It took a few minutes, but I unclipped the straps that were securing the box in place, and laid them across the ground. I lifted the box, and set it down on the straps. I connected them, wrapping them around the box, then slid it around so I could reach the ones at the back. There was a ramp built into the truck, and I could see where the box could slide along the tracks, but it seemed like more of a hassle to use the ramp and unload that way.

“How dangerous is this team business going to be?” Julien asked, behind me.

“Dad,” Kenzie protested. “Don’t embarrass me.”

“If I thought it was going to be a serious danger, I wouldn’t be helping,” I said, still working on the straps. “But I can’t guarantee anything.”

I fastened the straps, then hauled the entire thing out, forcefield up, gripping the box. It thudded against the street. Dense.

“Is it a problem?” I asked Julien.

“It’s not a problem,” Kenzie said, firm. “I can handle myself. I’ve trained more than a lot of heroes, because I did a year going to all the practice events and stuff.”

“I’m more interested in what your dad has to say. I don’t want to step on toes, and your parents get the last word.”

“It’s fine,” Julien said. “If it wasn’t this, she would be doing something else. I prefer this team idea.”

“You should,” Kenzie huffed.

“Do you need to be picked up?”

“Yes, please. In…?” Kenzie looked at me.

“Two hours?” I asked. “Is that okay?”

“It’s fine,” her dad said. He still had that tone, which came across curt, inflexible. I had a hard time imagining him as a salesman. Accountant, maybe.

“Before you do anything, can you go to the train station? Rain had to take the train and he’s running late. Bring him here?” Kenzie asked.

Her dad frowned.

“Please,” Kenzie said.

“Where am I going?” he asked.

“Give me your phone, I’ll put it in there.”

While they fussed, I checked and fixed the remainder of the straps.

“I’ll be right back,” I said.

The straps served to let me hold the box without actually holding it. I flew, holding the length of straps that I’d wound together and attached at the tail end. The box made for unwieldy flying, swinging below me.

Could the forcefield potentially claw through them? Yes. I hoped I’d be able to see it before it managed to succeed.

I flew in the direction I’d sent the others, leaving Kenzie behind.

My phantom self gripped the length of straps, scratched, squeezed, and twisted it, periodically making the ten foot length of cords bend in unusual shapes.