overworked right now,” Bridgette says softly, as if she’s attempting to appease a toddler on the verge of a tantrum. “But we really are trying to do our part.”
“By doing what?” he sneers.
“Ugh, there’s no point in telling you unless it turns out to be useful!” I groan, so tired of him needing to micromanage everything I do.
His nostrils flare as he straightens, clutching his tablet to his chest as if he too is holding a secret. “Fine, don’t tell me. Go hurl yourselves into an unprotected city and see if I care. But know this—nothing gets past me at HQ, and you’ll be sorry you messed with me.”
His words stay with me as we ascend to Michigan Ave, ready to call someone with actual power. Ugh, Teddy. Always so melodramatic. For someone who says he loves Warrior Nation, he sure acts like it’s the worst.
Why aren’t other heroes doing anything?
WarriorHunt.usa
Okay, so the Chicago chapter is MIA, but wtf is up with the rest of Warrior Nation? Besides a few pathetic tweets, NO ONE is saying anything! What are we WarNats supposed to think? Is this the beginning of the end or what?! Get off your asses, Boston! NYC! LA! Where you at? Has Warrior Nation locked you all away?
@TruWarriorGrrl
yeah. Like I really like all the chapters but this silence is ??? Also, I know Blue Streak just retired but the least he could do is issue a statement or
something. Ease our worries and stuff. C’mon, man. Grow a pair.
@NeverCeaseNeverSour
that dude is so media shy. He never says shit! Millie practically has to force him to open his mouth.
@SillyMouseTrap
honestly forgotten what his voice even sounds like
@GirlPowerSparksJoy
I live in Chicago and some local WarNats are organizing a demonstration outside Blue Streak’s house tomorrow. Let him know we still love him and need him! Any and all are welcome.
@WindyCityWarrior
nice! Details?
@VaporLover29
sign me up!
@TrueBlueStreak
love this, I’ll be there.
I’VE ONLY BEEN TO CHARLES’S HOUSE ONCE. A cocktail party, thrown by his late wife. Matt and I had just started dating, and I felt very grown up going to an event like that. The two of us spent most of the time trying to see how many maraschino cherries we could fit in our mouths, which was not very mature, but we were having fun being dressed up, holding crystal tumblers, and eating appetizers we could barely pronounce. I only remember seeing Charles once that night, sipping bourbon alone in his library, stealing a moment away from hosting. Despite being one of the most recognizable faces on the planet, he’s a very quiet guy. He came up at a time when Warriors were more focused on work than building a brand. While his face may have graced a cereal box or two, he certainly never worried about his image. No website, no social media: He did his job without needing attention, only answering the call of danger, not fame.
After taking the Purple Line up to Evanston, an affluent suburb just north of Chicago, we start the walk to his home, a legit mansion on the shores of Lake Michigan. As we pass by artisan shops and farm-to-table restaurants, I can’t help but notice the increased presence of law enforcement, with armed officers patrolling the sidewalks and police cars slowly cruising by every few minutes. The city is on high alert, waiting for the aftermath of the Warriors’ capture. Will the villains who kidnapped our heroes make themselves known? Ask for ransom or make other demands? The chapter has been missing for almost twenty-four hours now, and the longer they’re gone, the higher the stakes.
I’m obsessively checking my phone for updates, while Claire grows increasingly distant, slowly imploding the closer we get to Charles’s home. A subtle sort of mania has crept over her, eyes wild and hands constantly rubbing against her shorts.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask her—a stupid question, really, considering the emotional roller coaster she’s on. But even with her girlfriend being in danger and the two of us going solo on this side mission, there’s an extra element of panic rising in her since we got off the train.
“Uhhh…” She tucks stray pieces from her French braid back behind her ears, nervously smiling like a guilty party who just got caught. “Not really.”
When she doesn’t elaborate, I prod. “Because…?”
She stops, nervous energy forcing her feet to jog in place. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Do what? Help the Warriors? This was your idea—”
“No. I mean meet Blue Streak.” She grimaces with embarrassment.
I