by Nat Kozinn
“That was fun, huh?” I say.
“Oh, yeah. I’m going to start getting shot at every Friday night.”
We hurry over to the wall of the courtyard. I wrap one of my arms around Linda’s waist and hurdle the ten-foot tall wall like an Olympian. I land, let go of Linda, and we break into a light jog.
“Can you link me up with Ben?” I ask Linda.
I feel my mind connect with another, like my own direct think.Net.
<<
>>>You might want to do that on the double.
<<
>>>No, that went fine. What we didn’t count on was that the guards have radio transmitters they use in case think.Net goes down. The police have them too, so they can all talk. I’ve got a scanner that lets me listen to their chatter, and let’s say you’re going to want to get a move on.
I end the call and look up the street. Sure enough, there’s a wave of men in blue uniforms headed right for us. They’re going to be able to see us soon with their normal human eyes.
“Linda, we’ve got to run.”
She nods, and I pick her up with my left arm and break into a sprint. I haven’t really run with my new body. I keep pumping my legs and moving faster and faster. Soon I become a blur, covering ten blocks in twenty seconds, and I still don’t think I’m running as quickly as my body is capable of moving. Unfortunately, this is another task I have no practice with. I try to round a corner and end up skidding out and slamming into a building. I try to position my body so I take the brunt of the blast, but Linda still screams out in pain.
“I heard something over there!” a voice yells in the distance. It’s followed by a host of footsteps heading in our direction.
“We’ve got to keep moving,” I say and extend my hand to help Linda up.
She takes my hand and tries to stand, but collapses back to the ground with a whimper.
“I can’t. My neck, it hurts too much. Leave me here. Go stop William,” Linda pleads.
“Not going to happen. I can’t let you get arrested for my stupid plan,” I argue. “I won’t be able to handle the guilt.”
“I don’t have to be a Telepath to know what you’re thinking. Don’t do it, Gavin. The police are just doing their jobs.”
She’s right. I don’t have enough control of my strength to be sure I won’t accidentally crush a cop’s skull if I try to fight them. I need another exit strategy. I look all around me before I finally look up. The building I slammed into is about four stories tall. I bend down and lift Linda up, carefully cradling her neck to keep it stable. Then I leap into the air, and land on the roof like a cat. Four stories straight up is not a bad standing broad jump.
We sit silently on the roof waiting to see how well the police officers tracked us. The footsteps arrive at the base of our building.
“Look at the B-Crete here. It’s all cracked, looks like something slammed into it. The Strong-Man might still be around here. We should search this building,” one of the police officers says.
That isn’t good. At least they don’t know they’re hunting Gavin Stillman yet. Plenty of them are still chomping at the bit to get some revenge on the Vigilante who assaulted officers and got away with it. I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this, and I might kill Linda if I keep running with her.
“I saw him go this way! Come on!” a female voice yells. It’s a voice I know, Maria.
I hear the group of cops run off. She came through for us.
#
>>>There’s still some confusion about whether we’re hunting down a Strong-Man or Gavin “The Beast Slayer” Stillman. You’ve got a little while till we sort it all out.
<<
>>>I didn’t think Linda deserved to rot in a cell. She was nice enough to check in on me while you were getting your procedure or whatever done. How is she?
<<
>>>She’s safe. The only description they’ve got is that she was a middle-aged woman. Everyone at the Governor’s mansion was a little more focused on the hairless giant.
<<
>>>Nope, just your own. You aren’t going to tell me what you found out about William, are you?
<<
>>>Good luck then. Do me a favor and ask Linda to scrub this call from my record. Talking to a wanted criminal isn’t going to be great for my career. Take care of yourself, Beast Slayer.
<<
We end the call. She’s not happy about how things went, but considering she risked her career to protect me I think I’ll be able to repair the relationship, eventually. I turn to Linda and Ben.
“Do they have any leads on us?” Linda asks.
“No, and the good news is they’re on the hunt for me. You’re safe to go home. She did want you to scrub our call from the think.Net records.”
“I’ll do that,” Linda pauses. “I don’t think you should go, Gavin. We should try to find a way to get the police involved.”
“You too? Isn’t it a little late for protests? You two wait at Linda’s apartment. I can handle him by myself,” I say to Linda and Ben.
“It isn’t worth the risk to go after Billy the Kid. It’s the Governor who’s to blame for all this anyway. We should be focusing on exposing his link to Ultracorps and Nita,” Ben says.
“I don’t care if William’s a pawn. He killed my partner Victor, my friend Gary, and Linda’s son. He has to be stopped. We can figure out how to take down the Governor later. If I don’t stop William now, more Differents are going to die,” I reply.
“I’m telling you Gavin, it’s a mistake. I was making sure the Governor told the truth, but it wasn’t necessary. He was giddy to tell you everything, especially about where William is,” Linda says.
“But he wasn’t lying, right? So William is in that building he told us about. The Governor was probably excited because William has a trap waiting for me. I’m sure his plan is well-designed and would have no problem taking out the old Gavin. The new Gavin? There’s no way he’s ready for me. Did you see my back? The gunshot wounds from the Governor’s guards have all but healed already. Let William scheme all he wants. I’m unstoppable.”
“He managed to kill Victor, so don’t be so sure of yourself. Anyway, I don’t think it is a trap. Khan wants you to go after William because he wants William dead and Khan figured you’re unstoppable now,” Linda says. “You make a good weapon.”
“Why would Khan want William dead? They’re working together,” I reply.
“I don’t know. We had to get out of there before you could ask him about it. I don’t get to look through all of the contents of his mind, Gavin. I only get to see things people are thinking about. I know he wasn’t afraid that we were there—he was happy, and pretty satisfied with himself,” Linda says.
“He’s a religious lunatic. There’s no point in trying to figure out what a maniac’s motivations are. He isn’t logical. Maybe he thinks William will be a martyr for Sapienism or something like that. Let William enter the Sainthood for that wacko religion, what do we care?”
“I don’t know Gavin, but I do know that killing him is playing right into Khan’s hands. If you’re so unstoppable, you should be able to beat Billy the Kid without killing him. If I can suppress my desire for revenge on my son’s murderer, you and your controllable emotions should be able to do the same,” Linda scolds. She’s using my pity for the loss of her son as a weapon against me.
“I’ll try,” I say and I make myself mean it.
“I’m coming with you,” Ben add
s. “I’ll gum up think.Net so no concerned citizens can get the police involved. No need to thank me. It’s only the second time I’ll have done it in the last few hours.”
“Okay, Ben. And thank you.”
31
William Jefferson receded from the national spotlight four months ago when he announced his retirement from the NBA. Though rarely seen in the following months, Jefferson kept in contact with a few close friends. Those friends recently reported concerns about Jefferson’s well being to the police, who in turn went to the former sport star’s apartment and found a letter. Though police representatives would not go into the specifics of the letter, sources did confirm the letter indicated that William Jefferson has taken his own life. Those same sources reported that Jefferson left his estate to several worthy causes. A spokesperson for the Minnesota Timberwolves reported that team officials were “devastated…. William Jefferson was able to overcome every challenge that presented itself on the basketball court. Unfortunately, overcoming the death of his wife and child was one battle he could not win. It is a sobering reminder of the humanity of every player in our league.” Jefferson is credited with restoring the nation’s faith in the legitimacy of professional sports in the years following the Victor Campos scandal.
“William Jefferson Missing, Suicide Likely” by Roger Burns, Minneapolis StarTribune
November 5th
Sit-ups: 125
Pushups: 300
Pull-ups: 50
Running: 6 miles, 36:00 Minutes total, 6 minute mile average. Ouch.
Diet: 2,020 Calories, 152 grams protein, 227 gram carbohydrates, 56 grams fat.
Sleep: 8:18
Funds: $26,727.50
Ammo Count: 150 rounds 7N1, 240 rounds 9mm, 11 Stun Grenades, 11 Smoke Grenades, 12 Standard Grenades.
Activities: Eliminated Target 27: Male Gamma Energy Producer, Target 28: Female Gamma Enhanced Senses, and Target 29: Female Beta Physically Enhanced.
Target Notes: Targets came upon me while setting the final explosive at Ultracorps Employee housing complex. Target 28 heard me. Could not chance them reporting my activities. Drew the trio out into the main courtyard. Eliminated Targets 27 and 28 with my 9mm handgun. Target 29, Strong-Woman, proved resistant to small arms fire. Dragunov effective. Eliminated Target 29 with single head shot.
Personal Notes: The Money Man not at designated meeting. Note explaining he could not attend. Said to contact him if any major disruptions to plan. Left an additional $10,000 to throw me off. He’s making move sooner than expected. Wonder who he will send. More bought cops? Time to make preparations to evacuate Metro Area after execution of plan.
Mental State: Concerned about lack of response to my only “friend” betraying me. This was always the likely outcome. Thought he’d be smarter about it. Still, Money Man represented only regular human contact. Worried social isolation will lead to mental instability. Must address in the Seattle Metro Area.
32
This just in, Governor Lewis Khan has been attacked in the Governor’s mansion. The Governor is unharmed, but the suspect is still at large. He is described as seven feet tall, 800 pounds, and hairless. Suspect is likely a Strong-Man Different and may be dangerous. He does not have a Mark of Differentiation. Individuals who spot the suspect are urged to keep their distance and contact authorities.
Think.Net Breaking News Alert
William’s “compound” is an abandoned warehouse. The windows are missing and the roof is partially collapsed, but for a Pre-Plague building it’s in pretty good shape. If it was closer to the Metro Center someone would have patched it up with B-Crete and made it into condos. Instead it’s left to rot, or in this case, become the secret lair of a serial killer.
It’s a good time to pick a fight, 6:45AM. The sky is just starting to lighten. Twilight is the most difficult time for the human eye to see clearly. The combination of shadows and well-lit areas make it so the eyes can’t choose whether they should adapt for day or night. I have the same problem, but my ability to rapidly change the number of rods and cones in my eyes and direct my pupil dilation, lets me adapt more quickly. It also helps that I’m going to use my bare hands while William will rely on his guns. Fists are easier to aim.
My best chance at taking William alive, like I promised Linda, is going to be getting the drop on him. Once he starts shooting, things are going to get dicey. I’m not bulletproof, more bullet resistant. I’m not willing to die to keep my word. If it comes to it, I won’t hesitate to kill him. I’ll pretend I don’t like the sound of that.
I make my way around the old warehouse and approach a door in the back. I have a sudden bit of déjà-vu. This is an eerily similar situation to the foundry where Victor was shot. I take a quick scan of the buildings facing the door. There isn’t a good vantage for a sniper. I put my hand on the door and try to open it slowly in case it’s wired. My concerns are correct, but my new muscles betray me. I end up pushing too hard and throwing the door wide open, right through the click of the booby trap.
The explosion comes from somewhere behind me and propels me forward into the large, mostly empty warehouse. Shrapnel riddles my body. The old me’s flesh would have been torn open. The new me is just covered in small cuts. The flash from the explosion distorts my vision, and one of my eardrums bursts. I try to stand up, but my damaged ear affects my balance. I rush blood to the area and signal the cells to begin replicating.
“Who are you?” I hear William yell from up above.
He’s standing in an old office above the warehouse floor. He’s looking down on me through an empty window frame. He has a look of recognition mixed with bewilderment when he sees my face, but his confusion doesn’t stop him for long. He lifts up an assault rifle and pulls the trigger, the gun spits out a stream of bullets.
I scramble to my feet, falling over as a bullet hits me in the back. I use my arms to throw myself behind a pile of debris. I take bullets to the thigh and shoulder in the process. These assault rifle rounds penetrate deeper into my muscle than the handgun slugs, but they still don’t do all that much damage. My priority is getting my ear fixed so I can stand. I’m already having enough problems keeping balance in my new body. I need to buy some time.
“Who was the most difficult defender you ever faced!?” I call up to him.
“Now I know you’re not a real basketball fan. It was Leroy Hubbard. Everyone knows that!” he yells back. Then he throws something down which lands behind me. Grenade! I scramble towards it, taking another bullet in the back in the process. I grab the grenade and toss it up towards the office. It explodes in mid-air but forces William to hit the deck. I need twenty to thirty more seconds to heal my ear. I hide behind a concrete column.
“You’re new and improved, aren’t you?” William yells as he picks himself back up and takes aim with his rifle.
“My general manager made some upgrades to the roster since I lost to you in the playoffs,” I yell back.
When he opens fire on the column, I realize how stupid I was with that cheesy line. He wanted me to talk so he could figure out where I was. The concrete column absorbs the bullets, but now I’m pinned down. There’s no other cover around me. I need to distract him.
“You must have figured out how I found you. Governor Khan sold you out without a moment’s hesitation. He wants me to kill you,” I yell to him.
It takes him a few seconds to respond, which is perfect because I need seconds. “Maybe he’s confident that I’m going to kill you. I did take out your partner, remember?”
My eardrum has mostly recovered, but I need a way out from behind this column without taking ten more bullets. I start looking around for something I can throw at him and realize I’m still thinking like the old me. I grab the column I’m hiding behind. My fingers sink into the concrete like it’s a loaf of bread. Then I pull, yanking off a hundred-pound chunk, which I promptly hurl up at the office. The chunk smashes through the office walls like a wrecking ball.
I take a running s
tart and leap to follow the path of the concrete I hurled, but I misjudge my jump and end up smashing through the old drywall below the window frames. I have to catch myself on the floor to keep from falling back down to the ground level. I do a pull-up to throw myself the rest of the way into the office and cover my head as soon as I get to my feet, preparing for an onslaught of bullets that doesn’t come.
I scan the office looking for William. There’s a map of the Metro Area up on the wall with “X”s all over it. I recognize two of the locations: the Ultracorps main office and the employee housing complex. There are over a dozen more “X” markings. Are those the locations of his next targets? I have to find him to make him explain.
I spot a back staircase he must have escaped down, run over, and lean down to look. I don’t want to walk into a hail of bullets. He’s below, fiddling with a small object in his hand. He pushes a button on the device. I’m about to be hit by another explosion. I rush fluid to my tympanic cavity to protect my eardrums.
A series of explosions go off. I cover my face to protect myself, but the blasts come from underneath the office. I turn and dive towards the window, but before I can make it, the supports holding up the room give out. The office collapses down to the warehouse floor. Chunks of ceiling and wall crash on top of me, but they only cause a few more bumps and scratches.
I dig myself out of the pile of debris, look around to locate William, and hear the all too familiar boom of a sniper rifle. The bullet tears into my chest, ripping through the fibers of my new, tougher muscles, coming to rest in the middle of one of my ribs. It would have gone straight through the old me, puncturing my lung and severing my spine. William prepares to fire another shot.
I do my best impression of Victor’s acrobatic dodging moves from when we fought the Regenerator. I’m much faster and more agile than I was when I tried this the first time and quickly become a blur of somersaults, back flips, and jumps. I start moving my dance routine towards William, who fires five shots that whiz by me. Then he holds his fire, keeping his gun trained on me. I crouch and prepare to cover the rest of the ground between us in a single leap.
