Paranormals (Book 2): We Are Not Alone

by Andrews, Christopher

  All of this shot through Michael’s mind in a flash, of course. He was opening his mouth to lay out the game plan when a very loud crack! echoed through the thoroughfare, followed almost immediately by a woman’s wailing. Another wave of civilians emerged, rushing for safety, and a short man recognized Shockwave and Powerhouse.

  “Cooper!” the man yelled. “You want Perry Cooper! He’s by the pool!”

  Michael waved his thanks as he asked the police officer, “Where’s the pool?”

  “Straight back.”

  “All right. Shockwave, I want you to fly up and over the top of the complex. Engage our friend ‘Cooper’ if you have a clear shot, but either way, get the guy’s attention. Powerhouse, can you jump up to the roof and join him?” Mark was clearly rankled by the suggestion that he needed backup, but Michael ignored him.

  Powerhouse judged the distance, then shook his head and said, “I can jump that high easy, but ... I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I might just as easily overshoot and land a mile away. I haven’t had enough practice traveling that way.”

  Shockwave smirked at that, and started, “Well, well, well ...” But a dirty look from Michael shut him up before he got any further.

  “Don’t apologize, Powerhouse; I appreciate the honesty. You’re with me. Shockwave, go!”

  Mark saluted and launched into the air, which prompted scattered applause from the onlookers out past the police line. Michael gestured for Powerhouse to take point as they raced toward the thoroughfare. Pendler had more than enough room to run alongside Michael, but instead (and no to surprise) he brought up the rear.

  When Mark cleared the roof, he spotted the pool area immediately, laid out in a standard center courtyard with a cookout area at the far end. The rogue, Cooper, a white guy with more grey in his thinning hair than black, stood hovering in the center of a big fishbowl-looking shield, which was parked on some Hispanic kid’s chest. An older Hispanic woman, probably the kid’s mom judging by her behavior, was pounding on the rogue’s bubble — between her and her kid, Mark couldn’t take a shot at the rogue. Damn.

  All right, backup plan: “Hey! Asshole!”

  The rogue looked up, first toward the railed walkways facing the courtyard, then higher until his eyes widened. As he turned toward Mark, his bubble rotated with him — the kid he was standing on gasped and coughed, his face so red Mark could see it from up here.

  Gotta provoke him. Gotta get him fixated on me and offa the kid. Then I can use my weight, momentum, and a well-timed shockwave to spike that bubble straight down into the concrete. That oughta trap his rogue ass.

  “Hey, asshole!” he repeated, clenching his fists and letting the shockwaves ripple over his knuckles. “You want a fight? I’ll give you one!”

  He swooped down in a low arc, hoping the guy would either retreat or come forward to meet his challenge; either way, it would get him off the kid. As soon as he did that, Mark would pull up, get directly over him ...

  Aghast and abashed, Mark’s flight plunged at too sharp an angle, and he crashed right into the pool.

  Shit, shit, shit! With my luck, this’ll be all over the Internet tonight.

  Determined to rescue some of his dignity before the others arrived, Mark righted himself and shoved off from the bottom of the pool, his arms spread to create a broad shockwave ahead of him even as he directed some focus to his feet once more.

  An impressive wall of water preceded his re-emergence, with roughly half of the pool’s contents emptying as the miniature tidal wave cascaded over Cooper’s bubble, driving the rogue back and away from the kid and his mother even as the water momentarily blinded him.

  To Mark’s tremendous relief, he landed on his feet at the side of the pool just as Powerhouse came into view. His pride accounted for, he hurried to the Hispanic pair.

  “Please!” the mother pleaded. “Help him! Help my Arturo!”

  The kid was barely conscious, and under other circumstances, common sense would dictate that he shouldn’t be moved due to possible internal injuries. But as the water rolled off the rogue’s bubble, they didn’t have a lot of leeway to work with here.

  “You gotta go, lady,” Mark said, pulling the moaning kid to his feet.

  “He’s hurt!”

  “I know, I’m sorry, but you gotta get him out of here now, before Bubble Man over there comes to finish him off!”

  Thankfully, this sank in, and the woman did her best to help her son move toward the pool area’s far gate as Mark turned to face the rogue.

  The timing was too short. The water was clear, Cooper had recovered, and he’d seen his retreating victim. “No, damn it!” he yelled, his voice sounding hollow and muffled from inside his bubble. “No! That punk doesn’t leave! He graffitied my car!”

  Stepping sideways so that he was perfectly between Cooper and his target, Mark said, “You dumbass! That has got to be—”

  Mark didn’t get to finish his taunt, nor was it necessary. Cooper leaned forward, his bubble rolling with him, bearing down on the interloper. Mark fired a one-handed shockwave at him, but while it slowed Cooper down, most of it just slid off to one side of the force field.

  Aw, shit.

  Cooper collided with Mark, still with sufficient force to knock him down ...

  (Not in the pool again, not in the pool, not in the pool!)

  ... to the edge of the pool. Mark fired a two-fisted shockwave from the ground — the bulk of the energy again slid off the bubble, but it kept enough force to shove the rogue back and away from him.

  Swearing and proclaiming Mark to be “just another punk,” Cooper brought his bubble back under his control and wheeled around for another pass while Mark was still down.

  And then Powerhouse leaped between them. The big man drew back and punched Cooper’s force field, and for the first time, the entire bubble rippled in reaction; it also elicited a grunt of surprise and discomfort from Cooper himself. But more than anything, it sent Cooper rolling backward at high speed, straight through the metal fence surrounding the pool and toward the base of one of the complex buildings.

  “Oh, no,” Michael whispered as he reached down to help Mark to his feet.

  “What? Why ‘oh, no’?”

  Mark wasn’t seeing the problem: As strong as Powerhouse was, the rogue might go straight through the building! What would that do to the overall structure? How many people were still inside?

  But at the last second, Cooper shook his head clear and leaned forward. The bubble started spinning forward even as it traveled backward — its momentum dropped rapidly, and when it struck the building wall, it was only hard enough to crack the stucco.

  Takayasu breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived.

  Cooper spun forward faster than ever now, kicking up plaster dust as he powered back toward them, yelling his fool head off. Michael and Mark cleared out of his way (and who knew where Pendler had made himself scarce to), but Powerhouse stood his ground and threw another punch. This time, though, he failed to hit the bubble close enough to center, and his blow glanced off to one side, much like Mark’s shockwaves. The rogue knocked him down and rolled right over him — it didn’t hurt him, of course, but Mark enjoyed seeing him knocked on his ass for a change.

  As Cooper rounded the other end of the pool area to make another pass, two shock-charges from an ECD-V9 struck the bubble from above. All eyes, including Cooper’s, turned upward to see Ensign Pendler firing over the railing from the second floor as more civilians exited their apartments behind him.

  Takayasu glanced down at his own V9, the new sidearm of PCA field agents, which he had drawn as the rogue rolled over Powerhouse, then back at Cooper as a third shock-charge from Pendler glanced harmlessly off the bubble. The Electronic Control Device-V9 had replaced the V7 as their standard stun gun a few months ago — using a new, extremely powerful mini-battery, V9s were similar to “real” guns: No more cables, detachable or otherwise, it fired shock-charge “bullets” that hit the target with the same
voltage. Pendler fired twice more as Cooper, indignant and swearing, looped around again.

  Mark took aim and fired another two-fisted shockwave at the rogue, but Cooper was moving too fast, spinning too smoothly, and the waves glanced off him in front and behind, taking out an apartment door and window beyond him — a man’s frightened yelp echoed from within.

  Mark swore under his breath, then muttered to Michael, “Sorry.”

  As Cooper completed his second loop around the courtyard, he veered back into a straight line and smashed into the building beneath Pendler. The entire structure shook, and Pendler had to grab the railing for support.

  Holstering his V9, Takayasu considered their options.

  Okay, the guy’s breathing, right? So, is the bubble gas-permeable?

  Mark was lining up another one-handed shot and Powerhouse made ready to leap across the pool and help his partner.

  “Guys, hold back a second ...” Michael pulled a couple of sizable, round ampules from a padded inner pocket of his trench coat and drew back his arm. “Cooper!”

  Cooper had been rolling back for another charge into the wall, but he turned at the sound of his name. Michael cut loose, fast-balling the ampules so that they crashed into the bubble right in front of Cooper’s face, breaking open on impact.

  But while a few thin wisps of the white-ish vapor they released made it through, most of the gas wafted around the force field. Cooper coughed, then sneezed hard three times. He appeared dizzy for just a moment, then shook his head clear without any further effect.

  “Damn ...” Michael muttered, already moving on to his next options.

  Cooper raged at them, his words mostly incoherent now. He leaned forward once more, charging around the pool like a pissed-off bull, forgetting Pendler as he bore down upon those he could reach.

  Mark fired a one-handed attack as he stepped in front of his partner, but yet again the shockwave glanced off.

  Powerhouse ran forward to greet the oncoming rogue, spreading his arms wide. Cooper rolled right into him, forcing Lincoln to take a single step back. The big man grabbed at the bubble, hoisting it off the ground and rendering Cooper harmless ...

  ... but it didn’t last. After mere seconds, the bubble slipped loose — Powerhouse’s reach wasn’t quite long enough to hold on to the slick surface — and Cooper rolled away from him. Mark rushed sideways, firing a pair of shockwaves that almost knocked the rogue into the pool, but Cooper spun around the edge like a missed putt and did not drop.

  “Cover your ears, guys,” Takayasu said under his breath as he tossed another spherical object after the rogue — the device hit the concrete and spun after Cooper like a top. Cooper struck the pool fence again, knocking it over but not passing through it this time, just as the device reached him. Takayasu clicked a remote in his hand, then dropped it to cover his own ears.

  A sonic blast fired off, directed upward but still quite loud outside the target zone — a handful of apartment windows shattered around the courtyard. The brunt of the blast hit Cooper; he reacted in evident discomfort, and his force field rippled ... but as with the ampule gas, most of the sonic assault failed to penetrate his bubble.

  As Cooper wobbled around for a moment, Pendler appeared again, this time over the third floor railing of the next building over. He fired two more shots from his V9 with equal failure. Cooper looked up in his general direction, his bubble rolling along the metal fence.

  “Pendler!” Michael yelled at him, his personal frustration leaking through. “Stop wasting ammo, damn it!”

  “I think Poindexter’s got the right idea for a change,” Mark commented as he aimed both fists. “We should just keep hittin’ the guy ‘til he drops.”

  Mark fired, and both shockwaves came near enough to the center of Cooper’s bubble to have a real effect, though not what any of them had hoped: The bubble rippled under Shockwave’s attack for the first time, and in a perfect world, he would’ve gone straight through the metal fence on the opposite side. Unfortunately, the fence bent but did not give way fast enough, and under that instant of pressure, Cooper’s force field popped upward, rocketing into the air at an angle that sent him slamming into the underside of the third floor walkway — Pendler cried out and fell back, out of view. Cooper then ricocheted at a sixty degree angle to their left, shattering the stucco just below the second floor of that building. He came back down into the courtyard at a spin, and thanks to the gyroscopic nature of his force field, managed to recover by the time he’d crossed half the patio area, knocking cheap, white plastic chairs in every direction as he spun to a halt near the thoroughfare from which Michael and the others originally entered the scene.

  “Goddamn it,” Shockwave muttered. “I hate stalemates like this.”

  Powerhouse asked Takayasu, “Do you want me to try and pick him up again?”

  “Do you think you’ll be able to get a better hold than last time?”

  The big man admitted, “Probably not.”

  “Punks!” Cooper roared as he rotated around toward them. As he screamed, spittle foamed up at the corners of his mouth. “Asshole punks, all out to get me, everyone out to take from me, take what’s mine! My car! My truck! My wife! Mine!” He devolved into frantic panting, his reddened cheeks puffing as he glared at them with bloodshot eyes.

  Mark raised his arms for another two-fisted shockwave, but Michael grabbed his wrist before he could take aim.

  “Hold off for now,” Michael told him, “until we figure this out. We don’t need any more property damage here if we can avoid—”

  “Oh!” Cooper suddenly came back alive. “You’re worried about the property damage?! Like those punks damaged my property?! Is that it?! Is that it?!”

  Leaning away from them, Cooper rolled back into the thoroughfare. His eyes bulging and gleaming with madness, he raised his arms and pumped them downward, straining and flexing his trapezius muscles like Lou Ferrigno on the old Hulk TV show. His bubble rippled again, but this time it appeared to be flexing along with him — expanding around him, it pressed into the opposite walls, cracking the stucco, wood, and concrete on either side of him.

  “Um,” Powerhouse said, “could he do that all along?”

  Mark growled, “Don’t matter. He’s figured it out now. Shit.”

  Drawing another gasping breath, Cooper flexed again. His bubble retracted halfway to its original size, then expanded once more — now both walls and the ceiling to the second floor walkway cracked, along with the pavement beneath Cooper’s feet.

  “What do you want me to do, Lieutenant?” Powerhouse asked. He glanced over to Shockwave. “Anything we can do together?”

  In the heat of the moment, Mark forgot his pride and disdain for the younger agent as he admitted, “I got nothing, man. Mike?”

  “I’m thinking.” Michael’s fingers danced over the body of his trench coat as he considered his options. If he didn’t come up with something quickly, he’d have to order Powerhouse to run over there and shove him through to the outside; that would tear the hell out of the building, but it would cause more damage to let this continue.

  “You like that, punks?!” Cooper continued mouthing off, sounding increasingly out of breath. “You like that?! Huh?!” He flexed again, and the largest ripple yet flowed over his force field; the bubble started causing serious structural damage to the building around him.

  “Okay,” Michael admitted, “I’m open to suggestions.”

  “Maybe ... maybe Powerhouse and I can trap him between us if I fly over the top again and come at him from the other side? Pop that bubble between us?”

  “You come anywhere near me,” Cooper yelled, “and I swear I’ll bring down the whole—!” He cut himself off as he flinched in surprise, his gaze shooting up to his right.

  The others followed his look; Shockwave spotted the reason first. He pointed and commented with a grin, “Look who finally decided to show up.”

  Kneeling with his cape flared out around him (something Ta
kayasu had come to recognize as a deliberate pose), Vortex peered down from the roof of the building.

  Michael whispered to Shockwave, “Davison Electronics is further away than HQ. Just be glad he got here as soon as he did.” He and Shockwave exchanged a brief, knowing look, then he called up, “Careful with your vortex wave! Don’t try repelling him — he just bounces around like a billiard ball.”

  Vortex nodded in acknowledgment but said nothing; he just kept staring at Cooper.

  Michael continued, “Think you can try a compression wave from there?”

  Vortex shook his head. “I don’t like how tight he is between those walls.”

  “Shut up!” Cooper demanded. “All of you, just shut up right now! Or I swear, I’ll bring the whole building down! I swear!” He then addressed Vortex directly. “Why do you care?! You’re not with the cops! You’re that vigilante, right?!” Cooper thumped his chest with his thumb. “I’m just standing up for my rights here! They all push me around, take from me, screw me over, and I’m sick of it!”

  “What’ve you tried?” Vortex called down.

  Cooper looked confused and sputtered for a moment, during which Michael answered, “Brute force, picking him up, stun guns, gas, sonic; nothing penetrates—”

  “I told you to shut up!” Cooper flexed again; he was beginning to flounder a bit, and his bubble only expanded a little, but still enough to cause the building to moan in protest.

  Vortex held up a placating hand. “Okay, calm down. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You don’t scare me, punk!” Cooper retorted. “Nothing scares me anymore! Bullets can’t hurt me, those two assholes can’t hurt me! I should’ve done this years ago! Nothing can get through my shield!”

  “Nothing, huh?” Vortex needled him.

  “Nothing!”

  Vortex nodded. “And yet, you can see me, can’t you?”