Gruefield 18 (Tarnished Sterling Omnibus)

by Robert McCarroll

  "Paint was a dumbass," Markus said, rushing Razordemon. The smaller man quickly sidestepped the charge, snagged Markus' wrist, hooked his ankle and redirected his momentum right into the pavement. "Oh, that's the stuff," Markus said, hopping up. "Indestructible, baby!" Razordemon ducked a clumsy swing and jabbed several pressure points. Markus didn't notice.

  "Stop standing in the way!" Luka called out.

  "More of 'em coming," Happy said, pointing at the four figures flying in low. Ed had a hand on Kevan's shoulder to keep him steady.

  "Shoot it," Markus said. "If we're gonna brawl 'em all, you gotta pull your weight." Markus continued to fail in his efforts to land a punch on the much more nimble Razordemon. Hesitantly, Happy injected himself.

  "That's funky," he said as a glow started to develop in his eyes. The ruby red beams of energy that shot out sent the four fliers scattering. Happy screamed in pain as he realized he wasn't immune to heat, and he'd blinked. The beams hardly flickered as they seared through his eyelids. The radiant heat began to singe his face and his hair started to smolder. "Make it stop! Make it stop!" he screamed, flailing about. The wildly swinging beams ripped through nearby cars, gouging molten clefts through the metal. It ignited the asphalt in the pavement along its weaving path, and forced Luka to throw himself to the ground. Cables snapped where Happy's gaze passed over them. Where the beams washed over the thicker steel of the arch proper, it glowed red-hot.

  Razordemon abandoned his tussle with Markus and ran to Happy. Grabbing the sides of his head, Razordemon kept Happy's gaze skyward. Trying to take advantage of his immobility, Markus charged the two. Markus' punches rained down on a carapace of flat steel bands. The skin on Happy's face was beginning to bubble and sizzle from the heat streaming off the eye beams. The skinny young man couldn't stop screaming. Markus took a horrified step back and ran away from the wrecked Lexus.

  He vaulted the Jersey barrier, forgetting that eastbound traffic was still moving. A school bus reminded him. Leaving a human-shaped dent in the radiator, Markus was carried along as the bus skidded. Errol landed on the hood of the bus, tapping off the amulet. His wings melted away in a scattering of glowing feathers. Stepping down the side, he pushed the door open. The airbag had deployed, so he leaned the driver back.

  "I'm fine," she snapped.

  As he turned to face the passengers, Errol realized the bus carried a girl's sports team. He wasn't sure what school they were from, or what sport they played, but all of them seemed to have their cell phones out, recording him. "Are you ladies all right?" he asked, advancing partway down the aisle. The voice modulator made him sound far better than he naturally did.

  "In-de-fucking-structable!" Markus shouted, hauling himself onto the hood. With a few angry punches, he knocked the right half of the windshield out of its frame. Errol whipped an electroshock arrow from his quiver into nock and pegged Markus in the chest. It was a different pattern than he was used to, dumping its capacitors in one big jolt. Markus flinched backwards as his muscles spasmed and a dose of electricity shot right through his pain receptors. For a moment, he was balanced precariously on the edge of the hood. Errol followed up his first shot with a concussion arrow. The blast knocked Markus off the hood and onto the pavement. Concussive arrows were meant to be fired near the target to disorient them, but, after the bus, Errol doubted it had done him much harm.

  Errol grew acutely aware of the number of cameras focused on him. He was suddenly grateful for his mask and the fake hair. He hurried off the bus under the pretense of staying in the fight. Luka had hopped over into the eastbound lanes, and was hurling a rapid string of fireballs into the sky. Ed wove between them, trying to not let on how terrified he was.

  "Is that all you've got?" Ed asked. "I've seen old men in wheelchairs throw faster punches than that." Luka didn't hear him.

  Markus hopped to his feet and pounded his chest several times. "See? Indestructible!" Kevan landed with a thud, on his feet but far from gracefully. "You want a piece of this too?" Markus asked.

  Kevan straightened up, planted both feet firmly on the pavement and motioned with both hands. "Bring it." Markus charged, delivering reckless punch after reckless punch to Kevan's chest. Kevan didn't even flinch. "Weak," Kevan said, delivering a right hook that knocked Markus sideways. "I'm a third-stringer and you ain't even in my league." Roaring, Markus hopped back up and delivered another flurry of punches, including several to Kevan's bronze helmet. Markus didn't appear to feel any pain from the impacts, but neither did Kevan. With a second punch, Kevan sent Markus back to the pavement.

  "Will you stand still!" Luka shouted.

  "It's not me you needed to worry about," Ed said.

  "What?" Luka's question was answered as Lazar's fist connected with his jaw. Lazar's camouflage melted away as he delivered a punch to Luka's gut. All but dancing around Luka, Lazar kept the hits coming as he eluded the erratic fire blasts. As the red beams on the other side stopped, Ed turned his attention toward the westbound mess. Happy's face was a charred cinder, and the rest of his head was not that much better off. Razordemon's hands were smoldering even as he stepped away from the body. Before he could wonder how badly hurt the hero was, a shadow passed over him.

  Ed looked up to see a pair of leathery, flesh-toned wings attached to an angry girl hurtling out of the sky at him. In the moment before she collided with him, Ed thought the electric blue hair was too familiar. As they smacked painfully into the pavement, Ed remembered where he'd seen her before. The fact that she checked his hands for sonic stunners clinched it. Stamp's blue-and-white costume had no back so that she could sprout her wings. Her hair matched the blue in her outfit, and her white-and-blue mask only covered a third of her face.

  "Hello again," Ed said, pained. "Don't sidekicks usually need chaperones?" As if to answer his question, a glowing gold vice clamped about both Lazar and Luka. The psychic construct pinned them apart. Ed looked around for the source of the construct. She stood on a glowing golden disc over the school bus. Dressed in bright blue and gold, the blond woman looked down impassively at the scene. "Cuter than your last chaperone," Ed said.

  "Stuff it, Earworm," Stamp said.

  "Get off of him," Kevan said, dropping Markus again with a knee to the gut and an elbow to the back of the head.

  "We ain't finished, red!" Markus said, pulling himself to his feet. "I told you I am indestructible." Kevan caught Markus' punch.

  "You're embarrassing yourself," Kevan said. "You're indestructible., but you haven't got any strength. Give it up."

  Errol reached for an arrow, only to find his quiver suspiciously empty. "Yoink," a light purple blur said as his bow was yanked from his grip. The blur stopped by the railing, showing herself to be a pencil-thin woman in an all-encompassing light purple suit. A black box covered the mouth of the mask. She quickly disassembled the bow and chucked the pieces over the railing. "Got any other tricks, Cupid?" she asked.

  "You're as badly outclassed as Mister Indestructible. there," the woman on the golden disc said.

  "Prove it," Kevan said.

  Razordemon hopped the Jersey barrier. "This should be fun," the girl in purple said, crossing her arms. He posture shifted to one of confusion as Razordemon marched past Kevan and grabbed her upper arm.

  "What are you doing?" Razordemon asked.

  "Neutralizing the brawl," she said.

  Razordemon gestured towards the flying disc with one arm. "You had eyes in the sky. I'm not exactly inconspicuous. You should have asked what the situation was before jumping in."

  "But--"

  "You just attacked another fund team!"

  "Hate to break it to you," Stamp said, "But this twerp's a known criminal."

  "Yes, I know," Razordemon said. "They're Junior Redemptioners. They're paying their debt to society by helping us out. The gang members are the perpetrators.
Miss Pain, release Birdstrike. Stamp, get off Earworm."

  "I'm guessing you mean the one in the mask," Miss Pain said. Half the construct evaporated in a shower of sparkles. Lazar gave a polite bow towards Miss Pain.

  "You chose correctly, ma'am."

  Grudgingly, Stamp let Ed stand up.

  "Umm," Errol said. "About my bow..." Razordemon's gaze turned back to the girl in purple.

  "I thought he was a bad guy, I disassembled it and threw the pieces over the side."

  "That was a very expensive piece of hardware," Razordemon said. "And his personal property. The replacement is going to come out of your account. You are going to deliver it personally, along with an apology. Am I clear?"

  "Yes, Dad."

  Part 8

  The sun had set and it was past curfew by the time they got back to the halfway house. Kevan slumped on the couch with a grunt and pulled off his helmet. It came free in a spray of trapped sweat. He scratched at the side of his face, growing ever more confounded. "My mask won't come off."

  "Dude, that's your face," Lazar said, picking Kevan's mask up off the floor. "The helmet yanked the mask off."

  "Why do you wear both anyway?" Ed asked.

  "In case I need to take the helmet off."

  "But if it keeps yanking the mask off anyway..."

  "Helmet needs to be redesigned," Kevan said. "I'm dying in that thing." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. He opened it, frowned, and tossed it on the coffee table. Lazar picked it up.

  "'In your dreams'? What's this?" Lazar asked.

  "I asked Stamp for her number," Kevan said. "I thought she'd given it to me."

  "She plays rough," Ed said, feigning fixing his spine.

  "I can take it," Kevan said.

  Errol put his metal mask on the table and fished the voice modulator out from behind the neck of his suit. "These things make your throat hurt after a while," he said. "I thought they were supposed to prevent injury."

  "Funny," Ed said. "I don't feel anything. And I talk a lot more than you."

  "It may just be you," Kevan said.

  "Anyone ever figure out where we were supposed to have gone?" Lazar asked.

  "I thought you were headed to a training center for further evaluation," Gabe said.

  "There was traffic on the bridge," Ed said.

  "The cops were pissed too," Kevan said. "What was that Detective's name again?"

  "Esposito," Lazar said. "Of course he's pissed, they have to close the Shining Future Arch for repairs. They're going to have to divert traffic to the First Street bridge. A drawbridge on a road not meant to handle the traffic and runs right through a high crime area. His job is going to be..." Lazar glanced towards Gabe and censored himself, "Pretty busy."

  "I realized today that we never really asked what anyone's powers are," Ed said. "I'm afraid all I've got is flight. I used to have some gadgets to make up for it, but what the police didn't steal, Stamp broke."

  "The term is confiscate," Gabe said.

  "Confiscate is a fancy word for steal."

  "Says the co-conspirator on a burglary," Lazar said. "You already know I'm not that good at flying,"

  "Hence the name," Ed said.

  "Shut up. I can camouflage myself, but it impairs my vision greatly. I also have improved reflexes on the ground. The last one comes in handy in a fight."

  "Well," Kevan said. "I got three that I know of. I got strength, I got toughness, and I got anchoring."

  "Anchoring?" Ed asked.

  "You plant your feet on the ground and resist being moved in any direction, even up or down. Works on dirt, pavement, heck it'd probably work on glass. I'd have wrecked the bus worse than mister 'I'm invincible' on the bridge if I'd been hit. Don't know how badly that would have wrecked me though."

  "I haven't got any powers," Errol said.

  "We heard," Ed said.

  "If you can't see when camouflaged, how'd you find the fire guy?" Errol asked.

  "I can see," Lazar said, "Just not very well. Big bright lights and the sounds of him shooting off fireballs were hard to miss."

  "What were the chances we'd run into Stamp again?" Lazar asked. "One of these days she's going to break one of us."

  "Well," Ed said. "Just have Kevan keep chasing her, and she'll keep away of her own accord."

  "Hey!" Kevan said, but Ed just waved the slip of paper at him. Gabe snatched the paper away.

  "Your mouth is this close to getting you in trouble again," Gabe said, holding his thumb and forefinger a quarter inch apart. "It's late, and you guys have school in the morning. Go to bed."

  The cafeteria at Leyden Academy had long white tables and sturdy blue chairs. The color combination reminded Errol of something, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it. Along one wall was a bulletin board and display cases stuffed with academic and athletic awards recently earned by the student body. Opposite that was the kitchen and the line for lunch. A third wall contained a large mural of the school crest, and the fourth was made up of windows overlooking the parking lot. Setting down his blue molded fiberglass tray, he claimed a seat in the least popular corner of the room. It was the corner between the display cases and the mural. As his brain wandered to the fact that the school provided actual metal utensils, another tray landed near his.

  "Missed you yesterday," Fae said, sitting down.

  "I was here, we just don't have any classes together."

  "Well, there's lunch."

  "I spent that time yesterday listening to the headmaster tell me he was going to report every demerit I earned to the reform program. And to stay away from Sarah Fox, which I planned to do anyway."

  "Are you making excuses?"

  "No, I just figured I should let you know. The other guys are in public school. They don't have to wear ties, let alone get in trouble if they're not tied just the right way."

  Fae frowned. "I didn't come over here to listen to you complain about ties."

  "Is there something you did want to talk about?"

  "Maybe you."

  "My mind is on forks and ties," Errol said, holding up the utensil in question.

  "You stammer less than you used to."

  "I... You... You've tripped me up now that I'm thinking about it."

  Fae laughed. "So about yesterday?"

  "What about it?"

  "Have you seen the video going around the school?"

  "They took my phone away, and computer time is bought with the same privilege points I'm trying to save up to get time for a date with you."

  "You could have just said no." Fae pulled out her phone and held it out so Errol could watch the video play out. It had been recorded by another cell phone in the back of a school bus. It started by following a pair of red beams shooting into the sky. It progressed through the rest of the fight, having caught a very good shot of Errol landing on the hood when it tried to see what they'd hit. Errol was creeped out by the way the videographer's attention had latched on to him at that point, even after he was no longer in the fight.

  "Interesting," Errol said.

  "News said Razordemon was there with four Junior Redemptioners," Fae said before switching to a whisper. "And that candy-apple red bow reminds me of one that earned a Loxley Medal just to go to dinner with me."

  "Please don't tell anybody," Errol said.

  "Oh?"

  "There's a reason that getup includes a wig and a voice modulator," Errol whispered.

  "Don't worry," Fae said, making a motion as if zipping her coral lips. "I won't tell a soul." She smiled. "I'll even do my best to not laugh."

  "At what?"

  Fae's voice returned to a conspiratorial whisper. "At the girls who hate you but are swooning over him," she said, pointi
ng at a still of the video.

  Ed cast a critical eye over the room before turning his attention to Doctor Lindenbaum. "You guys go out of your way to redefine 'bland' here?" Ed asked.

  "Take a seat," Lindenbaum said.

  "Where? You've got so many."

  "Wherever."

  Ed sat on the arm of one of the couches and the nearby arm of the unoccupied chair. He smiled smugly, but didn't get a reaction from Doctor Lindenbaum.