Aidan popped into existence on a roof somewhere in the city. He landed with a hard thud and rolled. His nylon jacket crinkled as he came to a stop.
Bruce popped into the air next to him. The old man wailed.
Two Timberland boots landed in front of Aidan’s eyes. He tracked the boots up over black jeans, a denim jacket, and finally, to his brother’s face, whose head cast a corona across the sky.
Kirk stared at him from behind his usual sunglasses, but it wasn’t his brother. His eyes, normally cool and calm, were crazed and wild. His brother’s face had a perpetual devious grin that replaced his usual stoic expressions.
Aidan recoiled and crawled backward. The roof was covered in graffiti. A rusted-out water tower lay a few yards away. Below, an L train whooshed by.
“What are you afraid of
