Not Your Villain (Sidekick Squad #2)(66)

“Which is power-walking, because you have long legs.” She pounds at the rock wall. “Come on, don’t just stand there, help!”

Jess laughs. “The instructions did say an average pace. And, Bells, that is definitely not you.”

Bells lets out a sarcastic gasp. “You mean I’m taller than average? Oh no, I had no idea.”

Emma shakes her head. “And probably gonna get taller too, if you get another growth spurt.”

Bells whistles. “That sucks, I have a hard enough time dealing with heights as it is.” Listening for hollow noises, he knocks on the wall anyway. He can hear Abby doing the same thing, leaving Jess to hold up the last DED for light.

“Uh, guys?” Jess says. “Did you hear that?”

“What?”

Jess squints and moves her DED away from the wall. “Sounded like a camera swiveling.”

“Hey, bring that light back!” Emma snaps.

“You do know I know exactly where the door is, right?” Jess asks, amused.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Bells stops his search and throws his hands up at Jess.

The conversation stops abruptly when a section of the rock wall slides open to reveal a window.

After Bells’ eyes adjust, he can see a pair of goggles peeking out at them; its lenses reflect circles of light onto Emma’s face.

“Uh, hello,” Emma stammers.

“Who shot first?” the words are short bursts of staccato; the voice is clipped and impatient.

They exchange glances. “What?” Abby says, after a long tense moment. “Nobody shot anyone. Guns aren’t… We aren’t…”

“It’s a password,” Bells says. “We need the correct password to get in.” He glances at the goggle-masked person and gives them a pleading look. “Look, we’ve been trying to find you for a while. Can you just let us in so we can talk? We have important information.”

“Who shot first?” Faster this time, and Bells can see the window closing and hear the metal panel screech as it starts to slide.

“What kind of question—”

“Star Wars,” Jess says suddenly, snapping her fingers and grinning. “Han shot first.”

The goggle-faced person cackles. “Course he did. Come on in, young padawans. Welcome to the Resistance.” There’s the sound of electronic buzzing, and then a large panel of fake rock wall swivels out.

“I’m Cal.” This is accompanied by a little bow and flourish. “They/them. Who are you all?”

“Emma, she/her,” Emma says, following Cal, and gives Bells a triumphant look that he takes to say Look! We found the Resistance.

They share their names and pronouns as Bells’ eyes adjust to the light. The room is a lot smaller than he thought it would be, with a few couches and comfortable arm chairs. Is that a bean bag? Maybe this is just the lobby. There must be a network of labyrinthine passages and people working round the clock finding a way to expose the corrupt League.

Two men are sprawled on the couch. Thomas, the one with a salt-and-pepper beard, has his arm around Kyle, a brunet in a rumpled plaid shirt who waves at them. Janice, who can’t be more than twelve or thirteen, sits on the beanbag; her legs dangle cheerfully. Preston, a college-aged boy, sits on another couch. He wears round glasses and has a lightning bolt drawn on his forehead.

Kyle brightens up after the introductions. “Welcome, welcome!” he says cheerfully. “Did you guys bring snacks?”

Emma looks at Bells, who shrugs. He wasn't the one who wanted to crash a super-secret Resistance meeting.

“No, sorry,” Emma says. “We do have a lot of food back at the… I mean, we could go back and…” she trails off, taking in the tiny room.

Abby’s eyes are narrowed, darting from corner to corner.

Jess has her arms crossed, and she has an exasperated look on her face. “I tried to tell you,” she whispers. “I didn’t realize it earlier because I wasn’t asking the right question, but uhh…”

There’s a huge screen—old-school, not a holoprojector—and Bells recognizes the two-dimensional image frozen on the pixilated screen. There’s a small, green, funny-eared character in robes—Yoba? Something. It’s one of Jess’ favorite movies from her illegal pre-Collective stash.

“Uh… you are the Resistance?” Bells takes another look. They don’t appear to be doing anything… rebellious, although they could be taking a break.

“Yeah,” Preston says. “We’re here to stick it to the government. No one can tell us what we can and can’t watch; media is ours to decide!” He pumps his fist in the air.

“Yeah!” Janice echoes.

“Okay, shut up, stop being weird in front of the newbies. How’d you guys find us, by the way? Was it Joel? He said there might be some new recruits coming from Crystal Springs this week.” Cal directs their scrutinizing gaze toward Bells, who awkwardly waves back.

They grin, making the freckles on their face dance with movement. They push their goggles up to the top of their head. “Not that I mind. The more the merrier!”

“Is this… everyone?” Bells asks, eyeing the five of them.

“Oh no, not at all! There are countless devotees all across the NAC who meet in secret to watch banned pre-Collective films, including the amazing trilogy—”