In the near distance, the dark spire of Cronus Tower dominated the skyline. The tallest in the city, it stood as a reminder of all that had been accomplished after Dr. Malorius’ disappearance. Stephen remembered his night on the bridge, watching as the flames rose from the city’s downtown. He had waited for rescue, but none came as the paramedics and firefighters struggled to coordinate against the blaze. It was much later when they found him.
Captain Valour had left him there to die.
Stephen winced. It churned his stomach to think that Valour Park commemorated the so-called hero. After the fire, the city had decided to keep those emptied blocks open and unfilled. They had instead created a long park at the heart of the city, a central expanse of nature amongst the towering skyscrapers.
It was Malorius who had cleared the way for that space, and yet, they named it after his arch foe. Life wasn’t fair.
“Are your people prepared?” A voice called out from the silence.
Stephen turned, shaken from his momentary ruminations. The costume hung with a phantom fullness, red eyes blazing. He recovered from the initial surprise, relaxing.
“They are in place. All is ready,” he said, wheeling back to this computer. Small dots on the screen were arrayed across a map, representing the group’s location. “I’ve shared with them the necessary information. The plan is proceeding as expected.”
“Good,” the apparition replied. “This step is crucial. Any errors now could jeopardize our victory.”
Stephen smiled, waving a hand through the air. “Worry not, Father. They will carry out their instructions. Your plan has proven flawless.”
The eyes glowed hotter. “Your overconfidence is your weakness, my son. See that it does not cloud your judgment.” The voice echoed and faded, and the costume flattened. Its fabric stilled. Stephen Detch was alone again.
“I don’t intend to,” he said, returning his attentions to this computer. Lines of code filled one screen, while the other still registered his team’s placements. He watched them for a moment, then began adding to the computer’s program.
All of the pieces were indeed moving into position.
Chapter Twenty-three
The ride back to base was not a long one. Everyone was quiet, letting the drone of the jet-copter’s blades dominate their ears. David looked at his squad. Their first outing had been a success. They suffered no casualties, and had protected the public from significant harm. Best of all, two dangerous preternaturals were now in custody.
“Three minutes to the Hall,” the pilot said over the noise. David sat back, thinking about the reference. The recruits had taken to calling their training center “the Hall.” It was a lighthearted nickname, one that had spread like wildfire through the staff. Like many universities and military schools, the building had been given a name of inflated significance. Even if it was informal, and more than a little sarcastic, it made sense.
As the squad neared their destination, they could see their teammates gathered on the landing pad. The crowd writhed with excitement. Despite the mission’s flaws, David couldn’t help but to smile.
The jet-copter touched down, and a cheer rose from everyone present. David scanned the crowd, somehow wishing that Sybil’s pale face lingered among them. Instead, his eyes locked on the smiling senator, and the man gave him a quiet nod. David looked away.
He had told the senator that the recruits were not ready, and the politician had sent them out anyway. No matter the results that everyone now celebrated, David knew that they had been lucky. The team had done reasonably well for their first outing, but their victory rested more on chance than any training. Too many issues yet remained – from Beatdown’s minimal contributions to his own extended fight with the rogue zombie.
The truth of the matter was that Jack had sent them in too soon. His orders had come without any compassion or worry for the recruits’ safety. Had their opponents been more numerous or worked together, the outcome of the battle could have been quite different. The senator’s only care was his public image, and the progression of his precious project.
These concerns weighed upon David, threatening to drown any celebratory spirit that he may have had. He stepped out of the chopper and waved, causing the gathering to again roar. It was good to see the others enjoying themselves, but there was more at stake than this one, fortunate win. The team, these people, needed more than happenstance to protect them. They needed honest leadership.
The others exited, and the entire group made their way to a large assembly area for the post-mission celebration, the senator leading the charge. Congratulations and cheers echoed within the Hall’s corridors, the squad receiving many shaken hands and slapped backs as they went. Everyone swarmed into the room, hoping to hear the words of victory that Williams was about to speak.
The senator took his place in front of them. “Congratulations, my friends,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Lieutenant Mead has kept me apprised of your progress, and I must say I’m very proud. You have truly exemplified the heroic spirit that marks greatness. I am honored to be among you to celebrate this day of triumph.”
David grimaced. Triumph? Not quite.
Jack continued. “You’ve come a long way since I last stood before you. You’ve gained skill and honed your abilities, but it’s the courage you’ve shown that sets you apart from others. There are many preternaturals like you who chose not join us. That was their decision, and I respect them for it, but I know that your actions today have made them reconsider. You’ve proven that there are good people in the world, people willing to defend what is right.”
Another noise rose among the ranks, cutting short Jack’s speech. David dismissed it at first, thinking it another cheer, but soon realized its difference. He spun to see Medium begin to shake under her blue-flowered sun dress. Her body heaved with the influences of some sort of extrasensory vision.
The senator pretended not to notice, carrying on with his words. “This group serves as a shining example to others, and the public now knows about you. I’ve scheduled a press conference for today’s squad, officially unveiling this project, and as the word spreads, others will be drawn to our cause.”
Medium continued to tremble throughout the monologue. Unable to contain herself any longer, she shouted, commanding the attentions of all. Even the senator held his tongue and listened as she uttered words in short, staccato bursts. “Attack! Fire!”
The room filled with faces of confusion and disbelief as they listened to the warnings. None knew what to make of her. The mission was over, and those responsible locked away. Her messages made little sense.
“Get away from the door,” she screamed.
For a moment, David began to get angry. He didn’t understand her wails of disaster, and as she kept piling onto the garbled message, his anger built. She turned to him, looking into his eyes and shouting. “Sibyl says run!” The name sent him down another trail of confusion.
It was the last words he would ever hear her speak.
Standing beside the senator, David had a clear view of the main door as it turned into a rectangle of flame. His ears were overwhelmed with the sound of the explosion, and wooden shards bounced off of his flight suit, a few drawing blood as they found unprotected skin.
With a dim awareness of what was unfolding, the all-too-familiar noise of battle fought the ringing in his ears. Crashes, screams, and shouts filled the hazy air. He searched the smoke, seeing the burning corpses of a few former recruits. Somewhere within it all, he thought he could make out the senator’s voice. It yelled something, but there was no response before another sharp boom engulfed them all.
When the second shockwave struck, David was running into the center of the storm, hoping to help. The force propelled a dust cloud around him, particles scraping against his skin. His eyes narrowed, fighting for vision.
A glowing eye waited within.
Seeing it, David twisted, using the added momentum to attempt a tackle of
which any linebacker would be proud. It had no effect. He struck a wall of slippery force, bloodied his lip, and slid down, unable to find any handhold.
Bronze features broke through the smoky darkness, and too late did David realize it was a closed fist. A quick, hard punch reversed his momentum, sending him dazed to the floor. Laid horizontal, he flipped the jetpack’s controls and propelled himself out of the Aegis’ range. The distance between them grew, and he used it to return upright and regain his footing. He knew he couldn’t attack the mercenary head on, so the best course of action was to find the others. Perhaps they had the power to neutralize this enemy.
He looked across the surrounding chaos, and through the haze, he saw few left conscious, if even alive. Movement caught his eye, and he focused upon the figure of Femme Fatale, defending Senator Williams from attack. David jetted to her side, hoping to recover some advantage in the heat of battle.
As he touched down, a searing pain tore through his back in five excruciating streaks. The escaped convict, Rangda, emerged behind him. Her long fingernails glowed like rubies with an inner fire, his blood sizzling at their tips. The jetpack fell, smoking and sparking in a heap of components.
David ducked another slash, and Femme Fatale flew into the villainess, unleashing a spin kick that he had seen destroy a cinderblock. Rangda avoided it by a narrow margin, leaning back at the waist. Its wind ruffled her hair.
He didn’t wait. Using the opportunity of Femme’s attack, David connected a vicious punch to Rangda’s midsection. She buckled, allowing one of his feet an easy connection with her face.
Spinning backward, she again lashed out with fiery claws. Her body struck the floor a few feet away, talons leaving long gouges in the travertine tiles.
As if one opponent were not enough, another emerged from the smoke and dust. The metallic lizard, Iguanus, rushed them from across the carnage. Tail curled and teeth bared, he ran with the uneven gait of a reptile, but a cold rage shown in his black eyes. He spun, sweeping his tail under David and Femme. Both tried to jump, but it connected with Femme’s feet, and she fell hard to the floor.
David remained upright, but his relief was temporary. Rangda’s claws came at him again.
He caught her by the wrists just before the daggers of her fingertips entered his flesh. His skin reddened as their burning heat hovered inches from his face. He glanced around, looking for aid, but Femme Fatale was occupied by the lizard-man. In this mêlée, David was alone.
Working each bicep, he forced his attacker slowly away. The woman’s talons withdrew from his face, but still she fought, pressing in upon him. He bent his knees and arched his spine, crouching and rolling backward with one swift motion.
With the movement, Rangda lost her balance, her body flipping over his. She landed hard behind him and again skidded across the cold floor. This time however, David didn’t hesitate. He unholstered his handgun, aimed, and released two, rapid shots into her skull. Blood and brain matter painted the spot where she had landed.
His first opponent down, he turned his firearm to Iguanus, but it was too late. A length of silvery tail struck him in the back of the head, and the gun skidded from his hand, coming to a rest beside the bleeding woman.
His body crumpled, and an unwelcome unconsciousness took him. Everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-four
Of the original combatants, only two remained standing: a man in a scorched business suit, and a very attractive woman in tight, black spandex. Nightgaunt watched them from his perch, feeling his nausea grow. The cool ease that the others showed in killing had not yet settled upon him. He was a nervous wreck, right down to the sweaty palms hindering his gecko-like abilities. He readjusted his hold, not wanting to fall into the lethal bedlam below.
Iguanus was eyeing his two opponents, and again spun his massive tail toward them. The impact could kill, snapping their necks before they even had an opportunity at evasion. It seemed they didn’t stand a chance.
The massive appendage was stopped however, losing its drive against the woman’s raised forearm. The creature’s flat, lizard head twisted to see the source of the interruption, and his anger blazed.
The woman dove to his right, grabbing and yanking the end of his tail. He had no time to resist against her incredible strength, and she used it to throw his body. Iguanus’ feet left the ground, and his immense weight flew across the room and impacted the far wall. He hit and slid down, landing on all fours. The creature shook it off, covering the distance between them in moments. He leaped at her with claws extended from his four, oversized feet.
Still standing, the woman did her best to defend herself, but the metallic talons dug into her tanned flesh. Streaks of blood opened from long rips across her midsection as she wrestled against him, her arms wrapping around the thick, plated neck. A closed fist repeatedly bashed his snout.
He twisted, raking his razor claws down her body and breaking free. The creature hopped away, but his tail curled, and he caught her hard in the back of the leg. She collapsed, and Iguanus closed in for the kill.
“Enough,” the Aegis shouted, standing in his path before more damage could be done. “We’re leaving now,” he said, expanding his shield across the room and forcing them back toward their exits.
The burning bloodlust had not left Iguanus’ eyes, but he accepted the command nonetheless. “Fine,” he replied. “But not without a souvenir.” He wrapped his tail around the woman and exited, dragging her body behind him.
Nightgaunt also crawled to his doorway, glad for the escape yet confused by its unexpectedness. He had assumed the battle would last until none of the others remained. That did not appear to be the plan however, and whatever the cause, he followed the order with enthusiasm.
The Aegis broadcast more commands over their communication network, instructing the two of them to reassemble at the warehouse. Billy rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to meet up with the others. At this point, even looking upon his colleagues troubled him. He started to respond over the radio, denying the Aegis’ command to reconvene, but thought better of it. He’d go back to the warehouse and do as he was told. He couldn’t risk their displeasure, especially after they had shown such capabilities of violence. With any luck, Malorius would make it quick, and this day could be over.
He looked forward to checking his bank account balance at the end of it.
__________
When Red awoke within the dust cloud, he knew that little time remained. As soon as his mind pieced together what had happened, he acted. The explosions rung in his ears, yet his powers worked well enough, and he used them.
The first two hostiles had been frightening. His mental scans had found nothing redeemable about either, visions of pain and gore greeting his mental inquiries. He had never encountered minds like those, and their great blackness remained in his memory.
Luckily, the third assailant, the apparent leader of the group, had held some compassion. Red worked hard in those last, critical minutes, his ability uncovering something akin to a memory, but unfamiliar to its owner. As he influenced the man, a scene replayed itself for them both. Red didn’t recognize it, but somehow knew that it was a snippet of events from long ago. It revealed the assailant in ways neither expected.
He watched as a young man sat in the back of an empty classroom, transcribing notes from his professor’s lecture. He appeared as if from a vintage photograph; heavy, horn-rimmed glasses overwhelmed his face, and a collared shirt and tie were neatly tucked within a striped sweater. The man wrote mathematical formulas with ease, and as Red inspected the page, he could see the name John Blackman inscribed at its top.
A door squeaked open as John wrote, causing him to look to its source. Another man stood in the entryway, dark suit setting him apart from the hallway beyond.
The suited man searched the room, located his target, and weaved his way around the black-countered islands of lab equipment. He found a stool and pulled it with a jarring screech to the table whe
re John sat, dropping his black hat between them with a slight puff. A white feather stood from its band.
“Can I help you, sir?” John asked, a little surprised tension in his voice.
“I hope so,” the man said, flashing an official-looking badge and holding its leather case open just long enough for John to get a good glimpse. “I’m Special Agent Timm with the Department of Defense.”
John laid the pencil down, forgetting the notes for a moment. He regarded the man with a critical eye, unsure what to think. He smiled, as if misunderstanding a joke. “Sir?”
The man did not reciprocate his grin. He remained stone-faced, scooting closer. “I’m here to make you an offer, John. What’s the topic of your thesis?”
The younger man’s throat dried, and his smile disappeared. So that was it. He was being recruited for his doctoral work. A trickle of sweat formed upon his forehead.
“I’m examining the effects of ionizing radiation on rare genetic alleles.”
“And you are assisting Dr. Steven Miller in his research?”
John hesitated for a moment, unsure how to answer. Dr. Miller had asked him to keep the tests secret. “No, sir,” he said at last. “I . . .”
The man cut him off. “It’s okay, John. We know you’ve been helping him, and frankly, we’re very impressed. Dr. Miller is a difficult man to please.”
John swallowed.
“The provost and I have been talking about you. He says that you are currently pursuing two doctorates, as well as a master’s degree in electrical engineering.”
“That’s right,” John nodded.
“He also says that you’re brilliant, and that you’ve been having some financial problems lately. Well, son. We’d like to help.”
John couldn’t believe his ears. He sat stunned, wanting to pinch himself.
Preternaturals: A Superhero Thriller Page 13
