“Deal,” she said.
They both laughed, but it drifted away rather quickly. He stared at her and she stared back, getting lost again among his piercing eyes. She didn't think about what happened next, her body just moved, magnetized to him. Her lips pressed into his. As the kissing became more passionate, her body filled with energy. She climbed onto him, pushing him back onto the bed. Between gasps of breath, she pulled her shirt up over her head, exposing her naked torso for the first time to anyone. His eyes fell upon her skin and instead of any feelings of awkwardness, her vulnerability felt safe. She fell against him, digging her fingers under his shirt and yanking it up over his head. He struggled to get his left arm out and they both laughed. When he was free, and their skin pressed against each other, the laughter ceased and became moans of pleasure. They tore more clothes from their bodies and soon she felt him press into her. At first, there was a sharp pain as he entered, but he was slow and gentle and she never felt as close to anyone as when he was inside of her, sliding in and out, pushing deeper than she thought possible. Her hands ran across his body, trying to touch every inch of his muscular frame as his breath swam across her neck. His dreadlocks fell across her face, and she hid behind them, letting them protect her from the outside world, just as they did for him. There, in her bed, it was just the two of them, with no Alliance and no empire and no SPMDs.
She tensed, wrapping her legs around his hips as he climaxed and fell on top of her, drained and exhausted. She ran her fingers lightly across his sweaty back, feeling the goosebumps lift from his skin. He pushed himself up and kissed her lips.
“I think I might be falling in love with you.”
She smiled back at him and said, “Don't worry, I'll be here to catch you.”
He laid back down on top of her and whispered, “My hero.”
39
WESLEY
The television screen sat behind a metal cage, hanging in the corner of the bus station. There was no sound and no closed captions, but it showed a video of soldier's loading Andre into the back of an armored military vehicle. It cut to a shot of Victor's body laying on the sidewalk in a pool of blood, and though it was blurred out, Wesley jumped up from the bench he was sitting on and rushed into the bathroom. He burst into one of the stalls and regurgitated his vending machine breakfast into the toilet. He heaved a few times until there was nothing left to release. He wiped his mouth with a few squares of toilet paper and flushed the toilet, closing the lid and sitting down to collect himself.
He wasn't sure if he should feel guilty for bailing on everyone, or if he should feel lucky for not being there when everything went down, or if he should feel guilty for feeling lucky. There was nothing he could have done to prevent what happened. His power wouldn't have been a match for someone like Stiletto or Replica or Behemoth. He could have ended up like Victor or Andre, dead or rotting away at the bottom of the Pit. His blood ran cold when he thought of either fate.
He moved to the sink and removed his glasses and to splash water on his face. None of the decisions he was making felt good. Nothing felt concrete or safe, but nothing ever did. Buildings fell on people regularly. Laser beams and freeze rays and fireballs were causes of death in Patriot City on a daily basis. He needed to try something different. He needed to see what he was capable of, beyond working a string of retail jobs that would barely pay for his rent. For him, part of becoming an adult was that first big step. He would roll the dice, take a risk, and see what he could accomplish.
His reflection in the mirror spoke to him as he said, “You can do this. You need to do this.”
He walked out of the bus station and into the Clarkville harbor on the east coast of Patriot City. The smell of the ocean mixed with the fish market that led all the way down to the line of ships docked along the coast. Fishmongers yelled out to him as he walked past, trying to draw attention to their catches of the day, but he ignored them and continued on his journey. The fishermen eyed him as he walked past, knowing he didn't belong among them, but he continued on toward the larger vessels without making eye contact.
When he reached the steamboats loading large boxes of cargo into their holds, he scanned the names painted on their sides, as well as the flags that flew from their masts. Most of them were flying the flag of the empire, with the rest flying flags from the other domains. Some flew the American Republic flag, with its blue background and single white star, but he continued past all of them, walking for three miles before he saw what he was looking for. Just as he read about online, there was a small cluster of ships with no flags flying. These were the ships willing to take any job, trading goods among any domains, despite whatever trade laws may be in place. They called themselves independent contractors. Others called them smugglers.
Wesley approached a large man standing on a small wooden box, barking orders at some younger men driving forklifts up and down a ramp connected to a large gray vessel named Freedom's Crest. He didn't notice Wesley, or didn't care, but when Wesley cleared his throat, the large man turned to look down at the noise.
“Sorry to bother you, sir,” he said, unfolding a piece of paper that he printed out from a website. “Are you the captain of this ship?”
“Aye,” he said, “now piss off before you get run over.”
A forklift whipped by Wesley, forcing him to step to the side.
“I'm actually wondering if you have room aboard your ship for a passenger. I can pay.”
“I ain't goin' to no vacation spots. Now get.”
He yelled out to another young man driving down the ramp too fast, telling him to slow down or he'd be working the messdeck for a week.
“Sorry, sir, I know you're busy, but I was under the impression you may be traveling to the Fatherlands?”
The captain turned around and leaned in close. Wesley could smell the liquor and chewing tobacco on his breath.
“Where'd you hear that, boy?” the captain asked in a quiet tone, glancing up and down the docks.
Wesley held up the piece of paper, showing a list of ships that were friendly to refugees. The captain snatched it out of his hand and scanned the information printed on it.
“Damn internet. Can't keep quiet about nothing.”
“So it's true? You're going there?”
“Now why would you wanna go to the Fatherlands? Most people are trying to get outta there.”
Wesley put on his most confident voice and said, “Let's say I keep my business to myself, and leave your business to you.”
The captain laughed and slapped his belly. “Now that's an answer I can get behind.”
“So you'll take me?”
The captain took off his wool hat and scratched his head. “I gotta pay the military and the Guardian of the South good money to look the other way when I come pulling into an imperial harbor. You know what that means?”
Wesley didn't reply, he just folded his arms and waited for the answer instead.
“Means I gotta charge extra to load goods, and I gotta charge extra to unload goods,” the captain said, returning his attention to the forklifts. “And I gotta charge extra to give up one of my beds to some kid.”
Wesley slung his backpack off his shoulder and unzipped it, revealing the contents of the bag. When he saw the inside was full of unopened, MajesTech mobile phones Wesley had stolen from the store he used to work at, the captain's eyes lit up.
“Welcome aboard, son,” the burly old man said as he grabbed the backpack and tossed it to one of his crew. “Next stop: The Fatherlands.”
40
CARMEN
Her pulse was pounding against the inside of her skull. Her brain felt like it was swelling with each pump of her heart. She didn't want to open her eyes. She couldn't face the reality of what happened. She didn't want to see the world she was waking up to. A world where one of her friends was dead, another was arrested, and she was most likely going to be thrown in jail alongside her mother for hiding her super power.
Nothin
g about it felt real. Did she really throw away everything in one night? Did she really give up her life for some dumb boy? That certainly didn't sound like her. She made responsible decisions. She may sneak out once in a while, but it was never to do anything too crazy. She had been only rebelling against a mother who was too overprotective. It was stupid kid stuff. She never faced any real consequences.
She rubbed her head again.
Maybe her mother wasn't protective enough. Maybe if she listened to more of her mother's prescription drug-fueled rants, she wouldn't have left the house. Maybe Andre wouldn't have tried to break into that vault. Maybe Victor would still be alive.
When she heard the screeching sound of metal against metal, she opened her eyes. She was in a jail cell, that was no surprise, but the room appeared different than those she saw on TV promoting the horrors of life in the Pit. There was a single bed attached to the wall, a small desk, and chair. The walls were bare, and a sheet of bulletproof glass separated the room, with her cell on one side, and a pair of folding chairs on the other. The screeching sound she heard was a door opening on the other side. A guard held it open as her mother walked in, holding a handful of tissues, her makeup running down in streaks from her eyes.
“Mom?” she said, running toward her and placing the palms of her hands against the wall of glass. “Mom. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”
Her mom sniffled. “Honey, no. It's okay. I'm the one that should be sorry. I should have told you about-”
“Are you in trouble now? Did they arrest you?”
She shook her head. “No. Not yet. I mean,” she looked away in shame, “they want to cut a deal.”
“A deal?” Carmen couldn't imagine anything getting her out of the situation. “What kind of deal?”
The door opened again, but this time Carmen backed away from the glass.
“Perhaps I would be more suited to answer your questions.”
When she saw Magda Zharkov walk through the door, she couldn't believe what she was seeing. She didn't think she was hallucinating or anything, but maybe her eyes were making a mistake. But then she remembered that earlier that day, she had punched the woman's son, Maksim the Warhammer, and realized that she really was talking to the wife of the imperator of the Zharkovian Empire. She nearly laughed at the absurdity that her life had become overnight.
“My name is Magda Zharkov. It's a pleasure to meet you.”
The woman's smile felt genuine, yet practiced, and Carmen wasn't sure how that was possible. Her robes looked like they were spun from some kind of alien material, flowing around her in a way that felt supernatural. Her entire aura created a sense of heavenly design, like she was above everyone else, regardless of her super power. It was then that Carmen realized she didn't know if she was supposed to bow. She figured things like that didn't matter when you were already arrested, so she remained standing.
“I've been speaking with your mother about your future,” Magda said, flashing a smile at Carmen's mom. “We spoke about a few different options as to where we can proceed from here. But these are ultimately your choices, Carmen. You must decide what direction your life will take from this moment forward.”
Carmen was still confused. She assumed she would be locked away for the rest of her life. Not only did she hide her super power, but she used it against one of the royal family. What was there to discuss?
“Now, I'd like to start with your SPMD.”
Carmen flashed a look to her mother, hoping for some kind of silent advice, or at least a look of strength, but her mother was staring at the floor as if she was afraid to look at her own daughter.
“Okay,” Carmen mumbled. “What do you want to know? I mean, I heat things up. That's it.”
Magda smiled like she felt sorry for Carmen. “Oh you sweet, sweet girl. You don't know how powerful you truly are, do you? Your mother tells me that you never met your father. You never saw him use his power.”
Carmen looked at her mother again, but her mother was wiping tears from her eyes. “I didn't even know my father had powers. He died in the Super Power War. He was on the east coast when Plasmax exploded, when-”
She stopped herself when she realized she was talking to the wife of the man who died when he killed Plasmax. These people always felt unreal, like characters from a story, yet here she was, face-to-face with one of them.
“Yes,” Magda said the word slowly, drawing it out. “I suppose that would be one way to say it. But the truth of the matter is your father was Plasmax.”
Carmen just stared at her, trying to comprehend each word individually. The sentence didn't make sense in her brain, as if the woman were speaking gibberish. But as the pieces started to fall into place, she stumbled backward, then regained her footing and asked, “Mom?” as if her mom's explanation could help her stand up straight.
Her mother whimpered, “It's true, honey. That's where all the money came from. He was good to us. He made sure you were taken care of.”
“Mom, what are you talking about? Plasmax? How could you... how did you...?”
“His name was Quentin. Quentin Kross. We met where I worked. It was a stupid little bar and he came in one night and I thought he was cute and we went out for breakfast the next day and-” Her mother started to cry again, but she forced the words out between sobs. “He was dangerous and exciting and that's the stupid stuff you fall for when you're young. But I didn't even know he was Plasmax until I got pregnant with you. He warned me. He warned me that you could get his powers. He gave me money and said he was going to turn his life around. He said he was going to do the right thing, join the war, fight for our country. He was going to be a hero. For you.”
This time she broke down into uncontrollable weeping. Magda looked over at her like she was a strange animal she had never seen before, but she kept the smile plastered on her face.
“What happened next was a tragedy,” Magda said. “For all of us. But from that darkness arose a new dawn, yes? We learned from our mistakes. Your father also thought all he could do was... how did you put it? 'Heat things up.' If we had studied his abilities properly, if we knew he had the power of a sun inside of him, we could have saved so many lives.”
Carmen wasn't listening to the woman. Her mind flooded with thoughts. Her mother's lies. Her father's death. Her place in the world shifting so dramatically. She glanced back down at the bed and wished she had never opened her eyes.
“What are you saying?” she asked. “Are you saying you want to study me? You want me to go to the academy or something?”
“Oh no, dear. Nothing like that. You're too old. Your power is too advanced for anything so trivial. I'm surprised you thought you could keep it a secret. But now that we know who you are, now that we know what you're capable of, we need to put your power to use. We need to find a place for you in the empire.”
Carmen glanced down at her own hands like they belonged to someone else. The power that she could wield felt more unnatural than ever before.
“You have options,” Magda said. “One of those options ends with you in the Pit. For the rest of your life. Never seeing the sky again. Never using your powers again. Locked up in a place full of criminals who have done much worse than you. And your mother, as well, would face jail time, albeit in a prison for the rest of the population.” Magda smiled larger. “Or you could accept my offer.”
Carmen folded her arms across her chest. “Yeah? And what's your offer? I mean, I'm no superhero. Trust me. The Alliance wouldn't want me.”
Magda chuckled. “I wouldn't let the Alliance anywhere near you, dear. No. You're meant for much, much more than that.”
Carmen was even more confused. What did this woman want her to do with her powers if she wasn't going to join the Alliance?
“Carmen, do you know anything about politics? Do you know what's happening with our empire?”
Carmen shrugged her shoulders. “Sure. I mean, it's all they're talking about. The old imperator died and your husband was crowne
d.”
“Yes. That's true. But it's more than that, unfortunately. You see, within our empire, my family is there to keep the peace. We are meant to unify the domains, to make sure something like your father's death never happens again.”
It still shook Carmen every time the woman said “your father.” It still felt like a possibility to her that this was all a mistake, that maybe they mixed her up with someone else, someone more important.
“Do you know how we have managed to do that for so many years? Do you know how we keep the peace between such drastically different cultures?”
Carmen considered the question carefully before saying, “You're stronger. The Zharkovs are stronger than anyone. No one could fight against you.”
Magda's smile became more subtle, as if her presentation was no longer needed. “Exactly. There is no need for war when everyone knows who the winner would be. And the way our family has remained stronger than anyone else is through a careful selection of spouses for our heirs.”
Carmen's mind wouldn't allow her to ponder what the woman was saying. The notion was preposterous.
“We have been waiting for someone like you to rise above the rest, Carmen. Someone who can offer our lineage an ability that none could surpass. Your power could give the next generation of Zharkovs a weapon so mighty, we could rule over this world for the rest of time. No one could ever threaten the peace and order that our family brings to this world.”
Carmen glanced at her mom again, but she was now covering her face.
“Are you seriously telling me that you want me to marry a Zharkov?”
Magda nodded her head. “Marry and provide me with offspring that will carry our empire into the future.”
Carmen actually laughed. Right there, into the face of Magda Zharkov. She couldn't help it. If she didn't laugh, she'd cry. Magda's smile fell from her face for a moment, but she forced the smile back across her lips and folded her arms into her robes.
The Super Power Saga (Book 1): Super Powers of Mass Destruction Page 32
