Swarm

CHAPTER 1

SCAM

YOU LOOK GREAT IN THOSE jeans! Ethan said.

He handed the guy a flyer.

The guy did not look great in those jeans. It was abundantly clear he’d gone commando just to fit into them. His legs would probably never bend again.

But Ethan didn’t care. He was in a good mood, and the whole world was going to benefit. He moved on, scanning the crowd.

It was the last Saturday night before Christmas, and Ivy Street was buzzing. The clubs were about to open and everyone was ready to dance.

Hey, Ethan said to a young woman in a purple feather boa. Don’t feel bad. Your boss is a total idiot.

She took the flyer. How’d you . . .

Ethan shrugged. How indeed.

And, girl, purple is your color! he enthused.

She beamed at him.

He was practically singing tonight.

Of course, it wasn’t Ethan talking. It was his other voice. The one that always knew how to get Ethan what he wanted. And tonight all he wanted was for everyone to feel as happy as he did. So the voice was telling them whatever they needed to hear.

He moved on, feeling the happy. Letting the happy light him up from inside.

It was almost weird feeling this good, but for once his life was turning around. With the Summer of Suck in his rearview mirror, Ethan was free and clear. No more worrying about bank robbers and drug-dealing mobsters. No more being grounded by his mom. Even the other Zeroes were laying off their usual Scam bashing, treating him like part of the team.

And then there was Kelsie. After the kidnapping and the near-death experience inside the exploding building, she’d been pretty PTSD. Add in the despair of losing her dad and, well, it had been bad times.

But now she was on the up and up. Sometimes even happy. And if she was happy, then Ethan was too. Seriously happy.

Your mom got you a Raystar 47 for Christmas! Ethan heard himself say. He had no idea what that meant, but in front of him some guy’s eyes lit up like a pair of horny fireflies. He must’ve really wanted that Raystar.

Hey, how’d you even— the guy began.

Ethan gave him a flyer and kept moving through the crowd.

Kelsie had settled easily into the Zeroes. You’re my family now, she’d told Ethan shyly, and he’d practically gone supernova with pride. Kelsie liked being with other people who had powers. She liked DJing at the Dish, exploring what she could do with a dance crowd. She didn’t even mind Glorious Leader’s endless training.

One time Kelsie had said she was only in Cambria until she had enough cash to go find her mom in New Orleans. But she was still here, so maybe Kelsie had another reason to stay in Cambria. Someone she didn’t want to leave behind.

Ethan hoped so, anyhow.

Hey, you! the voice cried as Ethan handed some short-ass kid a flyer. "You should totally tell her how you feel! Love is in the air, dude!"

Ethan blinked, playing back the words in his head. Was that a sign? That was a stretch—the voice never talked to Ethan directly. But this was one of those nights when anything seemed possible.

Okay. He’d talk to Kelsie tonight, right after the Dish closed.

Whoa. The kid was wearing that familiar, startled expression everyone did when the voice plumbed their secrets. You know about my stepmom?

"I . . . wait. Your stepmom? Ethan switched to his own voice. Forget I said anything, kid. Seriously, abort. Abort!"

He snatched back the flyer. Kid was too young for the Dish anyway.

Glorious Leader—Nate—had sent him over to Ivy Street, telling him to rope in people who were young and ready to dance. But if some fourteen-year-old kid turned up at the Dish, they’d all blame Ethan.

It was a reminder to focus, to not get swept up in the happy. Especially later with Kelsie. If he used his Zero voice to confess his feelings, Kelsie would know. So he had to use his own clumsy, fallible Ethan Cooper voice.

This flyer thing was the perfect warm-up. Hitting all these people with good news made him feel expansive and confident. On top of the world.

In fact, he was doing such a good job that he was almost out of flyers. But it wasn’t quitting time yet.

If he was going to talk to Kelsie tonight—which he definitely was, no chickening out—he needed a huge, happy, agreeable mob in the Dish. Because then Kelsie would be so hooked into the passion and thrill of the crowd that she’d see the truth. Yes, Ethan, I’m totally in love with you, too. I always have been. Since the moment you showed me I wasn’t the only one in the world with a power!

Which sounded unlikely, now that Ethan played the words in his head. But if she didn’t say exactly that, at least she probably wouldn’t say anything too soul-crushing.

Kelsie would never make him feel bad.

More flyers, then, to amp up the Dish tonight. So many flyers.

Ethan headed for the Office-O on the next block.

*  *  *

The place was practically empty.

He passed an old dude dozing behind the counter and headed to the back, where the copiers were lined up under the fluorescent lights like small armored vehicles. There was a young couple, Ethan’s age, dressed for a night out in Ivy Street’s club scene. The guy had a funky half-shaved haircut, and the girl wore a black frilled skirt.

Not Ethan’s bag, but definitely the kind of people that Nate wanted at the Dish. Once he had more flyers, the voice would make their day telling them how awesome they looked.

He paused at the first copier, but it was flashing PAPER TRAY EMPTY. He tried the next copier. Same. Ditto the third. He scanned the row of copiers. All the red lights were flashing.

Okay, that was irritating. He looked around for someone in a blue Office-O shirt to help him.

Then he heard the ka-chunk of a paper drawer being slid out, and he turned to the young couple. The guy emptied the copier tray and took the paper to a paper cutter at the end of the row. The girl lined up the pile and began slicing.

What the hell?

Ethan stepped forward and cleared his throat. Um, guys? They sell paper here, you know. You don’t have to take it from the copiers.

Don’t have any money, the girl said.

Ethan frowned. Like they could walk out of here with a thousand sheets of Office-O paper under their arms for free?

But if Ethan started arguing, he’d disturb the happy that filled him. So he smiled and let himself have a moment of wanting paper. Wanting the guy to give him some paper, and be glad about it.

The voice took over. Dude, I need to make some copies. And you’ll be interested in why.

The guy pulled the paper drawer from the last machine, ignoring Ethan. He was skinny, but tall, and carried himself like he wasn’t afraid of anyone.

There’s this club that’s special, if you know what I mean.

That got the guy’s attention. Ethan held up his one remaining flyer.

Coolest underground place in Cambria, the voice confirmed. "With the hottest DJ and the sweetest crowd. Just help me out with some paper so I can make sure there’s a super-big party there tonight."

The guy smiled, like Ethan was suddenly an old pal. That sounds great, buddy. Knock yourself out.

He slid the full tray back into the last machine and stepped back with a bow.

Hey, thanks, Ethan said in his own voice.

That was the thing to remember about the voice. It didn’t have to be a brutal weapon to do its thing. It didn’t have to cut people down. As long as Ethan maintained a high level of affection for all humankind, the voice was happy being a sweetheart.

Maybe that was the key to superpowers. Not taking them too seriously. Not taking yourself too seriously.

Like, using your power for good or something.

He laid down his last flyer, swiped Nate’s credit card along the card reader, and let the machine do its thing. While it rattled off a few hundred copies, Ethan slipped a lozenge from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. A voice-induced burn was building in his throat.

But getting a good crowd for Kelsie was worth it.

Six months was a record for him. His previous longest crush—Mari Prendergast, freshman year—had lasted about a week and a half. So this wait made him even more certain that Kelsie was the real deal.

He’d almost blurted out his feelings a dozen times in the days and nights after her dad died. But grief had given her a kind of thousand-yard stare, like she was lost inside her own skull. Trying to talk romance at a time like that would’ve been cruel and unusual.

So he’d waited until things had calmed down for everyone.

The copier clattered to a halt. Ethan gathered his flyers and handed one to the couple at the paper cutter. He unleashed the voice to give them a last dose of happy.

You’ll love it, guys. And best of all, they’ll never see you coming!

Okay, that was pretty out there. But no weirder than the voice’s stepmom advice earlier.

The couple looked surprised too, but Ethan just nodded and smiled like everything was normal. He headed for the door.

CHAPTER 2

SCAM

IT WAS EVEN BUSIER BACK on the street. The stores were open late tonight and people were frantic with last-minute Christmas shopping.

Next to the Office-O, Ethan spotted a girl peering at a retail-window display of robot Santas. She had white-bleached hair with a strip of magenta over one ear. Perfect.

Party at the Dish tonight. He held out a flyer with a smile. Great for your next post!

Ethan squirmed as the words came out. Nate didn’t want anyone putting stuff about the Dish online.

The girl turned toward him, befuddlement fading into a look of recognition. "Hey, it’s you."

Ethan swallowed the voice down. Um, sorry, who . . .

But he knew who she was.

She grinned. Been to any good bank robberies lately?

Sonia Sonic. The girl he’d met on the cold marble floor of Cambria Central Bank last summer. The girl who’d videoed his Zero voice in action and posted it for the entire world to see.

That girl. And the stupid voice had just gone and promised her more material!

He tried to hide the flyer, but Sonia yanked it away from him. Lightning fast, she snapped a picture of it with her phone.

Ethan was seriously screwed.

Nate had warned all the Zeroes to keep a low profile, and specifically to avoid Sonia Sonic on pain of death. Those were Nate’s exact words: pain of death, which sounded like some pretty serious pain.

I knew it! Sonia said. You’re up to something, right? You and your freaky friends?

Ethan tried to look like he didn’t know what she was talking about. But all the Zeroes read Sonia’s feed regularly.

She was practically a career weird-hunter now. She’d been posting about inexplicable crowd events ever since the bank thing. She might not have been present for the police station meltdown last summer, or the riot on Ivy Street the next night, but she’d interviewed a lot of people who had been.

And, like most of Cambria, she’d witnessed firsthand the mysterious glitch at the Fourth of July fireworks show a week later. After that she’d started tracking outbreaks of crowd madness from Seattle to Miami to Santa Rosa. Her theory was that all these events were related, and that Ethan and his friends were part of some strange conspiracy.

She was mostly wrong, of course. For a start, most of the Zeroes had never even been out of Cambria. There was no conspiracy, even if it was pretty clear that there had to be other Zeroes out there causing trouble.

But six superpowered teens experimenting on people in an illegal nightclub? Now that story would blow all of last summer’s crazy out of the water.

Sonia leaned forward conspiratorially. You know, that bank video was the biggest thing to happen to me ever. People all over the country read my posts. I’ve had calls from journalists, even a senator from Washington State. I’m, like, a celebrity now!

Glad my humiliation was useful to you, Ethan said.

For weeks after she’d posted that video, Ethan hadn’t been able to go anywhere in Cambria without being recognized. Which was the opposite of useful with a power like Ethan’s. When your superpower was lying, it didn’t pay to be famous.

In fact, none of the Zeroes needed Sonia’s attention. It’d be a lot harder to influence people if they knew that crowd magic was nudging them along.

Sonia scanned the flyer. What kind of club name is the Petri Dish, anyway?

It means you’re not welcome there, he said.

Why not, exactly?

Because the Dish was the Zeroes’ hideaway, a place where they could experiment with their powers. (Hence the stupid name.) They kept it underground for exactly three reasons—no media attention, no cops, and no Sonia frickin’ Sonic.

Of course, Ethan didn’t say any of that. He could only unleash the beast. He hated to, because the voice had been in such a happy place today. But the safety of the team was more important than his own good mood.

"Because you really don’t want to be seen in public with that hair," he heard himself say.

Sonia opened her mouth, but nothing came out. The voice was an expert at getting that reaction.

Sure, I can see you were going for magenta with that stripe. But right now it looks more like a shade of Life Saver. Flamingo Musk, maybe? Or Cat Vomit Rosé?

Stop even talking! Sonia cried. "This is GothLyfe Full Metal Magenta! You can’t get more magenta than this."

But the voice was cruising now. It burned with a fierceness he hadn’t felt in days. As if all the happiness it had flung out into the world had been a warm-up for the real deal.

Maybe it was this morning, sweetie. But unless you want to be known as Sonia Salmon Head—

Why are you doing this? She glared at him, eyes glistening.

Ethan could feel the voice rising up, ready to go again. But with a searing effort, he managed to choke down the next insult.

This wasn’t what his power was all about. It wasn’t who he was. Not anymore.

Sorry, he croaked.

As he warred to keep the voice silent, Sonia’s expression shifted.

Wait a second. This is exactly what you did in the bank. You made that robber go crazy, just by talking to him.

I . . . um, Ethan managed, still struggling. Pink hair . . . bad.

I am totally coming to your club, she said grimly. There’s nothing you can say to stop me.

And with that, the voice died a silent death in Ethan’s throat.

That was the thing about his power—it knew when to quit. If there was nothing to say that would get Ethan what he wanted, the voice went to sleep.

Looked like Sonia was coming to the Dish.

He swallowed, wondering how to explain it when he got back.

Hey, Nate, remember the one person you told me on pain of death not to invite? Yeah, well, check out her new hairstyle!

Okay. But let me take you. Maybe he could get ahead of this. My girlfriend’s the DJ. Kind of.

Kind of your girlfriend, or kind of the DJ?