by LE Barbant
****
Willa climbed the basement stairs and found Elijah and Rhett in heated discussion. Part of her was worried that they were fighting again.
Part of her wanted to jump in on the action.
Powers or no, she couldn’t believe Rhett had influenced her so easily. His manipulation began to fray when Elijah confronted her for bringing him here, and it snapped completely when he explained how he had used his persuasive power to bend her to his will.
Staring at him, she couldn’t help but think of Rizzo’s face as she tortured him. The same spell played on her lips, ready to be used if she had the chance.
Her desire to hit him scared her, but only a little.
“Willa, Chem, you guys need to see this. Show them the video.”
Rhett handed the phone to Willa, but she ignored it, walking past him to a love seat. Chem grabbed it instead and sat next to her. The phone was open to a website labeled www.MonsterTruth.Com. Chem pressed play, and the screen came to life. It was a video, similar to the one taken on Mount Washington last winter. A large creature that looked like Elijah stomped around, leaving extra potholes in a Pittsburgh street. Willa looked closer and saw that his movements were different, stiffer. As the video progressed, she realized that this thing was fighting the real Elijah. He was hard to make out in the dim lighting, but she recognized the disfigured arms, and Elijah was wearing the same blue shirt he had on now.
“This was taken today,” she said.
“That’s what Tim and I were doing when you two were making yourselves at home here. That’s what we’re up against. But it gets worse.”
Elijah grabbed the phone and loaded another video. This time it was Mayor Dobbs, and he stood behind a podium on the steps of city hall.
“The evidence is clear. Something is terrorizing our city, and I won’t stand for it any longer. I’m instituting Emergency Order Number 42. We are encouraging anyone with knowledge of these creatures to come forward. Anyone caught helping them will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. I’m authorizing our officers to take lethal action against them…”
“This is some real Adolf shit, right here,” Chem said, looking up from the screen. “The man just declared war on monsters—which, if I’m not mistaken, is you guys.”
“Maybe you too,” Willa added. “Guilt by association’s a bitch.”
Rhett cleared his throat. “No one’s going to like hearing this, but it’s my fault. Well, at least partially.”
“You better start talking, pretty boy,” Chem said.
Rhett cut a glance at Elijah as if trying to take his temperature. No matter how much trouble he might be in with the others, Elijah could talk them down.
“My brother and I were drawn here—like I said, he has that power. With all of the news about the monsters, we thought that we were brought here because of them. Every time we’re drawn someplace, it’s for a reason. Monsters just made sense. Once I was brought onto Dobbs’ staff, it only made sense to kill two birds with one stone. Get rid of the monsters and get the Mayor reelected.” Rhett paused and watched the group. “I didn’t know that some of the monsters were heroes.”
“Wait,” Willa said. “You what?”
Rhett grinned. “After Vinton was murdered, they Mayor and I planned our approach around these attacks. We knew it was only a matter of time before another incident occurred. And, unfortunately, it looks like the plan’s working perfectly.” The man paused. Willa wasn’t certain if he was ashamed or proud. “Dobbs is using fear for political leverage. Voters are going to eat this shit up. We had this speech already planned weeks ago.”
Willa’s eyes narrowed on the speechwriter. “If it wasn’t for your damned meddling, I could have stopped all of this already.”
Rhett gave a subtle shrug.
Elijah placed his hand on Willa’s shoulder, which offered a modicum of comfort. “We need to figure out what to do now. We can’t just walk in there and take him down. I’ll get shot on sight. And Rita’s still out there somewhere.”
Chem nodded. “Not to mention those two metal suits could show up again. How did they know where we were?”
Willa sat fuming. Chem leaned near Tim, checking his pulse and recording it in his notebook. It seemed like he was going to go ahead with his formula, regardless of the consequences. Rhett sat, unconcerned as ever, with her cat at home on his lap.
Elijah stood behind her. His sympathy was appreciated but he couldn’t understand what she was feeling. Rizzo and Dobbs and even Rhett had all taken advantage of her, had used her and her family for their own gain. No amount of training could give her back what they took, control over her life.
She only knew one thing that might. And with or without their help she was going to do it.
“Guys, I have an idea,” Elijah said. He took his hand off her shoulder and stepped toward the center of the room. Lowering his voice, he whispered, “But we shouldn’t talk about it here. Let’s go get a drink and I’ll explain everything.”
PART THREE
I will read ashes for you, if you ask me.
I will look in the fire and tell you from the gray lashes
And out of the red and black tongues and stripes,
I will tell how fire comes
And how fire runs far as the sea.
“Fire Pages,” Carl Sandburg
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The smoke eater and air conditioner in Gene’s Place buzzed in harmony. King had ducked into the dive to catch a break from the late-summer humidity. The joint was predictably quiet for a Tuesday afternoon during the first few weeks of the semester. Diligence still reigned in the students’ minds, and they’d lay off day drinking for a few more weeks.
King’s Nikes made the sound of someone ripping packing tape off dirty tile as his feet stuck to the floor. It hadn’t been thoroughly washed since Jesus himself walked the earth. Third stool from the end of the bar—his normal residency—was empty and waiting.
“Hey, King.” The bartender nodded.
“What’s up, Pete?” Dark rings of sweat haloed King’s t-shirt around the neck and extended out from his armpits. He’d lived in Pittsburgh his whole life, but never could get used to the humidity. “Can’t wait till the weather breaks.”
Pete slid a cheap draft and a dark shot in front of him. “A few months and everyone’ll be bitching about the snow and cold. Like clockwork.”
“At least some things are reliable,” King quipped.
He grabbed the shot while his friend poured his own. “To the four seasons,” the barkeep said, raising his shot glass.
“Hear, hear,” King replied, slamming the medicine back with a grin. “And now for the cool-down.” The icy mug almost hissed as King pressed it against his forehead.
Pete lit a cigarette, taking a long drag, and nodded toward the television. Mayor Dobbs, backdropped by the steps of City Hall, filled the screen. “I’m ready for this circus to end.” Pointing the sticky remote at the screen, he turned up the volume.
“…that’s why my number one priority is to end this monster epidemic. In fact, my team and I have made a decision to press pause on the campaign to enable us to focus 100% on the safety of the city, the welfare of the citizens. Thank you.”
Hands shot in the air as the members of the press fought for first right to query the Mayor.
“Yes, Angela?”
“Mr. Mayor, do we have any more information regarding the identity or even the…um…makeup of these creatures?”
“As I said already, Angela, there are very few details we actually have of these monsters. We know they’re real, and we know they are dangerous. Other than a few grainy security videos and some eyewitness testimony, there is little we do know. But I’ve signed off on a full-scale investigation and I’m confident we’ll have a better idea of what we’re dealing with very soon.”
Again, hands were launched and voices shouted.
“Yes, Rob.”
An oversized man in an unders
ized polo glanced at his spiral-bound notepad. “Mr. Mayor, I have a source that tells me there were forensics found on-site after the PPG battle. Do you care to fill us in on the nature of the evidence?”
The Mayor laughed. “Naturally, our law enforcement found some things on-site. That’s what they do. However, as you can imagine, we aren’t releasing any information until we can do so with confidence. Yes, um, Jill.”
“It’s Jillian, sir, with the Keystone Voice.”
The Mayor only nodded.
“Isn’t it a little disingenuous to claim that you are putting your campaign on hold to deal with the monsters? In fact, isn’t this the best campaign move you could make? That is, some are saying you’re exacerbating the problem to boost your falling numbers.”
Silence blanketed the crowd.
Eyes widened among her more established colleagues. King could nearly hear Dobbs grind his teeth through the television.
“Well, folks, now you know why we never call on the bloggers at press conferences.” The mayor grinned as the crowd laughed uncomfortably. “Apparently, you’ve been talking to my opponent. It’s a nice move. I’d do the same if I were Kinnard. The finish line is in sight and he’s a rookie. I’ve been in this game long enough to know that the most important thing is to serve the people, serve the city. If people vote for me because they see that my priority is Pittsburgh over keeping my toothbrush in the Mayor’s mansion, so be it. If I lose, and go out caring for this place, these people,” he spread his hands over the crowd, “then I’ll leave office a happy man.”
The camera pulled in close on the face of the reporter, her nose scrunched. She looked ready to rush the stage.
“She’s cute,” Pete said.
“Mmmmm, hmmmm,” King said, absentmindedly. But his thoughts weren’t focused on the reporter.
The news cut to a commercial. Pete muted the volume and flipped to a third-rate reality television show on a fourth-rate cable station.
“Total bullshit.”
“Nope,” King replied.
The bartender poured two more shots. “Come on. You’re buying this monster crap?”
“I don’t have to buy it. ’Cause I’ve seen it.”
Pete’s eyes widened. “Fuck you.”
King couldn’t hold in his laugh. “I know, crazy King, right? It’s the God’s honest truth. On my mother’s grave.”
“King, your mom lives in the bedroom next to yours.”
“I was talking in the future tense.” King threw back the shot and chased it with a long pull on his beer. “First time was right out there. Before anybody had ever reported a thing, before PPG. I saw the metal monster.”
“Come on.”
“Yep. There, and then that night downtown, I was there too. Freaked me the hell out, man. I thought for a bit that I had something to do with it. I can’t say I wasn’t just a little relieved when that Vinton guy got it and I was miles away.”
King’s friend remained silent, likely trying to determine if the regular was messing with him.
“But there’s something they’re not talking about.”
“Oh, yeah, what’s that?”
“There’s teams,” King said with a gleam in his eye. “Those monsters I saw weren’t just running around destroying the city, they were fighting each other. And there were humans involved as well. We’re in the middle of some Marvel shit right here.”
“And they don’t even know it,” the bartender said, drinking his own shot.
“Oh, they know it. They’re just not talking about it. Politics ain’t that different from working the streets. This is Dobbs’ game and he knows how to play it. Down in the polls now, but watch, by November he’ll be wiping the streets with that Kinnard kid. But for this to work, it has to be us versus them. Not good versus bad.”
“How do you know they’re good and bad?”
“Hot, cold. Yin, yang. Good, bad. That’s the way of the universe, my man. That’s the way it rolls. The good ones, they have some bad in them, but they can overcome it.”
“And the bad?”
“We’ll see.”
King threw a ten on the bar, even though he knew Pete would let him slide for free. “Take it easy, man. And keep your head down out there.”
King pushed open the door and lit a crumpled Lucky as he squinted in the afternoon sun.
CHAPTER THIRTY
What the hell has Paul gotten me into?
Although the basement was far cooler than anywhere else in the house, perspiration still lined his forehead. The speechwriter hated sweat. Years of practice gave him near perfect control over his body—he knew how to hide or fabricate any emotion, and do it with conviction. But his glands betrayed his composure.
And there was good reason to worry.
He scanned the room, observing his new companions: half-rate academics who happened to hold the fate of the city in their hands. Despite their undeniable abilities, they were still too green, untested, and uneasy with one another to accomplish what they had set out to do. Rhett had a sinking feeling no one knew their role in the story that was unfolding.
They can’t pull this off.
The chemist was strong and had an easy wit. They all adored him, but Rhett got the sense that they didn’t quite trust him. The tall man leaned against his lab desk. His long fingers ran across the top of the metal drone sitting in the middle of things.
Willa had potential, but she was angry and unpredictable. It had been child’s play for Rhett to manipulate her, and he was far from the most threatening person she would encounter. This world would tear her apart, and Rhett wondered who she’d bring down with her.
His eyes landed on the historian. If there was one person that might be the leader, it was Elijah. He had a sharp mind and a conviction that reminded him of Paul. But, sitting in the dank basement, Rhett wondered if that would be enough. Sometimes, conscience could lead to ruin.
“We need the perfect plan. There can’t be any mistakes,” Elijah said.
Rhett checked his phone. No messages from his brother. Not that he was expecting any. His twin was woefully bad at communicating. Calling him aloof would be like calling hell warm. Rhett always wished his brother was by his side; he provided comfort, even if they were often at each other’s throats. Plus, Paul was a brilliant strategist. They could use him now. And maybe, if he were there, he might grant some insight about the future. But, as usual, Rhett was going to have to journey through this without his brother.
“I don’t really care what your plan is,” Willa said, “I’m going to take out Dobbs. I need to finish what I started…what he started. The man killed my mother, and now he’s pitted the entire city against us.”
Elijah nodded, with just a hint of hesitation. “I hate to say it, but I agree. Dobbs is the problem. We all know it, right?” Elijah didn’t wait for an answer. “We can deal with the mech suit soldiers later, but what about Rita? We can’t just leave her out there. We don’t know where she is or what they’re doing to her. Shouldn’t her safety be a priority?”
Chem pulled his hand from the drone and scratched his cheek. He inhaled deeply. “Screw Rita. She’s not one of us. It sounds terrible, but the freak made her bed.”
Rhett had already known what the chemist would say, but he was surprised by the heat in the man’s voice. Chem was hiding something from the rest of the group. His tone held a hint of authenticity to it that disturbed even the politician.
“Plus, you guys keep forgetting, one of us is still just human,” Chem said. “I can’t go gallivanting around the city fighting mayors and the Pittsburgh police, saving damsels, and dodging the damn National Guard. My serum didn’t help, and if anything, Tim’s getting worse.” The chemist’s chin dropped to his chest. “I need to stay here and look after him.”
Elijah stepped toward his friend and placed an awkward hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. Rita’s tough. She’ll find a way out. But, Willa,” Elijah said, turning his attention to poet, “I’m telling yo
u, you can’t face Dobbs alone. Even though I can’t change fully, I can still help. I’m coming with you.”
Willa pursed her lips. “Chem, stay here to keep an eye on Tim. But if he gets much worse, you need to get him to a real hospital. Elijah and I are going after the Mayor.”
Rhett looked up. “What should I do?” He held his breath.
“Quite frankly,” Chem said, “I trust you just as much as any politician I’ve ever met. You’re on the bench.” Chem gave him a quick wink.
Elijah looked around the room, silently confirming the plan with everyone. “Let’s do this,” he said.
He and Willa walked up the steps, heading for trouble.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Every square inch of skin burned as Rita came to. She had been dry for a long time—how long she couldn’t quite tell. Her head swam; her vision was blurry.
Lying prone on cool concrete, her underside wasn’t quite on fire, but everywhere hurt. As she rolled to stand, her knee bumped plastic and sloshing filled the hazy space.
“Water.” Her gurgle was dry. Yanking the plastic cap, she tilted the gallon over her head and let her white scaly skin soak up the nourishment. The effect was instantaneous; she felt better, though far from normal—if normal could be a thing.
After letting the water flow into her eyes and down her chest, her vision started to return. Though it was dim, she could now make out the steel-walled room comprising her prison. The ceiling was high and bars ran all the way up. She was in an eight-by-four cage made for the kind of creature she looked like, not the human who she was on the inside.
“Hello,” a tiny voice squeaked behind her.
Rita spun, ready to attack, though nothing in the trembling voice required such a response. But Rita had seen too much. The past few years had taught her to never trust, never let her guard down.
Adjacent to her cage sat another identical cell. A young girl lay propped up on a pile of pillows—motionless, staring straight at Rita.
