Israel, Manning and Greyfall had turned back around and looked to Elaine. She raised Daniel up to a sitting position and held his upper body in her arms, hugging him. Rocking back and forth for several moments, the other men didn’t think anything was happening. Eventually they noticed steam rising from the two bodies. No. Not steam. It was cold.
“Well… that’s interesting,” Manning spoke up.
Elaine’s skin was slowly turning blue. Daniel’s skin took several seconds to follow suit, but started turning blue as well. The brother and sister held each other in an icy embrace, both of their skin turning a sparkly iced blue. Daniel’s whimpering was slowly dying down.
“I’ll be damned,” said Ronan. “You forget to mention that in our little heart to heart earlier.”
Elaine ignored everything else going on around her and her brother. After several more moments Daniel was breathing easy, his eyes closed. Elaine gently let him relax back down onto the floor, still holding his blue hand. Manning took another step closer in to inspect both of them.
“Can you hear me?” he asked Elaine.
“Yes,” she answered him, opening her eyes.
“Will he be alright?”
“I don’t know. Get him to a bed,” she instructed. Israel and Greyfall stepped forward to pick up the half frozen Metalcore.
“Be careful with him,” Elaine told them as they carried him over to the last remaining free sofa.
“Looks like a war zone in here.” Manning sighed.
Elaine walked over to sit on the edge of the sofa beside her brother.“I can’t leave him.”
Manning nodded, understanding and sighed.
“So… ice?” He asked. Israel, Greyfall and Ronan all turned their attention to Elaine who nodded a defeated affirmation.
“Yeah. Ice.”
Manning mopped up the puddle in the middle of the hideout floor while Israel and Greyfall sat nearby in silence trying to take in the nights… what do you even call that? Events? Series of madness? Jessen was lying shivering on a sofa muttering small syllables which made no sense together.
“What the hell kind of night was that huh?” Manning asked them. Backwards and forwards at the same time? Fast and slow at the same time? Sounds like a bad acid trip in reverse…”
Chapter 13
In the morning Jessen woke, seemingly alone in the hideout. It was more quiet than he had yet known it to be. There was no machinery or technology making their buzzing and bleeping. No conversations, no TV and no elevator ding that before had seemed to sound every two minutes. No, he was alone. Wait, a blurry movement out of the corner of his eye. It was only now he realised his sight was not at one hundred percent. Jessen blinked and tried to refocus. After a moment he noticed it was Greyfall standing several meters away reading from a book at a counter. Jessen stirred on the sofa and Greyfall took notice of him, showing more emotion than he cared to show. Relieved, the time traveller walked over to Jessen and handed him a bottle of water, saying nothing. He thought it best to let Jessen come around slowly. Jessen managed a weak head shake and Greyfall put the water down.
“You are well my friend. Rest.”
“Hap… happened?” Jessen struggled to ask.
“Nagra burned you. A man named Marcus, The Sufferer, brought you here. Daniel had also been burned by Nagra flame and Elaine… well, Elaine froze him. It appears that she has an ability of her own that she intended on hiding from us. She also now knows of Ronan’s ability. It’s all out there now. No secrets.”
Jessen sighed.
“Ronan asked me to give you a message. Once everything had calmed down last night his phone rang. He didn’t tell us what it was, but it seemed important. He said you should make sure to watch NCW tonight,” Greyfall told him.
Jessen slept.
On the roof of the building Israel, Manning and Marcus sat looking out over New Belfast. A corner of the Skyborn building was visible far off in the distance through the jungle of sky scrapers.
“When did you discover your power?” Israel asked Marcus.
“I would hesitate to call it a power. I think of it more like a curse. I was twenty five. My dad had a heart attack out of the blue when I was in work one day. I rushed to the hospital where they had pretty much got him back down to normal when a second attack started to hit him right in front of me. I was holding his hand watching him have this attack and I thought to myself, prayed to anyone up there that if I could save him the pain… I would take it. I would take it and fall down and die if it spared him.”
The three men sat in silence.
“I brought it upon myself… somehow,” Marcus continued. “I hit the deck clutching my chest. All of a sudden I was experiencing a heart attack and my dad was relieved of the pain. But it only lasted a few moments. I freaked out and gave it back to him. The nurses were right there and they took care of him. He’s still with us today thankfully. So is the shame.”
“Nothing to be ashamed of Marcus,” Israel comforted him. “Just about everyone we know of with abilities freaked out the first time. Hell, look at what was supposed to happen to Jessen in another life.”
“Yeah. Anyway, been hanging around hospitals ever since. Just sitting there like a jackass in everyone else's pain.”
“You’re a hero Marcus,” Manning complimented. “I can’t imagine too many people with your… ability, would have the guts or the mental strength to do what you do every day.”
“It isn’t guts,” said Marcus defeatedly. “Could you honestly have what I have and do nothing? I can hardly go to bed at night without wondering what pain my neighbours might be in and if I can take it away. I go to the store and all I can sense is sickness. Can you imagine just walking past that and not doing a thing when you know you can? I can hardly go enjoy a baseball game or take a stroll anywhere without feeling everyones physical faults. I only hope to God that one of these days I find a pain that is so massive that it kills me.”
Manning and Israel didn’t know where to look.
“You can’t be serious, Marcus?” Manning asked softly.
“Completely. Pain or guilt. That’s my choice every single second of every single day. ‘The Sufferer!’ What kind of name is that? My successful super hero activity involves me having my ass handed to me every minute of the day.”
Manning glanced at Israel then back at Marcus.
“Marcus… you wouldn’t… tell me you wouldn’t ever…” Manning began.
“I won’t kill myself. Don’t worry,” Marcus interrupted, knowing full well where Manning was going with this.
“Good.” Manning was obviously relieved.
“My only hope is that someone kills me in the attack on the Skyborn,” Marcus continued.
“I’ll accidentally pop you in the back of the head,” Israel attempted a joke. Marcus smiled slightly.
“Thanks man. Even if you were serious, it wouldn’t sit well with me knowing how and when it was coming. That’s as good as suicide. No, my prayer every day is that someone out there legitimately takes me out. Only then will I be truly at peace.”
The three men silently and looked out over the city, taking in the sights and sounds. Marcus was happy to change the subject.
“So the big guy time traveled, has super strength and can shoot a dime from one hundred yards. Jessen can explode in a ball of fireworks. Daniel, uh, Metalcore flies, sings in a metal band and his face is melted off. Elaine freezes stuff. Ronan is tough and strong as all hell and you… sorry what was it you can do?”
“I don’t have abilities like the rest of you,” Israel answered.
“Israel is the best fighter we have,” Manning took over. “He is the best at hand to hand combat and with the wrist coils I made for him he can just about get anywhere he needs to and take down anything he wants to. He trumps everyone at hand to hand combat.”
Israel had nothing to add. It seemed like for as long as he could remember Manning and he had only a boyish immature relationship, constantly poking fun at
one another or trashing each other in front of any company they ever had which, before Jessen and Greyfall entered their lives, wasn’t much. This was different. Manning was actually talking Israel up like a son.
“You must all work as a team to get to Kennedy but if I was a gambling man, my bet is on Israel throwing the final punch,” Manning continued. Israel's heart warmed.
“About that,” Marcus interrupted. “The plan is to storm the Skyborn building, fight your way through who knows how many goons and puppets Kennedy has enlisted to protect him, ascend forty or fifty stories… all to punch him in the head?”
Manning didn’t answer him, but could tell were this was going.
“What I’m asking is…” Marcus tried to continue but Manning interrupted him.
“We expose Kennedy for who he really is. We force a confession. We upload all his secrets and his experiments online. We do whatever is needed to reveal his real self to the world. We free every person in that building being used as his lab rats. We destroy every computer, every hard drive, every chip, every USB drive, every router, every coffee machine and every pencil sharpener. We lay waste to anything that holds a current and anything used as a paper weight. None of his research, none of his disgusting experiments will survive. We erase it all completely. We bag and gag him and hand him to the police and yes… to answer the real question you want answered, if needs be… if no other option stands, if we cannot capture him, if it’s him or us, or him or them then reluctantly… yes. We kill him.”
They sat in silence as the city hummed before them. Eventually Manning spoke up.
“We’re meeting tomorrow.”
The crowd booed the NCW owner Sol as he made fun of their home town.
“I love everything about my company except for one thing, the fact that I have to come out here and look at your disgusting New Belfast faces and listen to your stupid chants every week. If I had it my way we’d be on the West Coast!” Sol yelled down the microphone as he stood in the middle of the ring. The boos grew louder.
“And as if coming out here every week to your ungrateful, whinny asses wasn’t bad enough, now I have the displeasure of informing you that over the weekend, while training at our excellent NCW facilities, Santos your champion… tore his ACL…”
The crowd was silenced.
“And as a result the NCW heavyweight championship belt… is forfeited.”
The crowd began to stir loudly again. Different pockets of fans throughout the arena were chanting the different names of their favourite wrestlers.
Following Ronan’s request, Jessen sat on the sofa at the hideout watching live. Greyfall, Israel and Manning sat with him, partly to keep him company and partly out of curiosity as to why Ronan had specifically instructed to watch this evening.
Jessen had barely said a word all day. He had taken a couple of sips of water and very little food. The other three felt it important just to leave him be and carry on as normal, not putting any pressure on Jessen. They knew he would come around in his own time.
Manning opened a beer.
“So there’s no champion. You think Ronan will get it?” he asked.
“Seems an unworthy way to crown a champion.” Greyfall protested. Greyfall's interest in NCW wrestling had grown over the last few weeks. He did not quite understand the storytelling aspect, but thoroughly enjoyed the physical side to it.
“Well who gets it? Wasn’t Ronan the last wrestler to have a pop at that Santos guy?” Manning asked.
“There’ll be a battle royal tonight. Ronan will win,” Jessen said his first monotone, quiet words in hours. The rest of the guys looked to him, grateful that he was speaking again.
“Battle royal?” Israel asked, humouring Jessen.
“Eight men. Get thrown over the top rope and you’re out. Last one standing in the ring wins. It’ll be Ronan,” Jessen continued.
“How do you know that?” Israel asked him.
“I know wrestling. Bet you twenty bucks.” Jessen said without taking his eyes of the TV.
“Alright,” Israel agreed. “Twenty bucks on Ronan becoming champion.”
“Nah it won’t be for the belt,” Jessen speculated.
“It won’t? Then what’s the point?”
“Sol will have his golden boy, his favourite heel, I’m guessing Mason Lane. The winner of the battle royal will become co-number one contender and face him.”
“Doesn’t seem fair,” Greyfall put in.
“It’s wrestling,” Jessen responded.
In the ring Sol was getting worked up.
“So ladies and gentlemen. Introducing one of two number one contenders for the NCW heavy weight championship…” Sol pointed to the top of the entrance ramp. “Mason Lane!”
The crowd booed heavily except for the few members of the audience that pretended to like the bad guys to look cool; they cheered. Mason Lane’s music hit as he came through the curtain with a smug look on his face and slowly walked down the ramp gesturing for everyone to keep quite. They didn’t. The boos only grew louder as he climbed into the ring and took the microphone.
“Now that you’ve got that out of your system… take a good long look at the future NCW champion.” Mason Lane held out his hands and closed his eyes as if to welcome worship but the crowd continued to boo.
“At our next pay per view, Uprising, you will all be witness to-“
Ronan’s music hit and blasted throughout the arena. A small cheer went up from the crowd as this was the lesser of two evils. Ronan and Elaine came walking down the ramp aggressively. Upon reaching the ring Elaine stayed at ground level while Ronan climbed into the ring confidently and stormed right up to Mason Lane. The two stared each other down for several moments while the crowd cheered them on to fight. After another several seconds Mason laughed confidently, dropped the microphone, turned and climbed out of the ring. On ground level he turned his back on the ring and began mocking the crowd unaware that Ronan had climbed through the ropes and onto the edge of the ring apron. After several seconds Mason turned around only to be met by Ronan flying through the air, colliding into him and driving both men through the commentators table in a mess. The crowd went nuts.
“Hmm. I like wrestling,” Manning decided.
Pretending to be slightly phased, Ronan gathered himself and climbed back into the ring. Sol watched on with a look of shock and horror on his face. Ronan grabbed the microphone Mason Lane had dropped, stood right up to Sol and got in his face. The crowd was slowly getting behind Ronan who was staring down Sol.
“Now…” Ronan began as Sol cowered before him. “What were you saying about my home town?”
The crowd erupted in cheers.
“Ha! Very good,” Manning was really beginning to enjoy this. “Ronan is normally a bad guy right?”
“Face turn,” Jessen answered. “He’s becoming a baby face.”
“You’re gonna need to explain that one a little further. Ronan sure as hell ain't got no baby face.”
“Good guy. Baby faces, or faces, are good guys and heels are bad guys.
In the ring Ronan towered over Sol while holding the microphone up to his mouth.
“I… I was…I don’t have to answer to you Ronan! You work for me dammit!” Sol yelled. “And you’ve just screwed yourself out of an easy number one contenders spot. I was about to announce that you would face Mason at Uprising, but now you’ve got to earn it!”
The crowd booed.
“Battle royal,” Jessen cooly commented as the watched.
“Tonight’s main event is gonna be you versus seven other guys in an eight man battle royal! Winner faces Mason Lane at Uprising for the NCW title. The crowd cheered as battle royals were rare.
“Son of a bitch, Jessen,” Israel exclaimed
“Yup,” Jessen answered.
The wrestling went to commercial. For the rest of the show the four men still sat on the sofas, anticipating the main event. By the time it rolled around Manning was drunk.
“I
love this wrussstlongzzzzzz….” Manning fell asleep.
Jessen called all of the spots of the match, almost perfectly predicting the order of eliminations which eventually led to Ronan standing alone in the middle of the ring with the crowd cheering.
“You certainly appear to know your wrestling. I’m sure it will prove useful in life,” Israel said sarcastically and handed Jessen twenty dollars from his pocket. He stood up and left the living area to go to the bathroom. Greyfall stared at Jessen. After several seconds Jessen broke the silence.
“Been texting Ronan all day. Knew what would happen.”
Greyfall smirked and looked back to the TV. Ronan’s music had abruptly been cut off and the lights in the arena changed to a dim red. The entrance ramp was covered in a low hanging smoke as a man in black, Nightfall, slowly walked his way down to the ring. Ronan could only stare at Nightfall who eventually made it to the ring. Elaine ran to the opposite end of the ring to sit with the commentators, obviously afraid. Nightfall and Ronan had barely ever been in the ring at the same time as each other. Their characters had never had any form of rivalry or interconnecting story lines. Slowly Nightfall lifted his hand and pointed at Ronan, his eery, chilling music still playing.
On the sofas in the hideout Jessen and Greyfall flinched as if the inside of their brains had been flicked. Manning woke up and sat upright.
“Huh?” Was all he could say.
In the ring Ronan flinched and looked down at the ground. Trying not to show any intimidation he looked back up at Nightfall who was just standing there pointing at him. Eventually his hand came down as he turned and walked back up the ramp. Ronan and Elaine, as if possessed, followed him as the broadcast went off the air.
Israel came back out from the bathroom, obviously concerned.
“Guys I’m going out.”
Israel stood on the ledge of the building, twenty stories up. New Belfast never slept. The traffic still hummed below him even at this late hour.
‘Too long cooped up in that hideout,’ he thought to himself. Ever since Jessen and Greyfall came barging into their lives, Manning and Israel had left the neighbourhood that little bit less protected.
The Hade War Page 12
