Galilee Rising (16 page)

Jem's eyes fill with sadness, and his face falls. I can't stand to see him in pain, especially when I'm the cause. I pull my legs up to my chest, hugging my knees and gaze up at the moon. "I'll take us back in a minute."

"Fine," he almost whispers. We both stare up at the night sky in silence, misery filling the space between us. "I'm not Justin, Joanna."

"I know," I say after a pause. I stretch my legs out and set my hands on the deck for support. After only a moment's hesitation, I move my hand on top of Jem's, entwining my fingers in his. He lets me. "I
know
."

CHAPTER NINE

Death Echo

I can make it through this day. I can. It is a day like any other. The sun rises, people go to work, they go home and the sun sets. Nothing extraordinary about it. Yeah, well, that's what I thought exactly a year ago today, and by the end of that day I'd been held hostage, shot at, killed a man, and watched as my best friend plummeted to his death to save me from the same fate. One never knows what is just around the corner.

Mayor Miracle arranged the memorial event in Stan Lee Park at three, where he'll unveil the new Fountain of Justice. I approved the design--the scales of justice pouring water with the names of the three heroes who donned the symbol. Justin would have liked it. An estimated thousand people, and who knows how many members of the press will be in attendance despite the rain. I got roped into making a speech, which my speech writer handed to me as I hurried out of the office.

So far the day has been fine. Got enough sleep, went to work early, harangued the Senator about the healthcare bill, had lunch with Lane and a few other executives, and am now sitting in a police escorted town car on my way to the park. Please let the dry fish at lunch be the worst of the day. I'm dropped off at the Southside and led through the barricades toward the stage while a few tourists and paparazzi snap pictures. I ignore them. The nerves I always get before public speaking began in the car but get worse as I wait in the tent with interns and assistant event planners from city hall running around and screaming into their walkie talkies. My only goal is not to have a panic attack on stage. If I can do that, the day is a success.

Someone taps me on the shoulder, and I turn to find my cousin Veronica standing beside me. We look a lot alike, same height and build, but her curly hair is tawny and her eyes are brown. She sits next to me with a sigh. "You know, my editor was ecstatic when he found out I was the only reporter in town with backstage access to this thing."

"You're welcome," I say.

"
But
so far the only newsworthy thing is that all the interns Mayor Miracle hired are far too gorgeous to just be fetching him coffee. Does the man get them from a modeling agency?"

"There's your Pulitzer right there: discrimination in city hall, only the pretty may apply. Might actually be worth looking into," I offer.

"I just may." She pulls out her recorder and shoves it in my face. "Quote me, cuz."

"I'm honored to be here celebrating the life and good deeds of my friend, Justin Pendergast IV. He, his father, and grandfather deserve this memorial for all they did for this city. I only hope that when people walk past it, they not only remember the men, but also what they stood for."

"And how are you personally feeling today?"

"Of course this is a difficult day, but it is a day of remembrance. I choose to remember the good, which far outweighs the bad."

She stops the recorder. "You've gotten more eloquent since you hired people to tell you what to say." She stuffs the recorder in her coat. "Off the record, how are you?"

"So far, so good. No crying jags, no flashbacks, no impulses to reach for a bottle. I'm good."

"And where's your boyfriend?" she asks in sing-song.

"Shut up, he's not my boyfriend. He is a boy who is my friend."

"
Right
. So where is your platonic male friend who you spend hours on the phone with between romantic sunset cruises?"

I just had to tell her about that. "He has a job. And important meetings today."

"Too bad. I really wanted to meet Dr. Love."

"Don't call him that. Jesus, what are you? Twelve?"

She chuckles. "What? I never got to tease you about boys, except Justin but that got old after the first ten years," she says, rolling her eyes. "And I missed my chance when you were with O'Hara because you didn't tell me, which I have not forgiven you for by the way."

"Gee, wonder why I didn't tell you."

She playfully punches my arm. "Oh, come on. I want to meet him. See if he's good enough for my baby cuz. Dad--"

All the chatter stops, and there are a few audible gasps when three familiar masked vigilantes waltz into the tent. We all knew they were coming, but as most people have never been this close to superheroes, I understand their reaction. V practically begins panting at the prospect of getting face time with them. "Good afternoon," Tempest says to everyone.

Nobody moves or says a word. I roll my eyes, tug on V's jacket, and we stand. "Hi," I say, walking over to them. "I'm Joanna Fallon. Thanks for being here today."

Tempest shakes my hand. "Our pleasure. It's nice to meet you."

I glance at Liberty. "I don't know if you remember me, but--"

"Believe me, you are hard to forget Ms. Fallon," Liberty says. "Glad to see you're doing well."

"Thank you." V lightly hits me with her foot. "Um, this is Veronica Lilley with the
Galilee Gazette
."

"We've read some of your articles. They're very good," Tempest says.

"Good enough to grant me an interview?"

"We'll consider it," Tempest says.

I meet Nightingale's eyes, then signal over to the catering area. "Will you excuse me? I need coffee." I walk away toward the food to let V sell them on an interview. At the table, I pick up a glazed donut and start picking it apart. Sadly I'm never too nervous to eat.

On my second donut, when the last of my fellow munchers leave and the coast is clear, Nightingale steps beside me and picks up a coffee cup. "How are you?" he asks quietly.

"Holding it together," I say, stuffing my face. "Thanks for being here today. It means a lot."

"Of course. I know how hard this is for you. I--
we're
here for you. Always."

I flash him a smile. "Thank you."

For once Mayor Miracle is a welcome sight. He rushes into the tent with his security team close behind. Immediately, he zeroes in on the heroes. They are the ones who are going to get him national attention, not a fountain. "Oh my goodness, it is an honor to meet you," he says, shaking Tempest's hand. "Truly an honor. Thank you for agreeing to be here."

"Justice was a friend," Tempest says. "So, who speaks first?"

"The mayor, then you, then Miss Fallon who will unveil the fountain," the event planner says. "We should take our place. It's time."

"Okay," Miracle says. "Let's get out there before it starts pouring again."

I have enough time to touch-up my makeup and brush my hair before the planner makes us line up. I'm right behind Nightingale, who stares straight ahead. A few seconds before our cue his hand moves toward me, palm up. After making sure no one is watching, I entwine my fingers with his and squeeze. We pull apart before walking to the stage. Damned if I don't feel better.

The crowd goes batshit as the heroes step onstage, waving to their fans. It's stopped raining so there are easily a thousand people filling the grassy field and paths. Some hold up signs with "We miss U Justice" or "Make me your Queen, King Tempest." The mayor moves to the podium, and the rest of us sit in the chairs behind him.

On the jumbotrons scattered around the park pictures of Justin, his father, grandfather, and their alter-ego Justice fill the screen. J.R., Justin's grandfather and the first Justice, cutting a ribbon on the new wing of the museum, followed by Justice's first ever fight with Freak, the brawl that made him a superstar. Then J.T., Justin's dad, with Tessa, his mother, at some charity gala followed by Justice running out of a burning building with a woman in his arms. Justin pops up next standing on a familiar stage in a tux speaking to a crowd. It's the last photo of him ever taken at the recovery wing fundraiser exactly a year ago today. I remember that exact moment as clear as if it were happening right now. That proud smile, now a story tall, was all for me. The first pang of the day hits strong enough I sharply intake air. No more looking at pictures for me.

I sit ramrod straight and expressionless as Miracle begins his speech, which is a variation of the one he gave last year at the memorial service. He was the city's savior. We owe him a debt of gratitude. His death was tragic. We'll never forget him. It's all so trite I want to stick pencils in my ears to stop the noise. As I'm a glutton for punishment, I glance back at the jumbotron five minutes into the speech. Justice escorts James Ryder, A.K.A. Alkaline, onto the street. His greatest triumph. Little did he know that act would sign not only his death warrant but those of the two people he loved most in the universe. Ryder's handsome face appears almost smug during the perp walk. He had that same expression exactly a year ago on the hospital rooftop as I pointed a shotgun in his face right before he realized I wasn't pulling the trigger. There isn't a day I don't regret that decision. Right now he's in the bowels of Xavier Prison in a nice version of The Hole. He receives no visitors, no letters, one hour of exercise a week with shower afterwords, and from the reports I receive from my spies, he spends most of his day asleep from the tranquilizers or pacing his cell. A living hell. But just the fact he draws breath when Justin, Rebecca, and Daisy don't enrages me so much I want to punch someone. And have.

Miracle finally shuts up and introduces the Triumvirate. The noise level ratchets up to eleven. Tempest steps up to the podium with the other two taking their usual positions behind him. They wave to the crowd and the screams rise up another notch. I'm almost deaf now. Thank you fan girls of Galilee. "What a warm welcome! Thank you," Tempest says. The crowd settles a few seconds later. "We are so honored to be here today. It's humbling to see so many of you here to celebrate such a great man." More applause and a few screams of love boom from the audience. "We're not really big on speeches, so I'll keep this short. We only worked with Justice once a few years back, but that man sure could make an impression. We were astounded not only by his professionalism but also his compassion. This wasn't a game to him. It wasn't about thrill seeking or glory as it is for some." He pauses, "Present company included." The crowd chuckles, as does Tempest. "No, he was a true believer. A believer in the betterment of humanity. That it is all our duties to help our fellow man, or woman, if we are capable. It's not always easy, or fun, but it's the only way we can really survive. Live together or die alone. Justin Pendergast believed in that principal, and he was willing to sacrifice his life for it. But he did not die alone, as all of you here prove. We're proud to have called him a friend and to continue the work he began. As should all of you be. He was a good man, one of the best, and he will never be forgotten. Thank you."

And the audience goes wild. Screams, applause, whistles loud enough to burst eardrums. Great, I have to follow that like Mort Stilson and his polka band after Elvis rocked the house. The trio smile at me as they sit. I'm too nervous to smile back. That damn Tempest and Miracle pretty much covered all I was going to say. The show must go on though. I force myself to stand and make my way to the podium. I hate public speaking on a good day, and today ain't one of those. My breath is ragged and hands shake as I pull out my now useless speech.
I can do this
.

I scan the crowd. He's nowhere to be found. Last year I thought I saw him with that same proud smile on his face, and it helped me get through the speech. So I glance back at Nightingale, who gives me an encouraging smile. It'll have to do. I turn back. Mouth, take it away.

"I, um," I clear my throat, "yeah, pretty much everything I wanted to say was said already. Justin Pendergast was a great man, one of the best, and we miss him. End of story. So instead, I'll take this time to thank the Triumvirate for not only coming today, but for all they've done since adopting our city. This past year," I scoff, "has been a tough one to say the least. Our crime rate skyrocketed, our economy suffered, hell people were afraid to leave their homes. One man dies and the whole world goes to hell. I don't know if it's just human nature or what, but…shame on us for letting that happen."

The audience murmurs, but I continue on. "It should be up to each and every one of us to make sure that doesn't happen, not just those with the misfortune of having been born special. Justice loved this city, he loved its citizens, he believed in all of you, and he gave his life for that belief. He martyred himself, they all did, in part to make this world a better place. And every time we bully someone, ignore another's pain because it's easier, or turn a blind eye, we are spitting on that sacrifice." Okay, I know I need to shut up but my mouth won't stop moving. "I'm just as guilty as the rest of you. Really it was me he died for. He killed himself to save me. And what did I do? I self-destructed. Ended up hurting all the people who cared about me. I almost squandered the gift he gave me. I almost let that sacrifice be in vain. I almost let the evil he was fighting win. I won't let that happen again." I shake my head and scoff. "And hell, if I can do it, so can you. Start small. Volunteer somewhere. Give money to charity. If you see someone being picked on, speak out. And whenever you pass this fountain, remember these words: 'The only way for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.' Live by them. Be someone's hero. Because this world sure as hell needs some. Thank you."

There's scattered applause from the stunned peanut gallery until the three heroes behind me rise to give me a standing ovation. Their enthusiasm gets the rest clapping too, though not as enthusiastically as my friends. I half smile at my cheering section as I walk over to the ribbon holding up the sheet on the fountain. The mayor barely has time to stand as I unceremoniously grab the stupid big scissors and cut the ribbon. I'm supposed to pose, but I need to get the hell out of here before I really lose it. The sheet falls, revealing the light gray slate fountain of scales. I shove the scissors back at Miracle before fleeing the stage. Think I just lost some popularity points.