The Sunshine Boy and the Weaver King

Chapter Twenty One

The trauma blanket felt scratchy on his shoulders, and the consistent click of the cameras felt scratchy all over.

"Get them out of here," a cop hissed angrily at the man next to her, and he shook his head, muttering something about trying. She glowered at him, then turned sharply to the EMT standing next to Anthony. "What's the situation?"

"He's fine. A couple cuts on his chest and one on his side. It's burned skin and tissue, though. Like someone cauterized it."

The woman stared evenly at him. "Did you?"

"No," the man shook his head. "No one did. We just got him here and gave him water. He seems fine."

She stared down at Anthony. "Huh."

*

It was hours before Burke contacted him again, and he showed up at the police station, briefcase in hand, suit less rumpled than usual.

"I'm his lawyer," he said to the cop at the door, and Anthony tried not to look surprised to see him.

Burke set the briefcase down on the table and sat with a sigh.

"It'll look suspicious now," Anthony said. "Like I did something wrong."

"It already looks that way." Burke propped his elbows up on the table. "They have you in here, secluded, not in some cushy office so you'll feel warm and safe. No more blankie."

Anthony shut his eyes. Opened them. "I didn't use anything against him."

"No," Burke shrugged a shoulder, "but you did use it. Now they're wondering how you got away with freshly cauterized cuts and convinced the bad guy to give himself up in the first place. They're also interviewing the other kids, who all say he wanted you dead. Not a little scared. Dead."

"Do you want me to be dead?" Anthony asked, looking across the table at him. In the harsh LED light, Burke's tired lines seemed deeper, his eyes colder. But the lawyer just gave him a smile.

"Of course not. But it seems like you're going to end up that way anyway."

Anthony nodded, smiling humorlessly. "Right. Maybe it's better for everyone if I do."

"Define everyone," Burke said flatly.

"Me, for starters."

Burke stared at him like he couldn't believe what he was hearing, then scoffed, leaning back. "You have the most potential I've seen in a long time. The pure bloods are dying out. Turning bad just to buy themselves time. What used to be something to brag about isn't anymore. You're a rarity. You have the potential to turn things around. Nationally and maybe even inter-nationally."

"The Weaver," Anthony said sharply, "knows who I am."

Burke blinked.

"You chose wrong when you chose me."

Burke began to nod, slowly. "So you connected your parents to him, then."

"Yep," Anthony popped the p.

"You don't trust me," Burke continued.

Anthony shrugged.

The lawyer paused, clasping his hands in front of himself and staring at them silently. Then he cleared his throat. "I told you it was revenge. You want to know for what?"

At the continued silence, Burke charged ahead. "He killed the love of my life. She was an investigative journalist looking into powered deaths. She got too close. So he killed her and dumped her body in her parents' backyard. She wasn't even a byline. Her life meant nothing because there wasn't a drop of powered blood in her." His lips twisted into a sneer. "You don't value yourself at all. The power you hold just sitting there, saying you should go off and die. Do it then. See how many things they write about you, mystery kid. Then they'll add you to the list. Your name will go with all the other little shits that slipped up because they were stupid."

He leaned back again, breathing a little heavier.

"Sounds to me," Anthony said, "like you're just mad you're not one of them."

"You're right." Burke snapped. "I wish I was. I wish I could go kill the Weaver myself but I can't. I build a house and spread lies that I found a way to neutralize powers, that I can get to them, but I can't." He stood, shoving the chair back. "You're the only one that might be able to shut him down. But you hate yourself so much you won't even try."

Anthony swallowed. "Stop."

"Do you have any idea how long I've tried to do this?" Burke asked, his voice a hiss. "How much I've sacrificed to do this?"

Anthony moved his gaze back to Burke's face, which was flushed with anger. His eyes were blazen, and just slightly unhinged.

"Why don't you tell me?" Anthony asked quietly. 

Himself. Mia. That training room was state of the art. Burke had to have put years into building it just the way he wanted. Had to have known before the house was built.

"How long ago did she die?"

Burke swallowed hard. "Seventeen years."

"How many kids?" Anthony asked, watching him.

"How many kids what," Burke's eyes flashed. Not a moment's hesitation.

He and Mia couldn't have been the first. Not after that outburst, not after seeing how angry Burke really was. The coolheaded lawyer act was just that. An act. He wanted the Weaver dead, and he chose Anthony and Mia... why? Because of their underground ties? Their parents? Who had he chosen before them and why had it gone wrong?

Burke didn't care at all. Calling it a sacrifice? What personal sacrifice had he made? The sacrifices made were the kids'.

"Doesn't matter," Anthony muttered. 

"That's what I thought." Burke reached for his briefcase, shoved the back of his hand across his nose. Took a deep breath and popped it open.

"Your plan is terrible," Anthony said numbly. "You're putting kids against a villain that's been working for decades. You don't have a location, you don't have a schedule, and you don't have anything that guarantees the Weaver will come out of his break for me. What would I have to do?" He glanced up. "A public announcement?"

Burke turned the briefcase back around so that it faced him. Inside was a phone, cash, and an assortment of weapons. And two keys on a silver key chain.

"More will come after you." Burke straightened, adjusting his tie. "That's a given. If you go out on your own right now, you'll die. The two keys. One for my house, one for one of my cars. The silver Honda. Phone is for you, me, and Mia. Those are the contact, and they're all you're gonna need. Cash is to get around. Weapons. Obvious reasons."

"Why are you giving me this?"

Burke scowled. "Because you're the best shot I have, and your little act of rebellion at the Solstice made me some enemies."

At Anthony's silence, Burke handed Anthony the keys. "The cameras are off. I'm going to go out there and keep them distracted. Don't go into the hall. Get out of this room, get what you need from Briar, and get to my house. Mia will be there."