The Vigilante's Handbook (Misfits #1)

Twenty Three: Trespassing

I don't like being wrong, which is what made the next twelve hours of my life so much worse.

As Lucia had so kindly reminded me seconds before she forcefully woke up everyone sleeping in the RV, she was in charge and her word was law. When she suggested a scouting mission no one raised any objections. If she learned anything from my lecture, it was that she didn't mention destroying the enemy or being destroyed. Because of that, it was met with a slightly more positive reaction.

Miguel met my eyes briefly when she announced that the scouting party would be leaving immediately after breakfast, which consisted of a serving of canned fruit and day old bread they had picked up before Julien arrived yesterday. From the look of muted concern in his eyes, I knew that Miguel had heard most if not all of mine and Lucia's conversation. Perhaps we hadn't been as quiet as anticipated.

It didn't take long for breakfast to disappear from our plates and the others to pack up their backpacks with enough equipment for the day.

Then the strangest thing happened. To be fair, it wasn't the strangest thing that would happen that day, but it was definitely a high eight on the level of weird things that have happened in my life.

Just before he shut the door of the RV behind them, Cody spared a glance over his shoulder. His eyebrows were drawn together with the same concern that Miguel had displayed, but with it came a sense of urgency.

He spoke quietly and quickly. I wouldn't have believed him if he hadn't used his own voice, but it was the deep timbre of his words that told me to believe him. "We won't let her do anything stupid."

As soon as he had spoken, Cody slammed shut the door.

"You have another ally," said Stitch.

Miguel hummed in agreement, which was the most I had heard from him since Stitch had had his panic attack. He held up four fingers. Four allies. Then gestured at him and Stitch who were obviously on my side in the matter. Then at the door to remind me of Cody. Not that I would forget that anytime soon. Then to the space on the table bed where Ariana had spent the night.

"We heard bits and pieces of your argument," Stitch explained. "This thing has gone too far already, acting like our friends are the enemy when it was the Academy that sent us out here in the first place."'

Leave it to Stitch to figure out the one thing that I hadn't been able to put my finger on. I knew I was missing a piece of the puzzle, missing something that would sway even Lucia, and it was the real face of the enemy. We had been taught to identify targets since we were in kindergarten. It was the best way to approach any superhero situation: identify who needed to be neutralized and do it.

Stitch must have been the only one paying attention during that day in class.

"How do we convince Lucia to not go through with this?" I asked.

Miguel gestured in the direction of our scouting party. Stitch shook his head like he didn't understand, spoiled by a lifetime of verbal communication from Miguel.

I understood. "We talk to Julien. Get rid of the teams." Judging by the solemn nod from Miguel, I had interpreted his gesture perfectly. "So we wait until they get back?"

I wasn't used to the needy looks from Miguel and Stitch like they were waiting for me to tell them my grand plan. Their dependency caught me by surprise. It turned my words unsure. Maybe I was the queen of the misfits, but that had never meant anything more than I was the first of us to fall from grace. I had never been any sort of leader before.

"We wait until they get back," Stitch repeated. "Cody and Ariana will tell us where we need to go to talk to the others. We can end this."

The wait for them to return was excruciating. In the previous days, we had passed time by making small repairs to our home. Stitch had finally managed to start the generator after days of work, but it only put off enough power to dimly light one bulb. Miguel usually disappeared to check the perimeter for a while. That was his excuse anyway, but we all knew he just needed some alone time. With him gone, I stuck close to Stitch, watching him work or attempting to chill the cabinet in which we kept our supply of water bottles. It was a useless pursuit.