space is remarkably dust-free, as if someone had been working here recently. “Claire!” I shout, thinking Matt must have been here. She jogs over, clutching a study labeled “Mental and Physical Illnesses Common Among Heroes” in her arms.
“Did you find something?”
“Did you?” I ask, nodding to her file.
“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I’ve kind of been grabbing random things. There’s just so much to see!”
“This table—it looks like someone was recently here.” I gesture to the dust-free spot. “Maybe there’s something—”
“Whoa, is this a VCR?” Claire sets down her file, leaning in for a closer look at the out-of-date device. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of these.”
“I think we had one, when I was little,” I say. I fumble with the buttons, pushing a variety of commands before hitting eject. Out pops a video tape, a clunky black box with inner coils of ribbon. Claire and I look at each other, simultaneously saying, “We have to watch!”
After rewinding to the beginning, the TV screen opens with a title card that reads:
Radiator—Exit Interview
The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.
“Oh yeah, that guy!” Claire instantly chirps, mind like a steel trap. “He was a Chicago hero about, hmm, eight years ago? But only for like two years. I think he could jump-start machinery with his fingers or something? Yeah. He didn’t like being in the spotlight, though, so he left.”
The video fades to Radiator himself, sitting alone at a table with a light overhead, not unlike an interrogation scene. He smiles warmly, clean-shaven honey skin beaming, answering a series of questions from an off-screen speaker.
“Why are you leaving Warrior Nation?” the male interrogator asks.
“I am appreciative of all the time and effort put forth by this worthy team.” He grins. “But I’m afraid this life is not for me.”
“And why is that?”
Radiator shrugs, kind eyes offering their apology. “I like helping people, but being in the spotlight is a type of pressure I didn’t anticipate. I don’t feel comfortable with people knowing me, recognizing me on the streets.”
I laugh to myself. “This guy is so different from Matt.”
Radiator continues. “Also—and I mean no disrespect—but there have been times when I feel Warrior Nation doesn’t take my opinions into consideration. The things I want get pushed aside. I understand it takes a lot to run an organization as large as this, and I’m sure there are many moving parts I’m not even aware of, but I don’t want my voice getting lost. I don’t see myself being happy in this life, so I feel it’s in everyone’s best interest if we part ways sooner rather than later.”
We watch the whole interview, before it cycles to a different exit interview, this time with PsychTyke, a hero I definitely remember. She experienced severe mental and physical trauma in the 1980s after a failed mission that involved electricity frying her internal systems. We start her video, set in the same room as Radiator’s, but after a few seconds of watching her sob uncontrollably, I hit stop.
“She passed away a year ago,” Claire says sadly. “Such a terrible loss.”
I nod, but the content of these videos isn’t the only thing confusing me. “Why do you think these interviews are on VHS? I mean, who even uses VCRs anymore?”
“It is weird, especially since almost everything at HQ is digital. Besides your mural, there’s barely any paper here, with everything else accessible from the main server. I mean, I can’t access everything with my low clearance, but theoretically everything’s there for the taking.”
“Except for this, I guess,” I add. “You can’t hack a video tape.”
We fast-forward to the next title screen, only to find Blue Streak’s name flashing before us. Claire perks up, eyes wide in interest, though her brows quickly curl in confusion. Instead of being greeted by the stoic, iron-willed man the world has come to expect, Charles is disheveled. Gray stubble prickles his jaw, and rage runs rampant on his face. He’s seething, teeth clenched tight, staring at the camera like he wants to rip out the spine of the person controlling it. The hair on my arms stands at attention. Something isn’t right.
The off-camera interviewer, a woman this time, starts with the same questions as with Radiator and PsychTyke, but Charles ignores them completely, ready to spew whatever has him so riled up.
“A total charade right until the end, huh?” he growls, cracking his knuckles. “Think you can throw me through this last hoop even after forcing me out?”
“Wait, what?” Claire