Hero Read online

  “By trying to hurt me?”

  The old man nodded, smiling again. “You’ve passed every test thus far.”

  “Not with the giant.”

  “Not at first. But it turns out you passed a different kind of test with him. Because you came back from that, boy. Like a fighter getting knocked down and getting back up. When you had to respond today, you did. Like a champion.”

  Kate said, “You make it sound like he’s supposed to thank you.”

  Mr. Herbert turned to her. “Doesn’t matter to me if he does or doesn’t. I’m not here to please him. I’m here to make sure he’s ready.”

  Kate started to say something else, but Zach put a hand on her arm, stopping her.

  He said to Mr. Herbert, “That’s what this has been about? Some kind of training camp?”

  “I couldn’t tell you that before. You had to think it was real,” the old man said. “I needed to know if you’re ready.”

  “You keep saying that. Ready for what?”

  “To stand and fight.”

  “I’m a kid,” Zach said.

  “No,” Mr. Herbert said. “You’re a hero.”

  “My dad was the hero,” Zach said.

  “And now it’s your turn,” the old man said.

  Now it’s your turn.

  The words echoed in Zach’s ears. Kate was silent next to him. He didn’t blame her. What was there to say to a statement like that? What did it really mean?

  “Let’s take a walk,” Mr. Herbert said.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” Zach said. Then he looked at Kate. “We’re not going anywhere with you. Anything else you can say, you can say to both of us and you can say it now. Or we’re leaving.”

  “And go where, boy? Where does somebody go to escape his destiny?”

  “You know my destiny, too? The way you know me and my family, even though we don’t know you? And that’s why you gave me these powers?”

  The old man looked genuinely curious, as if Zach had finally stumped him. “You think I did this to you?” he said. “You’re still not getting this, are you?”

  He went over and sat down on the stone wall, took off his cap, ran a hand through the white hair.

  “I did nothing of the kind,” he said. “I couldn’t.”

  Zach looked stunned.

  “Then who did this to me?”

  Kate reached over, took Zach’s hand and said in a low voice, “He has a right to know.”

  “You’re right,” Mr. Herbert said to her. “He does.”

  “So tell us,” Zach said.

  “The ones who killed your father are the ones who really gave you these powers,” he said. “The people you think of as the Bads.”

  “That’s crazy,” Zach said.

  “I know it may seem crazy to you,” Mr. Herbert said. “And there’s no way to fully explain what’s in store for you. You’re going to have to learn as you go. That’s what I’m trying to teach you. The Bads, they don’t give up, don’t stop coming. Ever. You can never let down your guard, never get sloppy. Look at your father. One time. That’s all it took. Now they’re going to want you. Not dead—at least not yet. They’re going to want you on their side.” He grinned. “Like you’re their prodigal son.”

  Kate squeezed Zach’s hand. He made no move to take it away. “So Dad gave me these powers . . . not the Bads.”

  “Strictly speaking, yes,” Mr. Herbert said. “But it was the Bads that forced the transition. One thing has never changed, across all the years and all the battles: there can only be one hero at a time.”

  “You make it sound like a long time,” Zach said.

  “Forever,” the old man said, staring at him now. “That’s how long the fight has been going on.” He sighed. “Your dad, he always thought he’d be able to prepare you when the time came.”

  “Prepare me?”

  “For his powers becoming your powers when his time was up,” Mr. Herbert said. The old man closed his eyes. “He thought he had time, all the time in the world. He didn’t. None of us do.”

  He shrugged then, turned and looked at the field where the plane had crashed. “They finally took him down. And now that he’s out of the way, they’re coming, boy. And they’re going to come hard, the way they always have when they see an opening.”

  “How?” Zach said.

  “That’s the thing,” the old man said. “We don’t know. We never know. But when it does come, it’s going to be big and it’s going to be evil, and innocent people who get in the way are going to get hurt. Or killed.”

  Zach said, “You make it sound like the devil himself is coming.”

  “And he knows who you are,” Mr. Herbert said. “It’s why I’ve been trying to give you the preparation your father didn’t. Because the devil’s coming for you this time, Zach. You’re either with him or against him.” He put his cap back on and stood up.

  “Next time,” he said, “the giants will be real.”

  29

  YOU’VE had enough for one day,” Mr. Herbert said. “You’ll see me again, and soon.”

  Zach said, “How do I know you’re telling me the truth about all this?”

  “Because on some things you have to go on faith, boy.”

  “I’ve been warned not to trust anybody.”

  The old man grinned. “Good!” he said. “That means you’re learning. There is one person, though, you’d better learn to trust.”

  “Who’s that?” Zach asked.

  “You,” Mr. Herbert answered.

  He gave a little bow to Kate, turned and disappeared into the high grass, the way he had the first time. The last thing they heard was the sound of him whistling.

  This time Zach let him go.

  “You think he’s really on your side?” Kate said.

  “I think he’s on his own side,” Zach said.

  “Is that enough for you?”

  “It’s going to have to be for now.”

  Then he added, “But only for now.”

  He started walking his bike back to the road. Kate followed him with hers. They both heard the car coming at the same time, saw the headlights cutting through a dusk that had snuck up on them, the way the whole day had.

  They froze as the car closed on them, slowing slightly.

  It passed them and kept going.

  They’re coming, boy, the old man had said.

  “Here’s all I really know for now,” Zach said. “That old man, crazy or not, is the best chance I’ve got to find out who killed my dad.”

  “Sounds like he knows already,” Kate said.

  “I think he knows the team,” Zach said. “Not the player.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “I don’t know,” Zach said. “I just have a feeling about this.”

  “So now what?” Kate said.

  Zach threw his leg over the seat of his bike.

  “The devil he talked about?” he said. “I want to see his face. I want to know his name.”

  30

  THE afternoon Zach, Kate and Alba came back from Long Island, Zach’s mom was waiting for them in the living room.

  Along with Uncle John.

  Zach’s mom gave him a long hug, telling him how much she’d missed him, and when he was finally able to pull back, he looked over her shoulder and said to Uncle John, “You don’t call, you don’t write.”

  “You got me,” Uncle John said. “But in my defense, I have been a little busy, Zachary.”

  Then he grinned and said, “I also thought my personal bodyguard needed a little time to heal. And to think without a bunch of voices messing with his head. Are you really doing good?”

  “I am,” Zach said. “We had a good week out at the house.”

  “Just the three of you?” Uncle John said.

  He made it sound like a casual question, but his eyes didn’t leave Zach for a second. Almost as if he knew something.

  But how could he?

  Zach answered the questio
n without really answering it. “Quiet out there, just the way I like it,” he said. “Kate and I had the beaches to ourselves.”

  “I’m jealous.”

  “So where have you been?” Zach asked.

  “Lots of places, here and abroad,” he said. “Hong Kong led to India, and then L.A. All of it business. All of it boring. But I’m back now to my real job, helping look out for you.”

  A weird answer, Zach thought. Couldn’t anything be straightforward these days?

  “Are you staying for dinner?” Zach said.

  “Actually I’m taking your mom out to a new restaurant, as soon as we get some business out of the way.”

  “More boring stuff?”

  “Senator Kerrigan’s rally in the park,” his mom answered.

  “Our grand savior,” Uncle John added with just enough sarcasm.

  “Okay, that’s my cue to leave,” Zach said, then told Uncle John to make sure and knock on his door before they left.

  He went upstairs to his room and pulled his laptop out of his backpack. No messages this time when he powered it up.

  He still didn’t know whether Mr. Herbert had left the last one. Or if somehow Uncle John had hacked into his computer from parts unknown, as a way of warning him about unseen dangers.

  Or crazy old men.

  Zach didn’t know if that was possible. Didn’t know who, or what, to believe anymore. He stared at his screen saver, a shot of the court at Madison Square Garden right before the start of a Knicks game, thinking that every time he got what seemed like answers, he really did end up with more questions.

  Starting with this one:

  If he did believe Mr. Herbert’s version of things, where did that leave him with Uncle John?

  Uncle John popped his head into Zach’s room about an hour later, while Zach’s mom was off changing for dinner.

  “Hey,” Zach said.

  “Hey, yourself.” Uncle John took a look around. “You know, all the times I’m at the apartment, I hardly spend any time at all up here in Zach World.”

  “We need to talk,” Zach said.

  “I know.”

  “There’s an expression guys have, when they put out a fist and have to wait too long,” Zach said. “Don’t leave a brother hangin’. You left me hangin’ that night in the hospital.”

  “Couldn’t be helped.”

  “Whatever,” Zach said. “You’re here now. And I think you owe me some answers.”

  Uncle John sighed. “This isn’t the time.”

  “I saw Mr. Herbert again. A few days ago.”

  Uncle John turned around, closed Zach’s door, checking to make sure it was shut. Then sat down on the bed. “Tell me all about it.”

  Zach did.

  When he finished, Uncle John shook his head. “Same old game for him.”

  “What game?”

  “He’s the mischief maker, Zachary. The troublemaker. I tried to explain this to you that night in the hospital. Acting as if he’s on your side, as if he’s the only person in the world you can trust.”

  “He can be pretty convincing. Especially that stuff about evil coming.”

  Uncle John wasn’t looking at Zach’s computer. Even if he had been, he probably wouldn’t have realized that Zach had been video chatting with Kate in her room, something they did sometimes for fun, even though they were in the same apartment.

  He left it on so Kate could listen.

  “Con artists usually are convincing,” Uncle John said. “It’s why they’re so good at what they do. And why they last.”

  “He made it sound as if some very bad people are going to come after me, the same people who killed Dad.”

  Uncle John motioned for Zach to join him out on the terrace.

  “Nobody can hear us,” Zach said.

  Except for Kate, he thought.

  “I just want to make sure your mother doesn’t,” Uncle John said. “Your dad managed to keep her out of his real business all the years they were together. Now we’re going to do the same. It’s for her own protection.”

  There was nothing Zach could say to that, so they went outside, Zach leaving the terrace door open a crack, hoping Kate could still listen in. The night air was cool, and the city looked as spectacular as it always did.

  “You said you know all about Dad’s secret missions,” Zach began. “But Mr. Herbert made it sound as if he and Dad worked together.”

  Uncle John said, “Did you tell him about our conversation at the hospital?”

  “No.”

  “Good work, Zachary. The less he knows about what I know, the better.”

  “What does he want from me?”

  “He wants to get close to you,” Uncle John said. “But please remember, he’s the one who put you in the hospital.”

  “So everything he’s telling me is a lie?”

  “No.” Uncle John put an arm around him, pulled him closer. “The best liars always know how to use the truth to make their lies seem more real.”

  Zach looked up at him.

  “What about all the bad stuff he says is about to happen?”

  “That’s the thing, Zachary,” he said. “There’s always bad stuff about to happen. He just wants to scare you as a way of making you think you need him. But he’s the one who needs you, so you don’t try to stop him. He’s trying to trick you into trusting him by making it appear like he’s some kind of wise man. It’s all about trust for now.”

  That again.

  Uncle John said, “He tried to do the same thing with your father when he was young. When he realized the scope of your father’s powers. But the older your father got, the more he saw through him. Saw he was being used.”

  Zach heard his mom’s voice, looked through the terrace doors and saw her standing in the doorway to his bedroom, pointing at her watch, more for Uncle John’s benefit than his own. She said she would be waiting downstairs.

  Uncle John smiled at her, put his arms up in surrender. In a low voice he said to Zach, “I think your father realized too late just how dangerous your Mr. Herbert was.”

  “You really think the old man is that dangerous?”

  “And so should you.” Uncle John leaned close as he opened the doors. “The one who’s coming after you is him,” he said. “The evil is already here.”

  31

  ONE of them is lying to you,” Kate said.

  “Brilliant deduction,” he said. “Do you want to be Sherlock Holmes or the other guy?”

  Kate had heard everything. Now they were going over all of it, like spreading the pieces of a big puzzle out on a table, trying to match parts together.

  “Mr. Herbert is so convincing,” Zach said.

  “So is your Uncle John,” Kate answered. “By the time he finished, he had me scared that I’d even been around that old man.”

  “But if the old man is the one who’s telling the truth,” Zach said, “if he’s one of the good guys . . .”

  Kate looked sideways at him. “It means your Uncle John isn’t.”

  Now that was on the table, too.

  “What do I do?” he said.

  Kate said, “You’re not going to like what I’m about to tell you.”

  They were out walking again, on East Broadway, heading toward the East Side. A light rain began falling.

  Zach waited.

  “You’re going to have to treat your Uncle John like a suspect for the time being,” she said.

  “I can’t!” he said.

  “You have to,” Kate said. “They’re each giving you a different version, but for now, Uncle John is the only one around.”

  Zach said, “I feel guilty even having this conversation. Even talking about not trusting him.”

  “It’s not like it’s a ton of fun for me, either. Don’t forget, I’ve grown up with him, too.”

  “He’s Uncle John,” Zach said. “Not only was he my dad’s best friend, now he’s my mom’s best friend.”

  “But what if he’s the one who’s t
he mischief maker?” Kate said. “I know you don’t want to think about this—but what if the evil has been right in front of you your whole life?”

  Zach had no answer for that. And Kate was right: he didn’t want to think about that. So he put up his hand and said he’d spring for the cab fare home.

  “My hero,” Kate said.

  He sure didn’t feel like one today.

  Another night lying in the dark in bed, staring at the ceiling, laptop finally turned off, everybody else in the apartment asleep. Zach unable to.

  Again.

  He thought about all the trips his dad had taken over the years. Had they all been top-secret missions? Had they all been about capturing Bads, about good conquering evil? If so, did it matter who Tom Harriman had really worked for—the president or the old man?

  Zach’s mission was different and hadn’t changed from the moment he’d decided that his dad’s death had not been an accident. He was trying to catch bad guys, too. The bad guys who’d killed his dad.

  And no matter how confused he felt sometimes, no matter how many times he got turned around, Zach knew he was getting closer.

  Either Uncle John or Mr. Herbert was lying to him, that much was certain. Both were doing whatever they could to win his trust and discredit the other. One of them knew a lot more about his dad’s death than he was saying . . . maybe even both.

  Zach couldn’t think about it any longer. He needed to move, needed to get out. He could feel the anger rising up in him at two-fifteen in the morning, surrounded by the silence in the apartment.

  He put on a gray hoodie, jeans and sneakers. Went through the kitchen, flying down the back stairs in a way he never had before, but a way that felt perfectly natural now—going from landing to landing, feeling as light as air. When he got to the lobby, he peeked out and saw the front door open as Ziggy, one of the night doormen, went outside for a smoke. Zach was through the lobby and through the door, invisible until he was two blocks up, out of Ziggy’s sight.

  Fresh, he thought.

  The old man had said Zach was better when he was angry, had told him to use his anger, and tonight he was going to use it to blow around the city. A different kind of knock-around day, at a new speed.