nate reeling back into the group next to them.

  Jimmy's response died as Buck Higly rolled his thick shoulders and grinned.

  Buck Higly... was big, Jimmy remembered all. Over. Again.

  There were refrigerators less broad and rhinoceri with less mass, and when he smiled, it sent Jimmy's heart, which was already vibrating with nerves, into an encore. There was enough bare steel laden in that smile to light up a metal detector.

  "It's Wallace, right?" He said easily, and then he walked through a metal detector, which made a sound no more frightening than an elongated beep, and Buck was asked to walk back through a second time, this time, sans his wallet and keys.

  "Let's get to Physics." Jimmy muttered, helping a softly cursing Nate, back to his feet. And he tried not to think about all the reasons why Buck Higly, star quarterback of Eastwall's football team, and Vicky's former territorial and violent boyfriend might know his — Jimmy Wallace's — name.