"Life did not stop, and one had to live."
- War and Peace
"This is for the best sweetheart."
Warren had been pulling things out of cardboard boxes but turned his head to look at his mom with his good eye as she passed his room carrying more boxes. She kept saying things like that since the move to Camdenville was announced. He didn't know why. He had never complained about it. Why would he? Here at least no one would know who his father was.
Warren's hand came up to touch his swollen eye. A week later and the swelling still hadn't gone down completely. He shook his head; it had been stupid to go to school that day.
He had come home like any other day but was greeted by the police and people from his mom's work. Apparently his father had gone on a rampage and government buildings had been destroyed. People were buried alive; others were burned to death.
Why? His dad was a superhero. He was Inferno. He wasn't a villain. But somewhere deep inside Warren knew his father could be one. It wasn't one moment in time that made him accept it so quickly but so many over the years. They mainly happened when his mom wasn't around, when it was just him and his dad, when they were playing games or doing those endless meditation lessons. Maybe that was why he had never mentioned it to his mom, it made him feel important that his dad trusted him with some secrets. He would say things about the government, the place of citizens, how things were going to change. Warren never really understood what he meant when he started talking about those things but he would always end it by placing his hand on Warren's shoulder and telling him that he would understand someday. Warren was just happy to spend time with his dad. Then he came home from school on some random day and walked into hell.
No one could find his dad. He wasn't captured at the scene. So far he was still at large. At large without a secret identity. He didn't wear a mask. He had yelled his name as the citizens had fled before him. It made a statement. As a hero he would wear a mask, hide his face, but this, he wanted the world to know who he was. The Bureau had covered it up as best that they could. To regular citizens, Barron Battle was a fire-starting, mad bomber terrorist, they kept the fact that he was a Super and especially the fact that he had been Inferno, a secret.
Barron Battle was now the most wanted criminal in the city, and, most likely, the nation.
So why had Warren gone to school the next day? His mom had been so busy with the police and the Bureau agents that she hadn't noticed him leave that morning. Of course it was unsafe. Why hadn't he thought of that?
He had wanted, needed, to see his friends. He hadn't been allowed to use the phone. He wasn't able to call anyone. None of the adults would talk to him except to ask him if he knew where his father was. He needed someone, anyone.
He had been attacked by a group of kids on the playground before he even reached the school. His left eye was swollen shut by the time he was thrown to the ground. He had had a few seconds before the onslaught continued to scan the angry crowd, his eyes locked onto one in particular, Kyle, his friend, the reason he had come to school. That was when the tears had come. He didn't have friends anymore.
He didn't know what his father had been planning to do. He didn't help him kill all of those people. But somehow it was his fault.
Later, after a teacher had rescued him, after he had gone to the hospital and his mom had taken him home, he heard her accusing the agents of letting it happen. That they didn't go get him at school the first day and didn't stop him from going today, to draw Baron out. Warren's mom was a very calm person, so, he figured if she was yelling at them like that, it was probably true.
Warren sighed and pushed another box labeled 'Warren Peace Clothes' toward his dresser.
Warren Peace.
His mom had made sure to write it on all of his boxes, even the boxes that were already labeled, in case he had forgotten, he guessed. It would take some getting used to.
Apparently his mom didn't need much convincing either to believe his dad had gone villain. Warren didn't hear her protest at all, tell the government they had made a mistake or even wait for Barron to show up to tell his side of the story before she was changing their last names and moving across country.
Warren pulled one of his boxes over and began pulling things out, then stopped. He looked at the side of the box to make sure it was his name written there; it was, but this wasn't his stuff. It was his dad's. He looked at his name again, not the one written by his mom, but the other. It was written in his dad's handwriting. Had the police gone through it? They had taken everything they thought belonged to Barron. With a quick scan of the contents he realized why it hadn't been taken; it looked like a box of board games. Technically it was, but he also knew that it was much more.
They were strategy exercises. His dad may not have been the smartest when it came to everyday things, he remembered his mom getting frustrated when she had to once again explain how to work the washing machine, but when it came to making plans he was a master. A Super, actually. Pyrokinesis was his obvious power, but not many outside of the government knew that Barron had a second power, and most that did know didn't classify it as a power. But whether anyone believed it or not, Barron had a power for strategy and, according to his dad, so did most Battles'; it was how they got their name.
Carefully, Warren began pulling out the games; Chinese checkers, regular checkers, chess, Risk, Go; he let out a short laugh when he pulled out Jenga. Next came the city maps. His dad always said that Risk was too limited so they began playing it on real maps; more pieces got involved, then there were no longer armies, "They're too large, it makes it easy for your enemy to fight you. Cloak and dagger is the way to go, so they won't know where to aim, keep 'em guessing." It had sounded good to him but he also remembered thinking that the good guys didn't do that, they didn't attack first, they defended.
He opened one of the maps. It was of a large city. Banks, schools, government buildings, police departments were clearly defined. On the top right, written in crayon, were the response times of the local superheroes. Warren remembered playing this map only a few months before. His dad always won, whether he was the 'heroes' or the 'villains'. He always said being the villain was harder.
"The scales are tipped against them. You have to be really good to win. If you're just lucky then they'll get you next time."
Warren was never lucky playing against his father so he decided that he was going to have to get good. This map was his. His father was surprised when Warren announced that he was going to be the villain this time and then stunned speechless when his son won. He studied the map silently the next few minutes, looking at Warren then back at the map a few times. Warren had begun to get worried, then his father laughed out loud and slapped him on the back.
"Beat me at a strategy game, wait till I tell your mother!"
"No!" he had cried out in panic. It had taken him three months to get all the information he needed; sewer lines, electric plans; someone normally couldn't get that kind of information, let alone an eight year old. His mom worked for the Global Superhero Bureau and he had used her personal computer to get into the system. If she found out he would be beyond dead.
His dad frowned and looked at the map again. Warren expected to get chewed out but his dad had kept quiet about it. Every once in awhile he would slap him on the back and give him a real proud look. It always made Warren's day, that his dad still remembered, but at the same time it would remind Warren that he had betrayed his mom's trust. His dad continued to win after that but he never stopped reminding Warren that he had beaten his old man once.
Warren quickly put everything back into the box and kicked it over to the door. He didn't want it in his room. Didn't want any reminder of his dad. How could he do this to them? Become a villain? Force them uproot their live to run from his infamy?
How could he leave them?
Warren bit back a sob. He couldn't even hate his father right for doing this. He couldn't make himself stop wanting his father to come through the door and hold him; to play those stupid games with him. But he wasn't going to, why would he?
Warren took a deep breath. If he had learned anything because of all of this it was that no one else was going to be there for him and his mom. So he needed to stop crying and deal with it.
