A Hero in the Dark: 2nd Edition

Chapter 103: Search and Rescue

~ Number Four's POV ~

"What do you mean you don't know?!"

"I mean exactly that," Colonel Archibald reiterates. "Nine didn't tell me anything either. I thought he had his teaching duties. It wasn't until this morning that Malcolm told me he and Emily took a trip to Florida unannounced."

I sigh. Of all the irresponsible... of all his bravado... he had to do something like this—with Em! She doesn't even know what's going on! Hell, just a week ago, she was in a coma! I'm going to kill him for this.

"Why the hell did they go to Florida?!" I ask. "And what's Malcolm got to do with this?"

"Something about the Foundation, I believe, or about getting his students back—I wish I knew. Malcolm wouldn't tell me much more."

"Oh, for the love of Lore," I grumble, not saying a word further and instead storming straight past the man for Malcolm's office.

I only teleport when I'm out of the redheaded man's sight, then knock on the door. When he doesn't answer, I speak up, fuming with fury, "Malcolm? Malcolm, open the door!"

He doesn't. No one does. It's quiet on the other side. I teleport over with a tap of my foot—it helps that I've been in his office before to know what it looks like.

He's not here. It's empty. Damn it. Malcolm, where the hell are you?!

Relax, John. I'm teaching a class. Why? What's the matter?

What's the matter?! I sigh. Isn't it obvious?! Emily! Where's Emily?!

I don't hear anything else until a minute passes. I don't have time for this! Come to Lab 14, he says, finally. I'll spare a moment and bring you up to speed.

I do as he says and teleport in a flash, knock on the door in a sheer haste, to which he answers within the minute and five, ten, twenty heads turn to stare at me in unison, though I be sure to keep my gaze on the scientist. "Where is she?" I spit.

Malcolm waves a hand through the air, turning back into his lab. I assume he's inviting me in, so I follow, shut the door, and wait. I wish he didn't keep me hanging. "And here," he says, "is what distress looks like when something is out of your control. It's why we do our best to learn everything we can about your Legacies, to train you, to make sure you can control your urges under deep upset or heat of the moment." Oh, so now he's continuing with his lesson?! What am I? A science experiment?! "Notice the light in Mr. Smith's palms. Despite having developed his Legacy of Lumen expertly well, it only takes one instance, one drawback, one hard and strong emotion to bring it out, no matter how well you're trying to keep it under wraps."

I scowl at him and flick my Lumen off. Okay, so I've been a little impulsive on my entry; that doesn't give him the right to show me off to his class. "Enough," I spit. "Tell me where she is, Malcolm," I demand. "Where did she and Nine run off to? Why didn't they say anything and why is everyone keeping me in the dark?"

"Can you talk to animals?!" a kid shouts at me from the back of the class, though he's quickly hushed by his peers. "What? I heard he can talk to animals, or you know, hear what they're saying or something. I want to know for sure."

"Yes, he can," Malcolm answers, keeping a hardy glare on me. "But this is irrelevant now. Everyone, open your notebooks and think about your own Legacies in comparison to John Smith's. I'd like you to answer the following question: How do physics and impulsivity relate to my Legacies? Chat with each other and keep in mind what we've learned over the past few weeks." He gestures out to the hall at me, and I follow his route.

"You know," I say once it's just the two of us, a note of both resoluteness and remorse in my voice. "Don't you?"

"Nine told me he was going out to find his students," Malcolm admits, finally. "He asked me to make sure they're doing their exercises in his own classes."

"And he took Emily with him?"

"I have no idea."

"Bullshit," I say, but I feel a little bad for letting myself slip further. "I think you do. Please, tell me where they are. Tell me where I can find her."

"I really don't know, John," he says. "I believe he's starting his search in Florida. He has some sort of lead there, I think—but Nine's given me no indication that he was taking Emily on the trip. As far as I know, it was a solo mission."

"A mission," I repeat, barely in question. "That's what he's calling it? What is this? Search and rescue, California-mode? This isn't a game! I'm certain he took Emily with him, Malcolm; there's no other reason for why they both disappeared like this."

"John, you need to calm down," he says, but that doesn't make me calm down at all. Far from it. "Nine is well-aware of what he's doing. He can handle himself. He should be back before dusk tonight, and if you're right—if he did take Emily—then she'll be back too."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. As much as I want to believe him and trust that Nine knows what he's doing, I can't. "He couldn't even prevent his students from running away from campus to start! How am I supposed to believe she'll honestly be ok with him?! She just came out of a coma!" I'm spiralling, I know I am, and I'm lightheaded because of it, and it certainly isn't helping that my Lumen won't stay off long enough. But shit; I might never see her again, and it's always harder to keep my Legacies under control when my body's agitated. "Florida," I say again, hopefully calmer. "Do you have any idea what I'll find over there? I know you know something, just tell me already."

He stares at me, watching, hesitating, most likely, but I don't care. I ball my hands into fists to keep my Lumen at bay and keep the dizzy feeling in check. "If Nine found Einar like he hoped, he should've already found Taylor by now," he says, obviously worried, but not more worried than me; his worry doesn't even compare. "I really think—"

"Wait, what?!" Not that kid again!

Before Malcolm can say anything more, I'm in front of the Loralite with a stomp of my foot. I reach out for it and imagine Florida—and it's only amidst the transport, when I'm in that surreal ethereal plain, that I hear her voice in my head:

I'm sorry, she says, I'm sorry. I love you.

The Loralite pulls me, and I think: I'm sorry too. I love you. I'm on my way.