The Vigilante's Handbook (Misfits #1)

Twenty Five: Think Like a Delinquent, Act Like a Hero

As it turned out, a change of clothes was easier to come by than a police scanner. All it took was revisiting the wreckage of our home.

The trek to the RV was easier with guides and not balancing a half conscious sixteen year old against my shoulder. Foster had become the de facto navigator even though he was the most difficult of the bunch to follow. He had a nasty habit of walking straight through trees and boulders to keep us on a straight course. Not all of us could change our molecular density at will, so while he went straight, we were forced to make a meandering path.

We waited in the trees until well after sunset. Everyone had eyes on the motorhome. Julien had no reason to think we would come back to the junk pile, but none of us wanted to take any chances. Watching the still smoldering wreckage twisted my stomach. There, where smoke was lazily floating into the sky was where the unfreezable fridge had stood. It must have been nostalgia that had me missing its terrible, terrible smell. Every ember felt like a missing piece of home.

Stitch's final lighting bolt had torn the thing to pieces and set fire to whatever the others hadn't destroyed. I understood why he did it. I really did. It was a big enough distraction to get us out of there before the destruction could fall on us, but that didn't mean I wanted to stare at his handiwork.

Although no one wanted to pick through the rubble, Stitch insisted. He was currently the smartest person in the vicinity when it came to fighting crime, so we listened to him. It paid off when Miguel found our stash of super suits, all seven untouched by the destruction. I had no clue what material the Academy labs had invented, but putting it on made me feel much safer already.

The face paint was my idea. It was less facepaint and more black soot I found on the ground.

One by one I made my teammates step up to me so I could paint it thick around their eyes instead of masks. A few got special additions to their masks, like Stitch's thick beard and Miguel's smudge mustache. Stitch giggled when I smeared on the ash. Miguel just cocked an eyebrow when I held up my black coated finger, but he was fighting a smile. Neither tried to stop me. They knew me so well.

When Lucia saw my artwork decorating their faces, she insisted that she draw on her own mask. Or maybe it was the mischievous glint in my eyes that said even her superstrength couldn't stop my antics.

The police scanner was relegated to a want and not a need when we stepped foot into town. There was no way we could procure one at this time of night in this small of a town without drawing anyone's suspicion.

The streets of Summersville were as empty as expected. It was a Tuesday night, as Ariana informed us. The days had mostly blurred together for me. Tuesday night just didn't seem to shout crime light the weekends did. In such a sleepy little place, we would be lucky to see someone run a red light at the one stoplight that marked the center of town. It seemed out of place.

By the time we found a comfortable spot halfway up a hill on the other side of town where we had a decent vantage point, it was well past four in the morning. "Anyone sane would be asleep right now," Ariana whispered with a scowl. As the night wore on, it was becoming more and more clear that she was not a night person, and neither were Stitch and Foster. All three had become irritated when the clock hit midnight. Every hour after had become a new level of torture for the rest of us. All they did was complain.

"I underestimated this place and how much they needed us," Stitch said. "We should find somewhere to sleep and regroup in the morning. What we're doing now is useless."

No one bothered to point out that we didn't have anywhere else to sleep other than our current grassy hill. It wouldn't be too bad of a gig if we had blankets, but as it stood, the air was a little too nippy to be called comfortable, but it didn't stop the three sleepyheads from crashing before anything exciting happened.