In the Ghost's Shadow

Chapter 1:

Project

Tish despised him, and for some reason, Brick was all about her. He’d arrived on campus early for the slim chance of snagging a seat near her. Why was he still enamored with Tish when they’d never had so much as a thrilling conversation? Was it hope, habit, or obsession? Because the answer remained a mystery, he settled for something simple: just because.

Regardless of how she treated him, she had been the first person in a long time to capture his heart. Perhaps he was a borderline masochist? Maybe he wanted someone unattainable, so they stayed alive, unlike Fritz and Kaylen?

The events from two weeks ago were fresh and painful. His genetic enhancements hadn’t been enough to save his ex-lover’s life. The staccato beat of automatic weapons fire. The whine of the electric Hummer as he pushed it to its limits through the Myanmar rainforest. How the blood burst into a crimson cloud, surrounding Fritz as he fell. The rage that took hold, suppressing all other emotions. The darkness that took its place. The unexpected success of his invention was that it roasted the executioners alive even after they jumped into the nearby lake. However, it did nothing to assuage his guilt and grief. Exterminating the Russian general and his supposed elite guards had been child’s play, but something troubling had occurred, which disturbed him.

When Brick used his powers, the energy was normally warm and full of light, and he remained calm and emotionless through the altercation. However, boundless wrath filled him after Fritz’s death, and he vented that rage on those responsible. That energy had been cold, Stygian, and limitless as it fed on his emotions. Instead of dissipating after the battle, the need for vengeance had invited or, perhaps, created a dark seed in his body, which had taken up residence behind his solar plexus.

It lay dormant for the time being. But he’d touched it with his mind during his trip back to the United States and discovered an orb smaller than a needlepoint, possessing infinite power within. The energy’s dark affinity initially concerned him, yet it emitted neither evil nor good, only unlimited potential. So, like the other skill he’d hidden from his family, he kept it to himself.

An internet search yielded no results regarding the seed, but this did not surprise him. His predicament was unique. Hell, his mere existence defied belief, so why wouldn’t he manifest an anomaly that also eluded explanation? It’s too bad his birth didn’t come with an instruction manual.

Perhaps he should give up on Tish before she became a victim of his family’s vendetta. Like Fritz. Like Kaylen.

Brick gazed at his barely recognizable reflection in the science hall doors’ mirrored surfaces, his nose puffing wisps of steam as each breath failed to thaw the frigid winter air. He had no idea when he’d arrived at the door or how long he’d stared at the doppelgänger in the looking glass.

It was fortunate that he came early so that no one might witness his psychosis. Though, to be fair, other people’s opinions never mattered to him. It may improve his image as the wimpy, pacifist nerd-freak and possibly earn him the weirdo title. It was a poor cover, like Clark Kent’s glasses, and the reason for secrecy was almost nonexistent.

Hiding was pointless after Brick’s family made their stand in Colorado Springs. Their enemies knew where they were but had not moved against them in nearly four years. He hoped the nameless organization would show up, since they owed him a bucket of blood for their actions. Without thinking, he clenched his fists; the nails biting into his palms.

Let them come, Brick thought. Let them discover me, the culmination of their grand experiment, and I’ll make them pay for what they’ve done to my family.

He opened his eyes, having no recollection of closing them. The image peering back at him had only a passing similarity to what he considered normal. The fading traces of wrath had stiffened the medium-brown skin on his face and neck, and anguish had stolen the light once present in his dark brown eyes.

He was neither handsome nor ugly. He was a little over average height and concealed his lean muscles beneath layers of oversized clothing to preserve his disguise, minus the Clark Kent glasses. For Brick, that would have been a bridge too far.

He closed his eyes again and sighed, trying to dispel his foul mood lest it awaken the dark seed. When he forced his fingers to wrap around the door handle, the cold thrust pain into the bleeding crescents in his palms. No matter. If I hurt, I’m alive.

Despite his feelings for Tish, he had to let her go. Of course, he’d never had her in the first place. Still, he needed to move on, but what would that do to him? Would he, like his father, retreat from the world? No. Mara wouldn’t allow it. She’d kick his ass if he tried. The thought brought a smile to his face. He’d be fine as long as he had his sister. She gave him the courage to walk through the doors and into his Combined Sciences 401 class to begin his final semester of college.

When Brick entered the amphitheater-like auditorium, Tish and her entourage of soul-sucking sycophants had already claimed their seats, building a near-impenetrable wall around her. He struggled to maintain his smile as she turned her head and said hello to him, but it did shrink to a reasonable replica of a smirk without the power of sarcasm to back it up.

Her followers swiveled their heads his way, as if they were a single entity, staring at him with the soulless, blank eyes of androids. At least, that’s what he imagined. He sat towards the center of the room, four rows above and almost directly behind Tish. The buffer of space and people should be sufficient to keep him from falling off the wagon during the first step of his version of the AA, the After-Tish Anonymous twelve-step program, assembly of one.

She rose, walked to the central aisle, and then up the stairs, stopping at the end of Brick’s row. After pausing for a moment, she approached him. He was too stunned to do anything but stare as her cinnamon-colored eyes perused him. She gazed, not glared, and offered him a smile for good measure. Searching for malice, he found none. It was truly bizarre.

Except a memory sprang to mind. She’d been almost cordial during the final couple of weeks before winter break. Her eyes hadn’t ridiculed him, and disdain hadn’t tainted her words when she’d talked to him. He’d dismissed it as holiday spirit.

This thick-bodied gymnast smiled down at him, dressed in an alluring yet casual ensemble of dark blue distressed jeans and a basic, purple, form-fitting, long-sleeved tee. Tish was a handsome woman. While her looks narrowly evaded classic beauty, her intelligence, charisma, and scathing wit set her apart from other women. Her lush, waist-length, wavy black hair and medium-brown skin tone represented a blend of her African and South Asian heritages.

“Too late again, Brick. I tried to make room, but the others rushed in and surrounded me. Sorry.”

“You’ve never been sorry before. What’s different now?” He regretted that he didn’t exorcise the sarcasm from his voice. A few gasps from the peanut gallery floated upward, disturbing the silence.

Either she didn’t catch it, or she chose to ignore his snark. “I wanted to speak to you before class. I was hoping you’d call me back before the semester started.”

“Call you back?” Curiosity drove Brick’s eyebrows toward the bridge of his nose. Her sycophants began murmuring among themselves. He filtered out their banter.

Tish cocked her head to the side. “Yah. I called and left messages.”

One of his brows raised against his will. “Messages? Plural?”

“Yah.”

Searching for irony in her reaction, he found none. He retrieved his phone from his book bag and examined it for the first time since returning from Myanmar. She had indeed phoned him several times and left messages. Then, the internal whys, hopes, and desires followed, which he shoved aside with great difficulty.

Brick restrained his emotions and responded, determined to stay the course. “Oh. Sorry about that. I was unreachable. I spent the holidays in the wilderness.”

At the very least, it wasn’t a lie. He despised lying and had advanced to grandmaster level in truth-stretching. Of course, the philosophy did not apply when he was on mission. Everything was on the table in the field.

Tish raised her eyebrows. “Oh. No service?”

He struggled to maintain a flat tone. “Not even close.”

“Didn’t you check your messages when you got back?” She glanced at a student descending the stairs and nodded at him.

“No reason. You have to have friends and family to get messages, and the only ones I have live in the same house as I do.” Brick glared at the guy who leered at Tish’s rear end as he passed.

Despite his best efforts, he felt himself tumbling from the wagon. How did she manage to disarm him without even trying?

The Earth must have begun tilting off its axis because her voice expressed sympathy. “I had no idea. Sorry.”

Brick’s brain had a hard time accepting what his senses told him. What in the hell is going on?

“Not your problem. What can I do for you, Tish?”

She was like a bottle of vodka sitting before an alcoholic. No. She was more like a fine vintage cognac or a well-aged single malt Scotch.

He pondered. Did I just call her an old woman? Well, it’s better than reducing her to outdated male stereotypes like eyes, lips, hair, and breasts. Isn’t it? Maybe?

“We don’t have time to go into it right now, Brick, but please keep an open mind about me. Please? Yes, I’ve been a bitch to you, but if you give me a chance, I’d like to try and make up for it.”

Though he squinted his eyes, inside his heart leaped. “I don’t know.”

What in the world is going on? Is she from Htrae, Superman’s alternate reality world? Is this some Bizarro-Tish I’m dealing with?

She smiled. “Trust is difficult for both of us, but with time, perhaps we can find a way. What do you say?”

He shook his head. “I’ll think about it. It’s too abrupt, and I’m not sure I understand your motives.”

He anticipated anger in response but found reason.

“I’d expect nothing less from the second-biggest brain in the school.” The corner of her mouth tilted up.

She was joking with him?

“Gotta visit the Rink. Bye for now.”

Now I know the script done flipped up in here. Or it hasn’t, and she’s trying to punk me.

As she made her way back to the steps, disaster struck. Tish began to fall. Perhaps her foot hooked one of the seat mounts. Brick wouldn’t allow her to hurt herself, even if it meant revealing his abilities. He shifted into hyper mode. His boosted senses and reaction time let him perceive Tish’s plummet as if it were an ultra-slow-motion cut scene, no music, though. He examined the entire classroom. No one was looking their way, so he took a chance.

From his perspective, he stood, strolled over to her, climbed over the seats until he was directly in front of her, fell to one knee, and positioned himself to catch her. The droids forming her shield rotated their heads, mouths open and eyes wide.

Martial arts and gymnastics training had taught her how to fall, and she had already started twisting to make contact with her shoulder rather than face-planting or risking a broken arm to catch herself.

Despite her excellent physical condition, he didn’t want to risk dislocating her shoulder by grasping her arm from behind. Disengaging hyper once he was in position, she fell into his waiting arms as her startled squeal pierced his ears.

“What the hell?” Tish attracted the full attention of her group.

A light breeze ruffled her hair, but Brick didn’t think she noticed. Even though his abilities violated the principles of physics, some components of science refused to be denied.

Smiling, he focused on Tish’s face. “Are you all right? Seems as though the chair jumped out and tripped you.”

“Wait. How did you... But you were... What the hell, Brick?”

“You made me think of the Rink, so I was behind you. I guess you didn’t see me.” Again, not a falsehood, but stretching the truth to its technical limit.

“But... But... Oh, forget it. Thank you, Brick. That would have been a bad fall.”

Tish lay in his arms, her back resting on his knee. She looked up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, smiling.

One side of her mouth curled upward. “Well, you could lift me up… or something.”

With the last two words, her broad smile turned predatory yet seductive, destroying any residual thoughts of giving up on her.

Gasps echoed around the room from the twenty or so students now populating the space. Brick struggled to remember exactly when they’d shown up. Had they witnessed his heroics? Was his cover blown now? He found he didn’t care. Tish was in his arms.

“And if I choose the or something?”

Her eyes sparkled. “It could be wild and wonderful; I might draw blood or maybe both. You willing to take the risk?”

Now, this was more like his Tish, minus the claws. He liked this version.

Brick, the operative, would not hesitate and wear the consequences as badges of honor, but the nerd would not. To protect his cover, he stood up and helped her back to her feet.

Her smile vanished, replaced by an expression he couldn’t place, but it appeared to be disappointment. There was no way to tell for sure because they seldom hung out. Despite being able to read strangers in the field in less than a minute, he had no idea how to read her. He’d either built up mental blinders when it came to the woman before him, or she had some serious mojo.

Tish’s shoulders drooped. “That’s too bad. I wish I knew what I would have done.”

Brick’s ears warmed, and the flush ran down the back of his neck. “Wait. You didn’t know?”

Having lost interest in them, the gallery’s chatter lowered to a more normal level.

“It would have depended on how good you were. Well, I’m off to the Rink. Coming?”

Brick shook his head, wondering why she was so focused on him. “Nope, changed my mind.” It couldn’t be because he’d sav—.

Tish darted in and kissed him on the cheek before flying up the stairs, yelling over her shoulder, “Thanks again!”

Okay, so maybe that did have something to do with it.

As Brick swept his fingertips across the place of contact, he discovered a little moisture from her lips remained. Forcing the grin from his face, he dried his fingers on his jeans.

***

Everyone dubbed the restrooms in the Phinegan T. Jarvis science hall, The Rink, when a group of kids, who had much too much time and creativity, executed a stunt three years ago. Earlier in the semester, they completed a fluid dynamics segment and a chemistry session on theoretical refrigerant formulas and decided to put theory into practice.

Someone who shall not be named spent a sleepless night testing a solution that came to him in a dream and solicited the assistance of two other genius students. They flooded the co-ed restrooms and sprayed the water with the freezing solution invented by the unknown student. In less than a minute, it froze into an almost undetectable, ultra-slippery barrier. Classes started around a half-hour later. After three hours and various hilarious mishaps, the ice dissolved into a swiftly dispersing cloud of steam, leaving a fine crystalline powder on the floor that easily washed down the drain.

No one ever discovered any evidence revealing the identity of the perpetrators, and nobody claimed responsibility. Campus security dropped the case because no students or faculty were seriously injured. So far, stories of the epic stunt have survived three years and may become an urban legend of the science building. At the very least, the unnamed one hoped so.

***

Brick sighed again as he sank back in his chair. Wasn’t it his luck that just as he was about to let Tish go, she up and dumped a block of C4 in his lap and shoved a deadman’s detonator into his hand?

Though deep in meditation about recent occurrences, he kept a subconscious awareness of his surroundings for his safety. While it had little effect on his stream of thought, Brick noticed when Tish returned, and his classmates filled the room. So, Professor Sandra Brennan Ph.D. called the class to order.

The same part of Brick acknowledged that the professor had announced the class project she’d revealed to him the night before. However, the majority of his intellect was still engaged in solving the puzzle of Tish’s abrupt evolution.

His senses noted an uncharacteristic reduction in sound within the classroom. Alarmed, he retreated from his cerebral meanderings and entered an aural vacuum where a pin drop would have sounded like a thunderclap. He brought the rest of his thoughts back into the world, only to discover that all the students in the classroom were staring at him… every single one of them.

Brick’s nerves pinged like a Geiger counter as he scanned from left to right. “What? What did I do?”

Of course, the pout had to look so blasted adorable on Tish. “You completely ignored me, Mason Redstone. I chose you as my project partner, and you just sat there staring at the wall.”