Bones of the Past (Villains' Code Book 2)

by Drew Hayes

  Medley came in swinging again, claws and tail flowing naturally. He’d been training, yet it was more than that. This was like he’d been learning to fight specifically using these weapons. Did the AHC offer some sort of inhuman martial arts program for people like Medley? Whatever the cause, Hephaestus was suitably impressed by his improvement, even as she deflected his attacks.

  Capes weren’t the only ones who got to grow after wins and losses, however. Compared to the last time they met, Hephaestus was markedly faster, stronger, and tougher, thanks to the various design upgrades. Her improved movement was showing the most benefits of all, as Hephaestus was able to somewhat keep pace with the furious flurry of attacks.

  The ranged shot to her knee, unfortunately, slowed Hephaestus down. She could see Cyber Geek crouched at a distance, that comically huge video game gun propped up and taking aim once more. To her shock, Medley swung, and then leapt aside, giving Cyber Geek a perfect window. Hephaestus only just barely managed to dodge a second shot to the leg. This wasn’t just some makeshift tactic on the fly; they’d trained this way, with Cyber Geek sniping as Medley wore the enemy down.

  On the upside, he was still a cape, which meant the shot had been intended to wound rather than annihilate. Though Hephaestus wouldn’t be completing any marathons until after the repairs, she could stay standing, for however much good that did. At that thought, another notion popped into mind. Why was she bothering with her legs at all? Landing had been essential to deal with Cyber Geek and Medley, but they were well past that point.

  Using the momentary space Medley had so graciously provided, Hephaestus fired up her jets and shot into the sky, earning an angry yowl as he attempted an ineffectual pounce. From here, she could see the battlefield more effectively. Bahamut and Agent Quantum resembled prizefighters, exchanging punches like pleasantries at a church social. Plasmodia hung near the edge, ready to help; however, the tight confines of the fight limited her ability to shoot. Tachyonic and Presto were working on untangling themselves, hindered by Tachyonic suddenly speeding up and slowing down at inopportune moments. Medley was yowling, Cyber Geek was taking aim, and on top of the strip mall, Hephaestus could see what she’d been hoping for.

  A mass of buzzing and wings swirled as Pest Control summoned more and more insects: some meta, some mundane, all of them annoying. Since Glyph was at his side, Hephaestus could take a general guess as to what the plan was. Get the bugs to critical mass, drop a bomb of confusion on the battlefield, and that was their window to escape. She and Bahamut would both have to make it onto the roof—not an easy task in their current situation.

  The shot blazing past her visor reminded Hephaestus that Cyber Geek wasn’t going to aim forever; eventually, he’d pull the trigger. She had to minimize their ranged options for the escape. Plasmodia’s power was internal, whereas Cyber Geek’s could be taken away.

  That made the choice for her. Hephaestus dove, Medley already scrambling to meet her. It was his turn to be too slow, as she took a shot from Cyber Geek in the left shoulder just before landing. Alarms blared, and she was notified that functionality in the arm was reduced by roughly thirty percent. He was getting pretty good with that rifle, stupid size or not.

  Since it was so conveniently propped up on the ground, Hephaestus dropped the entirety of her weight and landed directly on the huge barrel. No doubt the fictional gun was meant to withstand a huge amount of damage; however, hundreds of pounds of metal slamming into a section with no support underneath was simply too much physics to be ignored. It snapped clean down the middle, turning back into blue sparks as it dissolved.

  “This didn’t have to be a fight.” Looking down at him, Hephaestus saw something she wasn’t prepared for: fear. Cyber Geek was afraid of her, and why not? She’d just injured him, stood momentarily against the New Science Sentries, and had now easily broken his go-to weapon. More interesting than that was that despite the fear he so plainly wore, Cyber Geek’s hands were still glowing as he went for more items. Fear be damned. He wasn’t giving up.

  “Maybe not,” Cyber Geek agreed. “But unless you’re willing to surrender, I don’t see it ending.”

  Rather than respond, Hephaestus whirled around, firing a shot from her left gauntlet into Medley’s hip. Sneaking up on her in the middle of battle was one thing; she had no intention of letting him within swinging distance again. By the time she’d turned back, Cyber Geek had manifested a large green wrench with various runes on it.

  “It’s called the Wrecking Wrench, from Clankbur’s Junkyard Journey. Nowhere near my best building tool, but it does triple damage to anything mechanical to help tear it apart.” Apparently, Medley wasn’t the only one sore over the last time—an item like that had obviously been planned for Hephaestus, or any other person wearing a meta-suit.

  A huge explosion tore the night, stealing the attention of everyone in the strip mall parking lot. Further down the street, a car had detonated so aggressively that it flipped over and was now casting light from the roaring flames. Hephaestus might have been confused, save for the buzzing she’d paid such close attention to. It suddenly swelled in volume, her lone warning before the swarm fell upon them. Glyph must have snuck around to set something up, a starter pistol of sorts.

  It was like a blanket of bugs covered the entire area. Cursing, swatting, even some yelps rang out as the clear night became hideously obscured. To Hephaestus, it was the sound of sweet escape, as she used the combo of distractions to leap back into the night. Briefly, she feared the bugs would clog her engine, but she quickly broke through them into the clear night air of the sky. Through the swirling insects, she could just make out Agent Quantum trying to chase Bahamut, even as her scales shifted from green to white.

  Taking a cue out of Cyber Geek’s tactics, Hephaestus fired off a few blasts, one searing Agent Quantum’s shoulder. While it was nowhere near enough to stop him, the delay gave Bahamut room to escape, and once she’d flapped those white wings past the layer of bugs, Hephaestus set a course for the roof.

  A few stray shots from Plasmodia rang out; however, she couldn’t risk shooting any real power blindly, and even the few she dared quickly faded as more shouts came from within the bugs. Hephaestus and Bahamut both slammed down into the roof in short succession, grouping in next to Glyph and a loudly panting Pest Control. Calling up that many bugs in that short of time must have taken it out of him. They owed him a drink when this was over.

  “Please tell me we’re good to go.” In that moment, her greatest fear was a guild order to keep distracting the capes. They’d managed this far thanks largely to surprise, an element of battle that was quickly fading. Much longer, and the whole team was as good as captured.

  “Officially cleared. Things are wrapping up, anyway,” Glyph reported, saving Pest Control the effort. “Everyone, get around me, now.”

  They all complied, laying hands on Glyph, just to be safe, as he pointed the wand downward and released the stored spell. In flaring purple light, a complex circle formed around all four, composed of runes and symbols Hephaestus had no frame of reference for. Magic was its own thing, and she didn’t have to understand it to be thankful as the spell activated, tearing them all from the strip mall roof in Ebnerville.

  Unlike with Presto’s power, this was more akin to the whole world flashing purple, then looking different as a new scene faded into view. They were near Ridge City—Hephaestus could recognize the lights from here—except, given the distance, they had to be at least half an hour’s drive from downtown, if not more.

  “With this spell, you have to set the teleportation point in advance,” Glyph explained. He was stepping out of a matching circle to the one they’d left in, only this one was seared into the dirt. “It’s possible to follow if someone had jumped into the circle with us, so I set it out in the middle of nowhere, just to be safe.”

  “Good call. Showing up with a cape at the guild would be bad for everyone—most of all the cape,” Hephaestus agreed. “Where to now?�
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  “Nearest highway is three miles from here. That’s where the guild car will meet us.” Finally somewhat recovered, Pest Control got the words out, albeit breathily.

  “We could fly,” Bahamut suggested. She spread her large wings, illustrating the point.

  “After tonight, I’m okay with keeping as low a profile as possible. At least until we’re back at the guild.” Hephaestus hitched an arm under Pest Control for support as they began walking down the dirt path.

  A few seconds later, Bahamut took the other side with a freshly shifted green arm. In a way, it felt almost like their first training exercise, where Pest Control had crossed the finish line with a broken leg. If only that had been their night. Giant killer robots were a pain, but outside of surprise sentience, they didn’t tend to hold grudges.

  Capes, on the other hand, had far better memories, especially for the quarries who slipped away.

  Chapter 62

  Bloodbath didn’t even begin to describe it. Chunks, viscera, tendons, perhaps a rogue finger here and there—those were the largest pieces the forensics team was finding as they combed through what could most accurately be called a cold flesh stew.

  Standing above them, watching the proceedings with calculated indifference, Professor Quantum observed as the Ebnerville police worked, aided by several AHC resources. These were helpful for smaller towns not equipped to deal with such catastrophes and were able to respond faster than any government agency could hope to. Of course, since the resources belonged to the Alliance of Heroic Champions, any information uncovered in the aftermath would also flow directly to them. Whatever the cost of this nicety, it had paid for itself thousands of times over already in useful data.

  Tonight, he feared, would be an exception to that rule. When he’d heard his team had faced combat, Professor Quantum knew he had to witness the scene. He’d been expecting another move from his unseen adversary, perhaps more merchandise from the past, but merely being a superhero came with its own conflicts. In this case, it hadn’t been related to a lingering grudge, or not one aimed toward Professor Quantum, anyway. Worse, this was clearly guild work; the utter lack of evidence confirmed that the longer the scene was searched. Professor Quantum had already suspected as much, once he arrived on scene and got the full debrief.

  The suit and dragon were newer recruits; he’d skimmed the files and therefore, his brain could easily recall such details. They’d been linked to the museum heist, which Apollo had conjectured to be a training mission for new villains. It seemed the training wheels were now off, if they’d been able to last against his team. Some of that might have been to blame on Lodestar and her soft methods. When he’d sent them from Vomisa, they were a fine-tuned battle engine, capable of handling threats even beyond their actual powers. The advocacy of softness had, quite expectedly, weakened them. A necessary sacrifice to keep the AHC at large appeased, but one that he would have to minimize the impact of.

  Between the low-level lackeys playing lookout and the absolute decimation on the scene, there was little need to even call this speculation. Someone had wronged the guild, and they’d responded. Were Lodestar here, there would have been hand-wringing for the ones they couldn’t save, whereas Professor Quantum didn’t especially care. If any of these had the potential to be worthy test subjects, they’d have survived, so it was no great loss.

  The larger issue was that the New Science Sentries had taken a defeat. By his standards, if not the AHC’s. Such errors were unacceptable, especially considering they’d been facing off with a pair of villain rookies. Between their numbers and training, it should have been effortless. These were not the results he’d invested so much time into that team to reap. They were going to have to step up, and soon; otherwise, he’d be forced to move on to his contingency plans.

  A team wasn’t set in stone, after all, and there were plenty of other candidates back on Vomisa. If they couldn’t pull together, then he’d simply tear the configuration apart and try again, as many times as it took, to create a proper team of successors. He would not allow the name of Science Sentries to be dragged down by their ineptitude. Not after all the work that had gone into establishing it.

  Professor Quantum turned away from the scene, hand on his phone, the next task already on his mind.

  With the program finally running, Tori fell back into a sitting position, sighing in relief. The walk back to the highway hadn’t been a fun one, nor was waiting until the coast was clear to load everyone in to a guild SUV. After that, things got easier. It was just a drive to the country club and a hop through the portal to get back to the guild’s volcano lair and, by extension, her spare room.

  Pausing only long enough for a shower, Tori’s first task was running diagnostics on the Hephaestus suit. It had taken some finagling to get the laptop cord connected—the port had been slightly warped during the battle—but with the diagnostics now flashing on-screen, Tori could check the damage her creation had sustained. All things considered, it had held up well. However, from what she was already seeing, there weren’t a lot of hits left for it to take. Another good shot and something critical might have gone offline. With ease of movement becoming less of an issue, it was time to move on to defense.

  While her current suit had been redesigned and tweaked, she’d been using the same base components as much as possible. It was her habit, as a thief and a scrounger, plus it helped to keep the costs in check. Looking over the claw marks Medley had managed to leave in a shoulder plate, it was evident that her armor was in need of an upgrade. Last time, she’d used metals that were high quality, but also mundane. To tangle with metas, the suit had to be able to withstand more damage. Energy shields ate power, most of which she was directing toward mobility and offense. Changing the base material would be the fix that required the least amount of work to keep up, but also the most effort up front. Tori would have to actually invent or steal a meta-alloy to make her suit out of one.

  That was a long-term concern; the more immediate issue was getting her suit up and running again. She didn’t have plans to take Hephaestus out again anytime soon, yet Tori didn’t feel quite right with her armor temporarily out of commission. When it was down, she lacked the choice to be Hephaestus, and that rubbed against her brain wrong for reasons that Tori couldn’t fully articulate.

  Repairs would be extensive, and also would have to wait for another day. With diagnostics running, she couldn’t do much, so Tori departed her room and headed down to the lounge on her floor. Doctor Mechaniacal hadn’t changed much about the guild’s overall layout style; everyone was largely able to navigate easily, even with the new locations that had been added. Part of that consistency included communal areas on every floor where residents could spend time together. Tori noted that once again, she and the other rookies were largely on their own, though that probably wouldn’t last forever. She’d easily counted that there were far more rooms on this floor than were currently being used.

  Upon entering, Tori’s plans for a simple snack were dashed, as she came upon Warren, Lance, and Beverly, all sans costumes and identities, rooting through the shared fridge. “Whoever stocks this really goes all out. Beers, ciders, sodas—what’ll it be?” Lance’s meaty arm was shoved halfway into the chilly white box, like it was trying to swallow him whole, only to choke on his wide shoulders.

  “I suppose tonight has earned an indulgence. I’ll try one of those ciders, please.” Warren accepted the can he was given, turning it over a few times in his hand.

  Beverly reached in over Lance, grabbing a lager as well as a stout. “More of a wine person, but I’ve knocked back a few in my day. Tori, I got you.” With casual ease, Beverly tossed the stout, which Tori caught easily. After the evening’s events, everything felt heightened, right down to her reflexes, though eventually, they’d all crash hard. At least tomorrow was Sunday—no work and hopefully no neighbors.

  At the thought of the New Science Sentries, Tori inwardly winced. They definitely hadn’t been pa
rt of tonight’s plan, and a piece of her felt awkward about the idea of seeing them again. That was silly, though, she reminded herself. The capes hadn’t dealt with Tori or Beverly tonight. They’d only fought Hephaestus and Bahamut, beings entirely unrelated to the women they shared a building with.

  Cracking open her beer, Tori swigged down a sip, saying a silent toast to Ivan and his insistence that she maintain a secret identity. This evening had made her grateful all over again for the distance between Hephaestus and Tori.

  Shifting the ice pack elicited a fresh wave of pain, followed by merciful relief. The Alliance of Heroic Champions had many high-tech treatment options for capes who were injured in the field, from basic medical supplies all the way up to a few metas who could actually repair flesh within moments. As with most services, however, priority was determined by need. On a Saturday night, there were superheroes who required the advanced treatments for injuries far worse than a broken nose.

  Donald made no complaints as he waited, sitting on a plastic-lined chair with a rag and an ice pack to handle his injury. Even being here felt ridiculous; except, waiting for the nose to heal naturally would leave a big bright target on his face for everyone they fought. Keeping the injury and being less effective was a folly of pride, something Donald couldn’t allow to be more important than the job.

  Given that this was the waiting area for low-priority treatments, Donald was more or less alone, with only the occasional attendant stepping in to check on him. When the door opened, that’s who he assumed it was, until he caught sight of a familiar blue costume. Rather than go for a rag, Tachyonic had elected to stuff tissues into both his nostrils, a bit of red seeping into view on the white material.