Preternaturals: A Superhero Thriller

by Allen Kensington

  “Stay away from me.”

  Jack didn’t heed the warning, taking a few more steps. “Give it up, Malorius. I know the truth.” He lunged at the old man, allowing feeble slashes to whistle through the air between them. “How did you do it?”

  Malorius tried one last attack. With all remaining strength, he thrust the knife into Jack’s belly. It went in about two centimeters, stopping as if against a brick wall. All color disappeared from the attacker’s face, his hand going limp.

  “You lied. You lied!” Malorius yelled. “The great Captain Valour couldn’t give up his powers after all.”

  Jack grabbed the man’s fist, twisting it until the knife fell. He wrapping his other hand around the man’s neck and lifted, slamming Malorius against the wall. Legs dangling, the old man’s coughs turned to strangled screams.

  Grabbing the knife, Jack ran the blade along his enemy’s arm. A line of crimson trailed its movement. Seeing the result, he dropped the knife, and threw Malorius onto a nearby pile of dirty clothes.

  “I should have known,” the former villain screamed. “You left me to rot in that prison, powerless, while you sat invulnerable in your ivory tower.” He held a dirty shirt to his wound. “You enjoyed watching me suffer, didn’t you? Laughing as my genius drained away in that infernal vat of yours. As if ruining me wasn’t enough!” He blubbered, hysterical, sucking snot back into his nose and rubbing his red eyes. “You’re here to claim your final victory.”

  “Shut up,” Jack commanded. He had stood stoic through the madman’s tantrum. “Where do you meet them? How do you issue your commands?”

  “I’m calling the police,” Malorius said, climbing the battered cabinets and reached for his phone.

  Jack didn’t stop him. “Go ahead, call them,” he said with a cold confidence. “I’m sure they would be interested to learn about your connections with the recent preternatural attacks.”

  Malorius froze, his hand outstretched. “I had nothing to do with those.”

  Jack loomed over him, shooting confident glares downward. “And they’re going to believe a derelict like you? You were sloppy this time, Malorius. I saw through it all.”

  The old man collapsed, sobbing. His exclamations of innocence devolved into incomprehensible blathering.

  Jack knew that he had his enemy. A very real part of him wanted to kill the man, to rid the world of his evil once and for all. If anyone deserved it, it was this fiend. Too many lives had been ruined by him, taken in their primes, lives like Sybil’s.

  The power of rage raced through him, and his old morals seemed to matter less and less. Jack picked up the old man again, limp against his might. The arm wound puckered and gushed, dropping neat circles of blood across the linoleum. He had never killed anyone in his life, not even someone like Malorius, but the cold fury was too much to bear. He grabbed the old man’s neck with a single hand and squeezed. The soft, frail tissue gave under his immense strength, until Malorius’ face turned a greenish purple and his eyes began to bulge. Jack felt the man’s pulse slow, then stop. With one last jerk of his hand, he heard vertebrae break from within the thin flesh.

  He dropped the corpse, looking upon his handiwork. This man had been Dr. Malorius; Jack recognized some of the villain in the old man’s features, but his death had been too easy. If he had been behind everything, Malorius would never have allowed himself to be taken without a fight. This man was nothing, an empty shell of his former nemesis.

  The true villain must lie elsewhere.

  But if not Malorius, then who? Who could have known about his team, and who could have organized the others against him? Jack thought for a moment, scanning his mind for some answer. They would have needed to be connected to the project, and well-informed on its progress. Not many had known the Hall’s location, and those that did had worked inside it for the duration. Everyone on the project’s roster had been present for the attack. Everyone except…

  Jack’s face went white, and he left without another thought. The car waited outside.

  “Did you find him?” Phillip asked as Jack opened the door.

  “Take me to the hospital, Phillip,” Jack muttered, getting inside and turning pale. He picked up a bottle and poured himself a fresh drink. The amber liquid sloshed in the glass as he brought it to his mouth. “I think I know who’s behind this.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  As was his habit, the Aegis arrived at the appointed time. The elevator doors swished open, and he entered the massive office, expecting to put an end to his current contract. Disappointed awaited him.

  Detch looked as he ever did, sitting behind the desk. He folded his fingers as the Aegis approached, leaning back in his chair and appraising the mercenary. Foregoing a greeting, he got right down to business.

  “I’m afraid your cure is not yet ready, my friend. There is more work to be done.” He smiled for a moment. “Not to worry. It will all be over very soon.”

  “I have waited the required time,” the Aegis responded. “This was the deadline upon which we agreed.” He did not enjoy working with those who broke their word, and while he understood that unforeseen difficulties occurred, he did not want to allow this weasel any more leeway than necessary.

  As expected, Detch was not pleased with the statements. “Have it your way,” he said, moving a hand over a free area of his desk and raising a screen from its depths. He applied a few key strokes, and a three-dimensional representation of one of Iguanus’ nanites appeared. “It’s quite difficult programming, actually. Kroncik’s software is intricate, but I have made much progress.”

  The view zoomed to magnify a portion of the microscopic robot’s structure. “I’ve been able to rewrite the DNA replication protocols. Combined with the liquid and the samples that you’ve given me, I am certain that I can remove your preternatural energies. I simply need more time.”

  “How much longer?”

  The delay itself mattered little to the Aegis. If Detch could cure his condition, a few days would make no difference. It was the logistical demands that annoyed him, not to mention his prolonged relationship with the devious invalid. After this contract ended, he planned to set himself up in another city, far from the machinations of Stephen Detch.

  “A week at most,” Detch replied. “I’ve rewritten most of the methods in his programming’s class structure, but there are a few that require more testing.” He scrolled through lines of code, pointing to the screen with a pen. “I’ve been working twenty-hour days to get this to you.”

  The Aegis nodded. “You have seventy-two hours. Do what is necessary.” Turning his back, he walked to the elevator. “I will return expecting a final result.”

  After this proclamation, the Aegis expected little reply. In his mind, the discussion was over. Halfway to the elevator however, he was stopped again by the man’s incessant conversation. “There is one other thing, actually,” Detch said, speaking up. “You see, I’ve been studying your shielding technology. Most impressive.”

  The Aegis began to turn as the voice neared, but before he had fully shifted his body, a hand came down upon his shoulder, somehow bypassing his force wall. Even with the insulating armor between them, it was the first physical contact that the Aegis could remember. It was unwelcome, unwarranted, and impossible. The hand dug in, and yanked him through the rest of the rotation.

  Detch stood before him, his chair abandoned and eyes glimmering. He seethed with pleasure as a skin of mercury enclosed him. Holding tight, silvery strands twisted across his body, changing his physical presence and filling his mouth with dagger-like teeth. The resulting bulk became less dinosaur-like than Iguanus had been, resembling more a mythological dragon. As the change ended, Rangda’s red nails extended from his fingertips.

  “I have their powers,” the Detch-creature boasted. “Now, I will have yours.” A metal talon lanced into the Aegis’ armor, melting a long gash through his shoulder plate and finding the flesh beneath.

  Stunned, he nonethel
ess reacted, twisting sharply out Detch’s reach. The move exposed his new wound, and brilliant green flesh shone from inside the armor’s cavity, shooting forth a blinding radiance.

  “You idiot,” he shouted, covering the opening. “The purpose of my armor isn’t to keep you out. It’s to keep me in.”

  Detch stumbled backward, surprised by the lethal power within the suit. Shielding his eyes, he again attacked. Claws pierced the invisible force wall, and more coppery plates were ripped from their homes. As cuts streaked across the suit’s chest, the front protective field fell. Detch rushed unhindered at his victim.

  It had been a long time since the Aegis had needed hand-to-hand combat skills, and he was surprised to find that he remembered the basics. He fought his attacker, but as the duel escalated, he realized that his proficiency would not be enough to slow the enemy for long. He moved with care, keeping the oncoming strikes at bay as best he could, and backing toward a large expanse of windows. Half of his armor had been torn away, and Detch seemed to grow stronger by the moment.

  The Aegis knew of one method to defeat his foe, and considered exposing the man to a full blast of his ambient energy. Before the idea gained any traction however, he reminded himself that it was no solution. That level of exposure would certainly kill his opponent, but with his shields compromised, it would also destroy a significant portion of the building in which they both stood, bringing the whole structure down around them. The option was a poor one, and he struggled to keep his radiation under control as the assault continued, looking for another way.

  More reddened talons lashed at him, and vainglorious words of victory trickled from Detch’s mouth as he grew closer. The Aegis could do nothing but retreat, taking more steps backward until he felt a glass barrier press against his remaining shield. With its strength waning, he shattered the near transparent wall, and leapt outward. Fifty stories below, the sidewalk waited to end his descent.

  Falling, he tucked and rolled, landing on his still-shielded portions and dredging a long groove in the pavement. The trench shallowed and disappeared as he regained his footing, dizzy from the impact. With one last look upward, he ducked between two buildings and ran.

  The thing that had been Stephen Detch grimaced after him.

  __________

  Jack’s route through the hospital was almost habitual. He’d come this way many times in the past weeks, the stairs and halls holding a sad familiarity. Unlike the previous trips however, he held no flowers or gifts. Nothing represented his well wishes. Instead, he carried only fears.

  He pushed his way through the ideas which stalked his waking mind, but it did little good. They would not leave him, not until he had seen her pale, sleeping figure for himself. Coming at last to her door, he wrapped his fingers around the lever, sucked in a breath, and twisted.

  His eyes closed. For so long, he had dreaded the idea of her remaining in the bed. Sybil had lain there so frail and weak that every day seemed her last, but as the door slid open, he found himself hoping she was there. Raising his lids again, the room’s contents were unveiled to him. The television hung on the wall, potted plants and flowers waited on the windowsill, and the foot of the bed came into view.

  It was empty. She was gone.

  The disappointment struck him, churning his stomach with a nauseating twist. He thought of those long hours spent at her bedside. Had she pretended it all? Had she lingered there laughing as he wept beside her?

  He did not want to believe that she was the mastermind behind this preternatural plot. She seemed too innocent, too willing to help, but he was certain her abilities had brought the group of criminals together, just as she had Jack’s own team. Sybil had directed them from her phony slumber, using her knowledge to foil him at every turn.

  Her plot seemed to unravel in his mind. He had delivered everything she needed: technology, information, and people. Each of his efforts seemed to play into her fiendish design, from the machine that magnified her abilities to the supposed accident that left her beyond suspicion. He remembered his visits to this room, the telephone calls and conversations that she must have overheard. None of them remained secret or safe. They had attacked him from the outside, and she had from within.

  Sybil, the woman whom he had raised from a girl, had betrayed him.

  He burst through the hospital doors and out into the parking area. The limousine waited, engine idling. Jack was in the backseat with a few more steps, collapsing and leaning his head against the window. He did not see any of the city’s buildings pass as the car accelerated down the avenue. His eyes were dull, glazed, and his concentrations drifted. Why did it have to be her?

  He uncorked a brandy, and swigged straight from the crystalline bottle, immune to the fire in his throat. Guilt and responsibility clawed within him, threatening to shred him from the inside. He took another unhealthy gulp. In the coming hours, he would feel nothing, and old memories would fade into an alcoholic fog.

  If all went well, he himself would fade with them.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Midday sunlight spilled across the campus green, a warm breeze rustling the budding trees. Billy sighed, putting an arm around Meredith as she cuddled against him. The two of them lay in a sea of swaying grass, staring up at the cloud-speckled sky. Happiness filled his mind, drug-like, and each of Meredith’s movements spread a warmth within him that he had little known. He caressed her glossy brown hair, and turned to kiss her forehead.

  “Run away with me,” he appealed.

  She studied him, forehead crinkled as she tried to determine whether he was joking. Unable to decide, she treated the request with a serious tone. “You know I can’t. Mom needs me.”

  Billy pointed his face toward hers. “I need you, too. I love you.”

  Meredith smiled in response, tenderness in her eyes. “I love you, too, but we have responsibilities here. We have school.”

  He didn’t care for any of that, not anymore. He turned to look at the far horizon, thinking of something else to say. “We don’t need school. I can take care of us. I’ve got some money saved.”

  Meredith giggled a little. “Where would we go?”

  “The Caribbean,” he said, staring at the sky again. “Or maybe the South Pacific.”

  “You’ve got that much, huh?”

  He turned to look at her, to see what those brown eyes would tell him. “I’ve got enough.”

  She smiled, but her face didn’t hold the promise for which he was looking. “I can’t leave my mother, Billy. Not after everything that has happened. Let’s finish school. Maybe in a couple of years.”

  Billy scowled, disappointed. “I can’t wait that long,” he said, more to himself than to her. Realizing his words, he tried to soften his tone. “Come with me. Your Mom is strong. She’ll be fine.”

  Meredith stared, turning stern. “Are you joking?”

  He heard hope in the question, even though none was there. “No, I’m not.” He smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. We can leave everything behind.”

  To his dismay, the conversation seemed to upset Meredith rather than relieve her. “I can’t.”

  “Sure you can. We can build a new life together.” His pleas grew in passion. “Let’s go. There’s no longer any reason to stay.”

  She turned away. “I can’t leave my family. Not now. Why would you ask me to?”

  He fished for a response, but none came. He couldn’t tell her the truth, not without implicating himself in her father’s death. For the longest time, he stared, both of them silent. An icy chill blew across him as the sun passed behind a cloud. He watched the horizon.

  He tried again, explaining his reasoning. “I’m tired of living here, of the work and the responsibility. I’m done with it.”

  “What about your degree?”

  Anger flashed in him. Why didn’t she understand? “I don’t care about that anymore.”

  Meredith’s tone became colder and more distant. “Running away isn
’t the answer.” She stood, breaking the intimacy between them. “We have lives here, Billy. We can’t just abandon them.”

  Billy looked away, holding his tongue. How could he tell her that none of it mattered anymore? She worried about silly things. Trivia. With the money he had, his old problems had disappeared.

  On the far side of the park, something caught his eye. A sinister glow broke from between a copse of trees, the gleam of reflective armor following it. Billy felt his flesh pimple as the mercenary neared.

  Without a word, he jumped up, yanking their blanket with him. He whipped away the shreds of clinging grass, grabbed Meredith, and began to run. His heart pounded, and only halfway to the car did he hear her continued questions. For a moment he stopped, looking into her eyes.

  “I need you to get to the car. Can you do that?” His hands clutched both of her shoulders to make the point. “Go to the car and wait.”

  The corners of her mouth began to pull downward, and tears gathered in pleading eyes. In those sacred pools, he saw the green light reflected, and pushed her onward. Her sweet lips parted, but nothing escaped.

  “Go. I’ll be there soon,” he yelled.

  And go she did, turning back for fleeting glances of him. As the figure took human form to his right, she disappeared in the left-most distance. Catching a last glimpse of her darting over the hill, Billy turned to face their pursuer, taking refuge in the nearby shadows. Their darkness helped him to become less substantial.

  He wasn’t certain why the Aegis had come. Whether it was to seek revenge for Iguanus’ death, or to start another mission, Billy had no interest in either. He searched for a means of escape.

  Trees stretched up around him, and he considered using his abilities to climb one. Their height would remove him from the Aegis’ reach, and he could then jump from branch to branch to get away. It was a noisy, and risky, way to go. Running across the park seemed better, but the direct sunlight would reveal him to the pursuing mercenary.